tles-putting themselves into the body of an army-banishing or imprisoning all such as oppose their practices and then petitioning the king for a public exercise of their religion. The twenty-third of October, anno. 1641, was the day designed for the seizing of the city and castle of Dublin, and many places of great importance in the kingdom. But failing in the main design, which had been discovered the night before by one O'Canelle, they break out into open arms, dealing no better with the protestants there, than the covenanters had done with the royal party in Scotland. Of this rebellion (for it must be called a rebellion in the Irish, though not in the Scots) the king gives present notice to his houses of parliament, requiring their counsel and assistance for the extinguishing of that flame before it had wasted and consumed that kingdome. But neither the necessity of the protestants there, nor the king's importunity here, could perswade them to levy one man towards the suppression of those rebels, till the king had disclaimed the power of pressing soldiers, in an act of parliament, and thereby, laid himself open to such acts of violence as were then hammering against him; which, having done, they put an army of Scots (their most assured friends) into the northern parts of Ireland, delivering into their hands the strong town and port of Carickfergus, one of the chief keys of that kingdome, and afterwards sent a small body of English to preserve the south, which English forces having done notable service there against the rebels, were kept so short both in respect of pay and other necessaries by the houses of parliament (who had made use of the money raised for the relief of Ireland to maintain a war against their king), that they were forced to come to a cessation, and cheerfully returned home again to assist the king in that just war which he had undertaken for his own defence; the ground and occasion of which war we are next to shew. At such time as he was in Scotland and expostulated with some of the chiefs among them, touching their coming into England in an hostile manner, he found that some, who were now leading men in the houses of parliament had invited them to it. And having furnished himself with some proofs for it, he commanded his attorney general to impeach some of them of high treason, that is to say, lord Kimbolton, a member of the house of peers, Mr. Hollis, sir Arthur Haslerig, Mr. Hambden, Mr. Pym, and Mr. Strode, of the house of commons. But sending his serjeant at arms to arrest their persons, there came a countermand from the house of commons, by which the serjeant was deterred from doing his office, and the members had the opportunity of putting themselves into the sanctuary of the city. next day, being the 4th of January, his majesty being no otherwise attended than with his ordinary guard, went to the house of commons to demand the five members of that house, that he might proceed against them in a way of justice; but his intention was discovered, and the birds flown before his coming. The The gentry of Yorkshire who had petitioned the king to secure that magazine, became hereby more firmly united to him. The like had been done also by the yeomanry, and those of the inferior sort, if his proceedings had not been undermined by the committee of four gentlemen, all members of the house, and all of them natives of that country, sent thither purposely (in a new and unprecedented way) to lie as spies upon his counsels, and as controllers to his actions. Some messages there were betwixt him and the houses of parliament, concerning the atoning of these differences, while he was at York. But the nineteen propositions sent thither to him did declare sufficiently that there was no peace to be expected on his part, unless he had made himself a cypher, a thing of no signification in the arithmetic of This was voted by the commons such an inexpiable breach of privilege, that neither the king's qualifying of that action, nor his desisting from the prosecution of that impeachment, nor any thing that he could either say or do, would give satisfaction. Nothing would satisfy their jealousies and secure their fears, but the putting of the tower of London into their hands, together with the command of the royal navy, as, also, all the forts, castles, and trainbands of the kingdome, all comprehended under the name of the militia; which if his majesty would fling after all the rest, they would continue his most loyal subjects. On this the king demurs awhile, but having shipped the queen for Holland, and got the prince into his own power, he becomes more resolute, and stoutly holds on the denial. Finding the members too state. strong for him, and London, by reason of the continual tumults, to be a dangerous neighbour to him, he withdraws to York, that being in a place of safety, he might the better find a way to compose those differences which now began to embroil the kingdome. At Hull he had a magazine of arms and ammunition provided for the late intended war against the Scots, and laid up there when the occasion of that war was taken away. Of this town he intended to possess himself, and to make use of his own arms and ammunition for his preservation; but, coming before the gates of the town, he was denied entrance by sir John Hotham, who by the appointment of the house of commons had took charge of that place. And now the war begins to open. The parliament had their guards already, and the affront which Hotham had put upon his majesty at Hull, prompted the gentlemen of Yorkshire to tender themselves for a guard to his person. This was presently voted by both houses to be a levying of war against the parliament, for whose defence, not only the train-bands of London must be in readiness, and the good people of the country required to put themselves into a posture of arms-regiments of horse and foot are listed, a general appointed-great sums of money raised, and all this under pretence of taking the king out of the hands of his evil counsellors. The noise of these preparations hastens the king from York to Nottingham, where he sets up his standard, inviting all his good subjects to repair unto him, for defence of their king, the laws and religion of their country. He increased his forces as he marched, which could not come unto the reputation of an army, till he came into Shropshire, where great bodies of the loyal and stout-hearted Wesh resorted to him. Strengthened with these, and furnished sufficiently with field pieces, arms, and ammunition, which the queen had sent to him out of Holland, he resolves upon his march towards London; but on Sunday, the twenty-third of October, was encountered in the way, at a place called Edge-hill, by the parliament forces. The fight was terrible for the time, no fewer than five thousand men slain upon the place