generosity gave to her parents and her cousins, out of his share of the prize, an ample sufficiency for their maintenance. In short, they now were all free, happy, and contented. Ricardo became famous not only through all Sicily, but in Italy and other countries, under the name of the Generous Lover; and his memory long survived in the numerous offspring of Leonisa, who was a shining example of beauty united with modesty and discretion. LAST DAYS OF CHARLES THE SECOND. THE following account of the last moments of this profligate King, whom modern writers have been pleased to call "the Merry Monarch," is taken from the private Diary of Evelyn, who was an eye witness of the abominable scenes he so graphically describes. "Feb. 4. 1685.-I went to London, hearing his Majesty had been the Monday before surprised in his bed-chamber with an apoplectic fit, so that if, by God's providence, Dr. King (that most excellent chirugeon as well as physician) had not been accidentally present, to let him blood, his Majesty had certainly died that moment, which might have been of direful consequence, there being nobody else present with the King save this Doctor and one more, as I am assured. This rescued his Majesty for the instant; but it was only a short reprieve. He still complained, and was relapsing, often fainting, with sometimes epileptic symptoms, till Wednesday, for which he was cupped, let blood in both jugulars, had both vomit and purges, which so relieved him, that on Thursday hopes of recovery were signified in the Gazette; but that day, about noon, the physicians thought him feverish. This they seemed glad of, as being more easily allayed and methodically dealt with than his former fits; so as they prescribed the famous Jesuit's powder; but it made him worse: and some very able doctors who were present did not think it a fever, but the effect of his frequent bleeding and other sharp operations used by them about his head; so that probably the powder might stop the circulation and renew his former fits, which now made him very weak. Thus he passed Thursday night with great difficulty; when complaining of a pain in his side, they drew twelve ounces more of blood from him: this was by six in the morning of Friday, and it gave him relief; but it did not continue; for being now in much pain, and struggling for breath, he lay dying; and after some conflicts, the physicians despairing of him, he gave up the ghost at half an hour after eleven in the morning, being the 6th of February, 1685, in the 36th year of his reign, and 54th of his age. It is said, they exceedingly urged the receiving the Holy Sacrament, but his Majesty told them he would consider it; which he did so long till it was too late. He gave his breeches and keys to the Duke of York, who was almost continually kneeling by the bedside and in tears. He also recommended to him the care of his natural children, all except the Duke of Monmouth. He intreated the queen to pardon him (not without cause!) he spoke to the duke to be kind to the Duchess of Cleaveland, and especially Portsmouth, and that Nelly might not starve. Thus died King Charles II., of a robust constitution, and in all appearance promising a long life! I never can forget the inexpressible luxury and profaneness, gaming and all dissoluteness, and as it were total forgetfulness of God (it being Sunday evening), which this day sen'night I was witness of, the king sitting toying with his concubines, Portsmouth, Cleaveland, and Mazarine, &c. A French boy singing love songs, in that glorious gallery; whilst about twenty of the great courtiers, and other dissolute persons, were at basset round a large table, a bank of at least 20007. in gold before them; upon which two gentlemen, who were with me, made reflections with astonishment. Six days after, all was in the dust !" chains, SKETCH. (For the Parterre). 'Twas in her favourite bow'r, my ravished eye In silken bond of sweet communion joined; JULIAN ORIGINAL LETTER OF GARRICK. OUR correspondent, Mr. Orme, has sent us the following letter from Garrick, to the Secretary of the Customs, which does not appear to have been before printed entire. We do not find it in the two quarto volumes of his correspondence. "Dear sir,-Not Rachel weeping for her children could shew more sorrow than Mrs. Garrick :-not weeping for her children, she has none; nor indeed for her husband; thanks to the humour of the times, she can be as philosophical upon that subject as her betters. What does she weep for then? Shall I dare tell you? It is it is for the loss of a chintz bed and curtains. The tale is short, and is as follows:-I have taken some pains to oblige the gentlemen of Calcutta, by sending them plays, scenes, and rendering them other services in my way; in return, they have sent me Madeira, and poor Rachel the unfortunate chintz. She has had it four years; and upon making some alterations in our little place at Hampton, she intended to show away with her prohibited present. She had prepared paper, chairs, &c. for this favourite token of Indian