with a child in her arms-his cries, and the noise he made in digging were heard by Marianne, who called out. She was extricated with a broken thigh, and saying that Francisca was not far off, a farther seach led to her release also, but in such a state that her life was despaired of; she was blind for some days, and remained subject to convulsive fits of terror. It appeared that the house, or themselves at least, had been carried down about 1500 feet from where it stood before."

"The most considerable of the villages overwhelmed in the the vale of Arth was Goldau, and its name is now affixed to the whole melancholy story and place. I shall relate only one more incident: a party of eleven travellers from Berne, belonging to the most distinguished families there, arrived at Art on the 2d of September, and set off on foot for the Righi, a few minutes before the catastrophe; seven of them had got about 200 yards ahead, the other four saw them entering the village of Goldau, and one of the latter Mr. R. Jenner, pointing out to the rest the summit of the Rossberg, (full four miles off in a straight line,) where some strange commotion seemed taking place, which they themselves (the four behind) were observing with a telescope, and had entered into conversation on the subject with some strangers just come up; when, all at once, a flight of stones, like cannon balls, traversed the air above their heads, a cloud of dust obscured the valley; a frightful noise was heard; they fled! As soon as the obscurity was so far dissipated as to make objects discernible, they sought their friends, but the village of Goldau had disappeared under a heap of stones and rubbish 100 feet in height, and the whole valley presented nothing but a perfect chaos! Of the unfortunate survivors one lost a wife to whom he was just married, one a son, a third the two pupils under his care; all researches to discover their remains were, and have ever since been, fruitless. Nothing is left of Goldau but the bell which hung in its steeple, and which was found about a mile off. With the rocks torrents of mud came down, acting as rollers; but they took a different direction when in the valley, the mud following the slope of the ground towards the lake of Lowertz, while the rocks, preserving a straight course, glanced across the valley towards the Righi. The rocks above moving much faster than those near the ground, went farther, and ascended even a great way up the Righi; its base is covered with blocks carried to an incredible height, and by which trees were mowed down, as they might have been by cannon."

Hunting the Chamois.

"The hunter must have an excellent constitution, particularly to enable him to bear the extreme of cold after being heated by

exercise, sleeping on the damp ground, hunger and thirst, and every other hardship and privation; he must have great muscular strength, to climb all day with a heavy gun across his shoulder, ammunition and provisions, and, at last, the game he kills; he must have a keen sight, a steady foot and head, on the brink of precipices; and, finally, patience equal to his courage.

"Chamois are very fearful, certainly not without sufficient cause, and their sense of smell and sight being most acute, it is extremely difficult to approach them within the range of a shot. They are sometimes hunted with dogs, but oftener without, as dogs drive them away to places where it is difficult to follow them. When a dog is used, he is to be led silently to the track, which he never will afterwards lose, the scent being very strong; the hunter, in the mean time, chooses a proper station to lay in wait for the game, some narrow pass through which its flight will most likely be directed.

"More frequently the hunter follows his dog, with which he easily keeps pace, by taking a straighter direction, but calls him back in about an hour, when he judges the chamois to be a good deal exhausted and inclined to lie down to rest; it is then approached with less difficulty. An old male will frequently turn against the dog, when pursued, and while keeping him at bay allows the hunter to approach very near.

"Hunters two or three in company generally proceed without dogs; they carry a sharp hoe to cut steps in the ice, each his rifle, hooks to be fastened to his shoes, a mountain stick with a point of iron, and in his pouch a short spy-glass, barley-cakes, cheese, and brandy made of gentian or cherries. Sleeping the first night at some of those upper chalets, which are left open at all times, and always provided with a little dry wood for a fire, they reach their hunting grounds at day-light. There, on some commanding situation, they generally find a luegi, as it is called, ready prepared, two stones standing up on end, with sufficient space between to see through without being seen; there one of the hunters creeps, unperceived, without his gun, and, carefully observing every way with his spy-glass, directs his companions by signs.

"The utmost circumspection and patience are requisite on the part of the hunter, when approaching his game; a windward situation would infallibly betray him by the scent; he creeps on from one hiding rock to another, with his shirt over his clothes, and lies motionless in the snow, often for half an hour together, when the herd appears alarmed and near taking flight. Whenever he is near enough to distinguish the bending of the horns, that is about the distance of two hundred or two hundred and fifty steps, he takes aim; but if at the moment of raising his piece the chamois should look towards him, he must remain per

fectly still, the least motion would put them to flight before he could fire, and he is too far to risk a shot otherwise than at rest. In taking aim he endeavours to pick out the darkest coat, which is always the fattest animal; this darkness is only comparative, for the colour of the animal varies continually, between light bay in summer, and dark brown or even black in winter. Accustomed as the chamois are to frequent and loud detonations among the glaciers, they do not mind the report of the arms so much as the smell of gunpowder, or the sight of a man; there are instances of the hunter having time to load again, and fire a second time after missing the first, if not seen. No one but a sportsman can understand the joy of him who, after so much toil, sees his prey fall; with shouts of savage triumph he springs to seize it, up to his knees in snow, despatches the victim if he finds it not quite dead, and often swallows a draft of warm blood, deemed a specific against giddiness. He then guts the beast to lessen its weight, ties the feet together, in such a manner as to pass his arms through on each side, and then proceeds down the mountain, much lighter for the additional load he carries ! When the day is not too far spent, the hunters hiding carefully their game, continue the chase. At home the chamois is cut up, and the pieces salted or smoked, the skin is sold to make gloves and leathern breeches, and the horns are hung up as a trophy in the family. A middle-sized chamois weighs from fifty to seventy pounds, and when in good case yields as much as seven pounds of fat. Not unfrequently the best marksman is selected to lie in wait for the game, while his associates, leaving their rifles loaded by him, and acting the part of hounds, drive it towards the spot. Sometimes when the passage is too narrow, a chamois, reduced to the last extremity, will rush headlong on the foe, whose only resource to avoid the encounter, which on the brink of precipices must be fatal, is to lie down immediately and let the frightened animal pass over him. There was once an instance of a herd of fourteen chamois, which, being hard pressed, rushed down a precipice to certain death, rather than be taken. It is wonderful to see them climb abrupt and naked rocks, and leap from one narrow cliff to another, the smallest projection serving them for a point of rest, upon which they alight, but only just to take another spring; their agility made people believe formerly that they could support themselves by means of their hooked horns. They have been known to take leaps of twenty-five feet down hill over fields of snow."

