successors. Every species of perfidy, cruelty, and inhumanity towards the aborigines was practised against them, in order to extort from them their treasures; these mercenary wretches, forcing the natives of Hispaniola so mercilessly to delve and toil for the much-coveted ore, that they actually reduced their numbers, within less than half a century, from two millions to about one hundred and fifty. The conquest of Mexico, by Cortez and his followers, impelled by the same insatiable passion, was accompanied with horrors, atrocities, and slaughters, more dreadful and revolting than almost any recorded in the annals of our race, To prepare the way for enjoying the plunder they had in view, the unoffending Indians were butchered by thousands; while carnage and every species of heartless cruelty marked their progress of spoliation. In the siege of Mexico, no less than a hundred thousand of the natives were sacrificed; and, as if to add to the effrontery and depravity of the act, it was perpetrated under the standard of the cross, and with the invocation of the God of Armies to aid the conquests. The like atrocities characterised the expedition of Pizarro for the conquest of Peru. Under perfidious professions of amity, they captured the Inca, butchering some four thousand of his unresisting attendants. The unfortunate emperor, vainly hoping to regain his freedom, offered them as many vessels of gold as would fill an apartment twenty-four feet long, sixteen wide, and eight high; and after having despatched messengers to collect the promised treasures, he had fulfilled his engagement, when they vilely broke truce, and burnt their wretched victim.

C

In the year 1790, died at Paris, literally of want, the wellknown banker-Osterwald. This miserable victim of this disease, a few days prior to his death, resisted the importunities of his attendant to purchase some meat for the purpose of making a little soup for him. 'True, I should like the soup,' he said, "but I have no appetite for the meat; what is to become of that? it will be a sad waste.' This poor wretch died possessed of 125,000l. sterling. Another desperate case was that of Elwes, whose diet and dress were alike of the most revolting kind, and whose property was estimated at 800,000l. sterling. Among other characteristic incidents related of him,

it is said that on the approach of that dread summons which was to divorce him from his cherished gold, he exclaimed, 'I will keep my money-nobody shall rob me of my property.'

D

We meet with the name of Daniel Dancer, whose miserly propensities were indulged to such a degree, that on one occasion, when, at the urgent solicitation of a friend, he ventured to give a shilling to a Jew for an old hat—'better as new' to the astonishment of his friend, the next day he actually retailed it for eighteen-pence. He was in the habit of carrying a snuffbox about with him, not for the purpose of regaling his olfactory organ, but for what does the reader suppose? to collect pinches of the aromatic dust from his snuff-taking friends; and when the box was filled, he would barter its contents for a farthing rushlight! He performed his ablutions at a neighbouring pool, drying himself in the sun, to save the extravagant indulgence of a towel. Other eccentricities are chronicled of this remarkable 'case'-such as lying in bed during the cold weather to save the cost of fuel, and eating garbage to save the charges for food; yet this poor mendicant had property to the extent of upwards of 3,000l. per annum.

E

There was a Russian merchant-never mind his name, it is too barbarously burdened with consonants to spell or pronounce -who was so prodigiously wealthy, that on one occasion he loaned the Empress Catherine the Second a million of roubles, although he lived in the most deplorable state of indigence, privation, and wretchedness. He buried his money in casks in his cellar, and was so great a miser that he seemed almost to thrive upon his very passion. He had his troubles, however; for, reposing his trust for the security of his possessions upon the fierceness and fidelity of his favourite dog, his bulwark of safety failed him. The dog very perversely died, and his master was driven to the disagreeable alternative of officiating in the place of the deceased functionary, by imitating the canine service-going his rounds every evening and barking as well as any human dog could be expected to do.

F

The well-known Nat Bentley (alias Dirty Dick), of London, belongs to this category. This eccentric specimen of humanity was the victim not only to a craving for gold, but also for old iron. We have a dim recollection of the dingy old shop in Leadenhall Street, piled up with heaps of all kinds of old iron and lumber. The last twenty years of his miserable existence were spent in dirt and destitution. Another deplorable case might be cited-that of Thomas Pitt, of Warwickshire. All his solicitude was about his money; his pulse rose and fell with the public funds. He lived over thirty years ensconced in a gloomy garret, never enlivened with light of lamp or fire, or the cheering smile of friendship. It is reported, that some weeks prior to the sickness which terminated his despicable career, he went to several undertakers in quest of a cheap coffin. As he lived without the regards, so he died without the regrets, of his neighbours-a miserable illustration of the corrupting influence of cupidity. He left behind him 2,4757. in the public funds.