gratitude. But, alas! all human felicity is frail; no care having been taken on my wife's part, and some treachery having been exerted against her, it was seized, the very bed, by the coarse hands of filthy dungeon villains,' and then thrown among the common lumber. "If you have the least pity for a distressed female, any regard for her husband (for he has had a sad time of it), or any wishes that the environs of Bushy Park be made tolerably neat and clean, you may put your finger and thumb to the business, and take a thorn out of Rachel's side. "I am, dear sir, &c. &c. [We take the following anecdotes from Dunlap's forthcoming History of American Arts and Artists."] A SECRET WELL KEPT, OR THE AGREEABLE SURPRISE. "Monsieur Brugere, a French gentleman, who had lived in double blessedness, until his consort and himself were of a certain age, or a little beyond, called on the painter, and engaged his portrait. The transaction, by agreement, was to be a profound secret, as he meant to surprise Madame Brugere, by presenting her with a duplicate of his beloved visage, as a new-year's gift. While this affair was going on, the painter received a visit from Madame Brugere. Sully, on seeing her enter, thought the secret had fared the fate of most secrets, and was preparing to bring Monsieur's physiognomy from its hiding-place; but the lady did not give him time to be a Marplot. Mr. Sully,' said she, 'you must paint my picture very quick; for I am determined to surprise Mr. Brugere very much by presenting to him my likeness on new-year's day, the first thing he shall see. Monsieur Brugere has long desired to possess my portrait-I have hitherto refused-but now I would sur prise him, when he shall find it hung up before his face on new-year's morning. So you will paint my portrait, and we shall keep it very, very secret, from Monsieur Brugere and all the world.' Thus this happy couple had hit on the same plan to increase each other's pleasure at the comencement of the year. Accordingly, both portraits were painted, and both secrets remained inviolate and unsuspected. The painter contrived that the pictures should be carried to the house and placed in the parlour on new-year's eve, after the family had retired to rest-the same pretence for the secresy of the proceeding, and the lateness of the hour, answering for each, and each plotting with the painter to deceive and surprise the other. A visit was soon received from the husband. Aha! Monsieur Sully! Mon Dieu! how we have all played trick! I trick my wife-my wife trick meyou trick both. Very early on newyear morning, Madam Brugere get up and go into the parlour. I listen, and I hear her exclaim very loud, and laugh immoderately. So I go to her to enjoy the joke. Aha! my dear!' I say, 'is it like?' You shall look if it is like :' and there I found her picture by the side of mine. Aha!' said I, Sully has told you my plot, and you counter-plot me!' but I found it was the same thought in two heads.' And the mutual desire to produce an agreeable surprise,' said the painter." THE PICTURE OF THE WEST FAMILY. "Raphael West was born in the year 1769, the oldest son of the great historical painter. His portrait as a boy is introduced by his father in the beautiful small picture of the family, leaning on the arm of his mother's chair, who is looking at the second son, Benjamin, an infant on her lap. His school education was entrusted to one of the numerous academies that surround London, and it seems to have been a favourite with the Americans of that day, as Mather Brown, John Singleton Copley, (the son of the painter, and now Lord Lyndhurst), and Raphael West were shoolmates and playmates, when, as Mather Brown told Leslie, he and Raefe had often, while bathing, given the chancellor in embryo, a ducking in the Serpentine river. "Having mentioned the West family picture, I will repeat what Mr. Charles R. Leslie has said respecting it, as connected with my friend Raphael. Of all Mr. West's pictures, great or small, I prefer (perhaps you will laugh at me) the little one representing his own family. Sir Joshua Reynolds used to say, no man ever painted more than half-adozen perfectly original pictures in his life.' Certainly this one stands pre-eminent among Mr. West's half-dozen. It is well known by an indifferent engraving, as large, I believe, as the picture, and represents a young mother (Mrs. West) soon after the birth of her second child. I know of nothing in the art more lovely than the mother and the sleeping babe. Near her stands, half reclining, a boy of nine or ten years of age (your old friend Raphael West) and on the other side sit two quakers with. their hats on, the father and brother of the artist, who leans on the back of one of their chairs.' Does he not lean on his wife's chair? By the by, had Allan Cunningham ever seen this picture or even seen Mr. West, he could not, one would suppose, constantly speak of him as a quaker. To return to Leslie. 