the prologue to a greater slaughter, if the dark night had not put an end unto that dispute. Each part pretended to the victory, but it went clearly on the king's side, who, though he lost his general, yet he kept the field, and possessed himself of the dead bodies; and not so only, but he made his way open unto London, and in his way forced Banbury castle, in the very sight as it were of the earl of Essex, who, with his flying army, made all the haste he could towards the city (that he might be there before the king) to secure the parliament. More certain signs there could not be of an absolute victory. (To be continued.) A LUMINOUS INSECT IN SURINAM, WHICH SHINES LIKE BURNING COALS. Besides the insects which shine in the night, such as the glowworm, &c. there is one found in Surinam, which deserves to be known on account of its singularity. According to the description which Mad. Merian gives of it, this animal, in its creeping state, seems to have a form approaching that of our small grasshopper, but is much larger; like them, it has a long probosis, by which it sucks the juice from the flowers of the pomegranite, and this probosis remains with it all its life. After having quitted one skin, it changes its form, and appears under that of a large green fly, like our cicada. Its flight is then very rapid, and the noise it makes with its wings is like the sound of a cymbal. Although, according to the ordinary course of nature, an insect, after having acquired wings, undergoes no further change, yet this one, by the concurring testimony of the Indians, which Mad. Merian says she had in part verified by her own experience, undergoes still a last transformation, which renders it luminous, and which then procures it the name of the lantern fly. (Fulgora Laternaria Lin.) In this last transformation, besides other inconsiderable changes which happen to its body and wings, there issues, from the forepart of its head, a very long transparent bladder, coloured with reddish and greenish streaks, and which diffuses a light sufficient to enable a person to read pretty small print. This animal, by the description she gives of it, is then about four inches long, and the bladder occupies about a fourth of its whole length. Before Mad. Merian was acquainted with the luminous quality of this insect, the Indians brought her many of them, which she shut up in a large box. Being alarmed one night with a singular noise, which she heard in the house, she got up, lighted a candle, and went to see what it was. The noise came from the box; she opened it, and immediately there issued a flame, which increased her emotion, and made her throw down the box, whence there was now dispersed a new beam of light, as each animal got out of it. We may believe her fear did not long continue, but soon gave place to admiration, and she immediately set herself to regain animals so extraordinary, which had taken advantage of the fear they had occasioned to make their escape. ing echoes, mentioned in your last Gleaner. Vide, p. 348. 349. R. August 19th. I shall not treat, (as you have not) on the causes, nature, and uses to which echoes might be applied, with other curious phenomena, as it would, to many of your readers, be abstruse and uninteresting; but merely notice some of the more remarkable and well authenticated echoes, not noticed in your last :-at Rosneath, near Glasgow, in Scotland, there is an echo which repeats a tune, played with a trumpet, three times completely and distinctly. Authors mention a tower at Cyzicus, where the echo repeated seven times. There is an echo at Brussels that answers fifteen times. A certain popular work mentions a fine echo in a church in Sussex*, which, in the night time, will repeat the following twenty-one syllables : : "Os homini sublime dedit, eœlumque tueri jussit, et erector" It is remarkable, that there are certain letters, which no echo will return, particularly an S.Lord Bacon, on the celebrated echo formed by the walls of a ruined church, at Pont Charenton, near Paris, mentions the superstition of an old Parisian; "for (says the Parisian) if you call satan, the echo will not only deliver back the name, but will say va-t'n, which signifies avoid," which the Parisian took to be the * Dr. Harris, (if I am not mistaken) in his Technical Dictionary, assures us the echo is from the north side of Stepney church, in the county of Sussex: but, in what part of the county the parish of Stepney is situated, I am not acquainted. work of good spirits.-Ency. party and faction. Or if the good Lond. Mr. Editor, By introducing the vowel E, you wil have the following lines. Vide, Brighton Gleaner, No. VIII. page 303. Persevere ye perfect men, LABOUR, HEALTH, AND CONTENT MENT. Health is the blessing which every one wishes to enjoy ; but the multitude are so unreasonable, as to desire to purchase it at a cheaper rate than it is to be obtained. The continuance of it is only to be secured by exercise or labour. But the misfortune is, that the poor are too apt to overlook their own enjoyments, and to view with envy the ease and affluence of their superiors, not considering that the usual attendants upon great fortunes are anxiety and disease. If it be true, that those persons are the happiest, who have the fewest wants, the rich man is more the object of compassion than envy. However moderate his inclinations may be, the custom of the world lays him under the necessity of living up to his fortune. He must be surrounded by an useless train of servants; his appetite must be palled with plenty, and his peace invaded by crowds. He must give up the pleasures and endearments of domestic life, to be the slave of ness of his heart should incline him to acts of humanity and benevolence, he will have frequently the mortification of seeing his charities ill bestowed; and by his inability to relieve all, the constant one of making more enemies by his refusals, than friends by his benefactions. If we add to these considerations a truth, which I believe few persons will dispute, namely, that the greatest fortunes, by adding to the wants of their possessors, usually render them the most necessitous men, we shall find greatness and happiness to be at a wide distance from one another. If we carry our enquiries still higher, if we examine into the state of a king, and even enthrone him, like our own, in the hearts of his people; if the life of a father be a life of care and anxiety, to be the father of a people is a pre-eminence to be honoured, but not envied. The happiness of life is, I believe, generally to be found in those stations, which neither totally subject men to labour, nor absolutely exempt them from it. Power is the parent of disquietude, ambition of disappointment, and riches of disease. I will conclude these reflections with the following fable : * The ten commandments. |