THE LITERARY POLICE OFFICE, BOW-STREET, LONDON.

Dogberry. One word, Sir: our Watch, Sir, have, indeed, comprehended some auspicious persons, and we would have them this morning examined before your Worship.

Leonato. Take their examination yourself, and bring it me; I am now in great haste, as it may appear unto you. Dogberry, It shall be suffigance.

Dogberry. Go, good partner, go; get you to Francis Seacoal: bid him bring his pen and inkhorn to the goal. We are now to examination these men.

Verges. And we must do it wisely.

Dogberry. We will spare for no wit, I warrant you.

Much Ado about Nothing, Act III.

Yesterday the magistrates, Sir Richard Birnie, and Mr. Minshull, were employed the whole of the day in hearing charges preferred against literary offenders. Some of them were preg nant with great public interest; some were unworthy of notice.

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, a pedlar by trade, that hawks about shoe-laces and philosophy, was put to the bar, charged with stealing a poney, value 40s. from a Mrs. Foy, of Westmoreland; but as no one was near him at the time, and as he was beside himself, the charge could not be brought home. Another charge, however, was made against him, for converting to his own use a spade, with which Mr. Wilkinson had tilled his lands-but as Mr. Wilkinson was a gentleman of the Quaker persuasion, he would not appear to swear, and William also escaped on this charge. There were several readers of William's books who were ready to swear, but their oaths could not be taken. The prisoner had several duplicates of little childish poems and toys about him, which he said he obtained from his grandmother. But it appearing that he had often imposed himself off as that old lady, he was remanded to allow of some inquiry. He conducted himself very extravagantly while before the magistrates, so as to give an idea that he was was not quite right. He called himself the first man-king of the poets-and wanted to read passages from his own works to prove it. The officers had much difficulty in restraining him from getting out of the dock to beat the magistrates' brains out with a log of the Excursion. Jeffrey, the officer was obliged to pinion him.

SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE was brought up for idling about the suburbs of town, without being able to give a satisfactory account of himself. He was taken up for sleeping at Highgate in the day-time. The magistrates committed him to the Muses' Treadmill for two months, to hard labour. It is supposed his feet will be all the better for this exercise. This is the same

person, though much altered, who passed himself off as the Ancient Mariner, at a marriage in the metropolis some time back.

The Rev. Mr. BowLES was charged with stealing fourteen lines from an old gentleman's garden, of the name of Petrarch, at Putney. But he stating that he was not aware of his own dishonesty, and it appearing that the things were of little or no value -he was reproved and discharged. It was supposed that he had stolen these fourteen lines to hang himself with. This is the same person who was taken up on suspicion of being concerned in the attempted murder of Alexander Pope, at Twickenham, some time ago. But it appearing that he had no idea of what he was doing, and was generally reckoned a harmless man-he was not detained. He said he could appeal to his own character.

O. GILCHRIST gave information of having been shot at while playing a game at Bowles, in his garden at Stamford. It is supposed he would have fallen, but the cloth protected him. Several persons have been apprehended on suspicion-not nothing is to be apprehended from the gentleman who was most talked of as the ruffian in the neighbourhood.

JOHN CLARE (a comely country-looking man, in a smock frock, and face to match) appeared to resist an order of filiation, made on the affidavit of one of the Muses with whom he had kept company, and who appeared to have been too liberal of her favours to him. The oath being persisted in, his innocence stood him in no stead; and he was ordered to set apart half-a-crown, out of sixpence a-day, to support the child. He pleaded poverty; but the magistrates explained to him that a poor soldier had been known to have managed such an allowance, and therefore they resisted his plea. Clare is said to have a wife, and ten little children all under the age of four years, which makes his case more reprehensible.

TOM MOORE underwent a long examination for picking the pocket of the public of nine shillings, in Paternoster Row, under the pretence of selling a book. But as it was proved that there were five partners concerned in this transaction, and that he was a mere instrument in their hands, he was on this charge discharged. He was, however, put to the bar on several other complaints, one of which was from a pretty looking unfortunate girl, one of the family of the Muses, who stated that she had known him some years ago, when by the most plausible arts he com. pleted her ruin. She had since then been obliged to have recourse to the most distressing means for subsistence. She had been utterly deserted by him lately, and on her applying to him for relief, he had shut the door in her painted face, and inform ed her through the key-hole that he had married a religious woman out of the Magdalen, and was no longer a dealer in Old Stores. The magistrates could afford this poor unfortunate no relief: JUNE, 1823.-No. 254

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