'I believe the picture represents the first visit paid by the father and brother-inlaw to the lady, after the birth of the second son, and the silence which reigns over the whole is that of religious meditation. When Mr. West's pictures were sold, Mr. Newton and I agreed, if it should come at all within our means, to buy this one between us. But Raphael West, to whom it belongs, would not part with it. It was, therefore, not included in the sale. I did not know the reason at the time, but Raphael since told me, and added, with a feeling which does him honour, that as long as he could keep any thing, he would not part with that picture. It is well known that when Benjamin West, a young man, left home for Italy, he had formed an attachment to a young lady of Philadelphia, of the name of Shewell. On his arrival in England from Italy, his prospects as an artist soon assumed so promising an aspect, that he determined to remain there, and wrote to his affianced bride, asking her to undertake the voyage to England, under the care of his venerable father. The lady and her intended father-in-law complied with the request, and in London, for the first time, the old gentleman met his eldest son, who was a watchmaker, settled in Reading, and at that time forty years of age. This son was born after old Mr. West went to America, and the mother dying, the child was retained by her relatives. West married and remained in America until he came to bring a bride to his son Benjamin, one of the many children given him by his American wife." A FOREST ON FIRE. AUDUBON, the American naturalist, gives the following vivid description of a fire in the woods, as related to him by a wood-cutter-one of the sufferers by the event. It is full of appalling interest, and strongly reminds us of the monsoons on the sandy plains of Africa. "About twenty-five years ago, the larch or hackmitack trees were nearly all killed by insects. This took place in what hereabouts is called the black soft growth' land; that is, the spruce, pine, and all other firs. The destruction of the trees was effected by the insects cutting the leaves, and you must know that, although other trees are not killed by the loss of their leaves, the evergreens always are. Some few years after this destruction of the larch, the same insects attacked the spruces, pines, and other firs, in such a manner, that before half a dozen years were over, they began to fall, and, tumbling in all directions, they covered the whole country with matted masses. You may suppose that, when partially dried or seasoned, they would prove capital fuel, as well as supplies for the devouring flames which, accidentally, or perhaps by intention, afterwards raged over the country, and continued burning at intervals for years, in many places stopping all communica tion by the roads; the resinous nature of the firs being of course best fitted to ensure and keep up the burning of the deep beds of dry leaves of the other trees. By to catch and saddle the two best horses. "We heard blasts from the horns of our neighbours, as we proceeded, and knew that they were in the same predicament. Intent on striving to the utmost to preserve our lives, thought "I dare say that what I have told of a large lake, some miles off, which you brings sad recollections to the minds might possibly check the flames; and, of my wife and eldest daughter, who, urging my wife to whip up her horse, we with myself, had to fly from our home set off at full speed, making the best way at the time of the great fires. I felt so we could over the fallen trees and the interested in his relation of the causes of brush heaps, which lay like so many the burnings, that I asked him to de- articles placed on purpose to keep up scribe to me the particulars of his mis- the terrific fires, which advanced with a fortunes at the time. broad front upon us. "It is a difficult thing, Sir, to describe, but I will do my best to make your time pass pleasantly. We were sound asleep one night in a cabin about a hundred miles from this, when about two hours before day, the snorting of the horses and lowing of the cattle which I had ranging in the woods suddenly awakened us. I took yon rifle, and went to the door to see what beast had caused the hubbub, when I was struck by the glare of light reflected on all the trees before me, as far as I could see through the woods. My horses were leaping about, snorting loudly, and the cattle ran among them with their tails raised straight over their backs. On going to the back of the house, I plainly heard the crackling made by the burning brushwood, and saw the flames coming towards us in a far extended line. I ran to the house, told my wife to dress herself and the child as quickly as possible, and take the little money we had, while I managed "By this time we could feel the heat : and we were afraid that our horses would drop every instant. A singular kind of breeze was passing over our heads, and the glare of the atmosphere shone over the day light. I was sensible of a slight faintness, and my wife looked pale. The heat had produced such a flush in the child's face, that when she turned towards either of us, our