G

Another instance is that of the notorious Thomas Cook. His ruling passion showed itself in all its intensity at the close of his life, for on his physician intimating the possibility of his not existing more than five or six days, with a fierce look of indignation he protested against the useless expense of sending him medicine, and charged the doctor never to show his face to him again.

H

Misers like to feast their eyes with their treasure as well as to handle it. We cite an instance from a recent writer, to this effect. It is an anecdote related of Sir William Smyth, of Bedfordshire. He was immensely rich, but most parsimonious and miserly in his habits. At seventy years of age he was entirely deprived of his sight, unable to gloat over his hoarded heaps of gold; this was a terrible affliction. He was per

suaded by Taylor, the celebrated oculist, to be couched: who was, by agreement, to have sixty guineas if he restored his patient to any degree of sight. Taylor succeeded in his operation, and Sir William was enabled to read and write, without the aid of spectacles, during the rest of his life. But no sooner

was his sight restored, than the baronet began to regret that his agreement had been for so large a sum ; he felt no joy as others would have felt, but grieved and sighed over the loss of his sixty guineas! His thoughts were now how to cheat the oculist; he pretended that he had only a glimmering, and could see nothing distinctly; for which reason the bandage on his eyes was continued a month longer than the usual time. Taylor was deceived by these misrepresentations, and agreed to compound the bargain, and accepted twenty guineas, instead of sixty. At the time Taylor attended him he had a large estate, an immense sum of money in the stocks, and six thousand pounds in the house.

I

Our last citation exhibits an involuntary case of immolation to Moloch.

A miser, of the name of Foscue, who had amassed enormous wealth by the most sordid parsimony and discreditable extortion, was requested by the government to advance a sum of money, as a loan. The miser, to whom a fair interest was not inducement sufficiently strong to enable him to part with his treasured gold, declared his incapacity to meet this demand; he pleaded severe losses and the utmost poverty. Fearing, however, that some of his neighbours, among whom he was very unpopular, would report his immense wealth to the government, he applied his ingenuity to discover some effectual way of hiding his gold, should they attempt to institute a search to ascertain the truth or falsehood of his plea. With great care and secrecy, he dug a deep cave in his cellar; to this receptacle for his treasure he descended by a ladder, and to the trapdoor he attached a spring-lock, so that, on shutting, it would fasten of itself. By-and-by the miser disappeared: inquiries were made; the house was searched; woods were explored, and the ponds were dragged; but no Foscue could they find; and gossips began to conclude that the miser had fled, with his gold, to some part where, by living incognito, he would be free from the hands of the government. Some time passed on; the house in which he had lived was sold, and workmen were busily employed in its repair. In the progress of their work they met with the door of the secret cave, with the key in the lock outside. They threw back the door, and descended with a light. The first

object upon which the lamp reflected was the ghastly body of Foscue the miser, and scattered around him were heavy bags of gold, and ponderous chests of untold treasure; a candlestick lay beside him on the floor. This worshipper of Mammon had gone into his cave, to pay his devoirs to his golden god, and became a sacrifice to his devotion !—Merryweather.

185. THE LION AND THE SPANIEL.

In the afternoon our company went again to the Tower, to see as well as to hear the recent story of the great lion and the little dog.

They found the place thronged, and all were obliged to pay treble prices, on account of the unprecedented novelty of the show; so that the keeper in a short space acquired a little fortune.

The great cage in the front was occupied by a beast, who, by way of pre-eminence, was called the king's lion; and, while he traversed the limits of his straitened dominions, he was attended by a small and very beautiful black spaniel, who frisked and gambolled about him, and at times would pretend to snarl and bite at him; and again the noble animal, with an air of fond complaisance, would hold down his head, while the little creature licked his formidable chaps. Their history, as the keeper related, was this :

It was customary for all, who were unable or unwilling to pay their sixpence, to bring a dog or cat as an oblation to the beast in lieu of money to the keeper. Among others, a fellow had caught up this pretty black spaniel in the streets, and he was accordingly thrown into the cage of the great lion. Immediately the little animal trembled and shivered, and crouched and threw itself on its back, and put forth its tongue, and held up its paws, in supplicatory attitudes, as an acknowledgment of superior power, and praying for mercy. In the meantime the lordly brute, instead of devouring it, beheld it with an eye of philosophic inspection. He turned it over with one paw, and then turned it with the other; and smelled to it, and seemed desirous of courting a further acquaintance.

The keeper, on seeing this, brought a large mess of his own