grief and perplexity were greatly increased. Ten miles, you know, are soon gone over, on swift horses; but, notwithstanding this, when we reached the borders of the lake, covered with sweat and quite exhausted, our hearts failed us. The heat of the smoke was quite insufferable, and sheets of blazing fire flew over us in a manner beyond belief. We reached the shores, however, coasted the lake for a while, and got round to the lee side. There we gave up our horses, which we never saw again. Down among the rushes we plunged by the edge of the water, and laid ourselves flat, to wait the chance of escaping from being burnt or devoured. The water refreshed us, and we enjoyed the coolness. "On went the fire, rushing and crashing through the woods. Such a sight may we never see! The heavens themselves, I thought, were frightened, for all above us was a red glare, mixed with clouds of smoke, rolling and sweeping away. Our bodies were cool enough, but our heads were scorching, and the child, who now seemed to understand the matter, cried so as nearly to break our hearts. "The day passed on, and we became hungry. Many wild beasts came plunging into the water beside us, and others swam across to our side and stood still. Although faint and weary, I managed to shoot a porcupine, and we all tasted its flesh. The night passed I cannot tell you how. Smouldering fires covered the ground, and the trees stood like pil lars of fire, or fell across each other. The stifling and sickening smoke still rushed over us, and the burnt cinders and ashes fell thick about us. How we got through that night I really cannot tell, for about some of it I remember nothing. "Towards morning, although the heat did not abate, the smoke became less, and blasts of fresh air sometimes made their way to us. When morning came, all was calm, but a dismal smoke still filled the air, and the smell seemed worse than ever. We were now cooled enough, and shivered as if in an ague fit; so we removed from the water, and went up to a burning log, where we warmed ourselves. What was to become of us I did not know. My wife hugged the child to her breast, and wept bitterly; but God had preserved us through the worst of the danger, and the flames had gone past, so I thought it would have been both ungrateful to Him, and unmanly to despair now. Hunger once more pressed upon us, but this was easily remedied. Several deer were still standing in the water, up to the head, and I shot one of them. Some of its flesh was soon roasted, and, after eating it, we felt wonderfully strengthened. "By this time the blaze of the fire was beyond our sight, although the ground was still burning in many places, and it was dangerous to go among the burnt trees. After resting awhile, and trimming ourselves, we prepared to commence our march. Taking up the child, I led the way over the hot ground and rocks; and, after two weary days and nights, during which we shifted in the best manner we could, we at last reached the hard woods,' which had been free of the fire. Soon after we came to a house, where we were kindly treated for a while. Since then, Sir, I have worked hard and constantly as a lumberer; but, thanks be to God, here we are safe, sound, and happy." ADVENTURE IN THE ANDES. By the Author of " A Tale of Tucuman.” (For the Parterre). [Concluded from page 40.] WITH two companions I lurked about, and within an hour after his marriage, ere he had greeted his bride on her return from the cathedral church, with whose pompous ceremonies he had dreamed to make her his own--within one hour he was seized, and I bore him away to the woods. I slew him not-he lives stillbut I was revenged. This comely bride might but weep over the wreck I caused to be made. He endures a living death, and she curses the hour in which she burst the ties that bound Pincheira to humanity. I fled from the spot. I crossed the snowy ridge, and I sought the tribe of my mother. They looked on me and said, "Why comes the white man amongst us?" My heart was turned to bitterness. The white man had cast me out, and the red man said that I was not of his blood. I cursed the hour when I was born, the father who had begotten me, and the mother who had given birth to me. I was an alien upon the face of the earth, and none loved me. I aroused me from my despair, and I resolved that those who loved me not should fear me. I met with some deserters, and I enlisted them in my service, in the name of the king of Spain, in whose service my father had procured me a commission, while I was yet a boy. I was captured: I was shot for a robber. You saved my life. Since then I have at times defeated the troops of Chile; at times I have fled before them'; and since I last returned from Chile, I have recruited a larger number of men than before; many also of the Indians, who have quarrelled with their Caciques, have joined me, and I am about to go on an incursion into Chile, pursuing a war of extermination." "This is horrible!" exclaimed Don Juan. Why should you pursue such a war?" "I have been driven on to it. I shall |