following quotation is merely the title of the pamphlet Cruden published on his escape from this place: knighthood in these court visits; explaining, that "if it should be asked why the Corrector was so desirous of the honour of being a knight, he answers, that thinking men often seek after titles rather to please others than themselves." Disappointed in this view, he next offered himself as a parliamentary candidate for the city of London, in 1734, and was actually put in nomination. He appealed to the citizens "whether there were not just grounds to think that God would be pleased to make him an instrument to reform the nation, and to bring the citizens of London to a more religious temper and conduct." He was treated with great good humour by the other candidates and their friends, and although he lost the election, he consoled himself with the thought that he had won the people's hearts. Having thus failed, for the present at least, in his preliminary steps towards the reform of the whole nation, he did not in the meanwhile think an unworthy part thereof beneath his notice. Hearing of the dissipation prevalent in the university of Oxford, he went down, and boldly exercised the duties he had imposed upon himself He frequented the public walks, reproving whatever levity or indecorum met his eye, and on the Sabbath bade the wanderers go home and employ their minds on sacred subjects. So little was his success after all, that he shook off the dust of his feet against the devoted city, and returned to London. In 1761 we find him engaged, by Woodfall, as a corrector of his celebrated journal, the Public Advertiser; and, in 1762, he published a second edition of his 'Concordance,' with a dedication to the Earl of Halifax. The object of this dedication was to obtain pardon for one Richard Potter, a seaman, condemned to death for forging a brother sailor's will, and who, from a state of deep insensibility and ignorance, was roused, by Cruden's instructions and spiritual ministrations, into a penitent and better condition. The application was successful, and thus ended an affair which was highly creditable to Cruden's humanity and perseverance. Nothing less than a general reform of the criminals in Newgate would do after this, which was accordingly attempted -we need scarcely add, in vain. "The London Citizen exceedingly injured, giving an account of his adventures during the time of his severe and long campaign at Bethnal Green, for nine weeks and six days, the citizen being sent thither in March, 1738, by Robert Wightman, a notoriously conceited whimsical man, where he was chained, handcuffed, strait-waistcoated, and imprisoned; and he would probably have been continued and died under his confinement, had he not most providentially made his escape by cutting with a knife the bedstead to which he was chained. With a History of Wightman's Blind Bench, which was a sort of court that sat in Wightman's room at the Rose and Crown in the Poultry, and unaccountably pretended to pass decrees in relation to the London Citizen; partícularly this blundering and illegal Blind Bench decreed that the London Citizen should be removed from Bethnal Green to Bethlehem Hospital, the audacious men thinking by that means to screen Wightman and the criminals from punishment for confining the Citizen; but Providence frustrated their designs." The "punishment" here alluded to was to arise from the anticipated verdicts in the actions for damages which Cruden had instituted against Wightman and Dr. Munro, the parties he looked on as the chief offenders. Of the first trial, that against Dr. Munro, he gives an account too long for quotation; it concludes thus:"The chief bencher is not an ignorant man, and wanted the Corrector to consent that the jury should withdraw, and give no verdict; but he refused it with indignation, being fully convinced that he had a right to a verdict, and therefore he would not approve of their unjust proceedings. The bencher afterwards directed or rather commanded the jury, by saying, You are to bring a verdict for the defendants,' which they did. The Corrector made a speech in court before the verdict; and after the verdict, meekly said, I trust in God.' The chief bencher replied, 'I wish you had trusted more in God, and not have come hither.'". A new pamphlet now appeared, commencing " Mr. Cruden exceedingly injured," &c. And really he seems Cruden was a loyal subject of the house of Hanover, to have been right in his sense of injury, if, as he and took an active part in the politics of the day. He states, such harshness was used towards him; for how-launched a spirited pamphlet at Wilkes, and, not conever eccentric or even annoying his conduct to parti- tent with that, took the trouble to walk through the cular individuals occasionally may have been, not the streets, erasing the objectionable "No. 45"* from the slightest tendency to mischief as regards any of his walls: indeed, whilst we are upon this latter subject, fellow-creatures ever appeared. Neither does it ap- we may remark, that he seldom went out without a pear possible that his insanity could ever have been sponge for the purpose of rubbing off the walls any invery violent, for even now, immediately after he had decent or otherwise offensive expression he might thus made his escape from confinement, he returned to find. In 1769 he visited Aberdeen, but it was only to his old avocations, and, according to competent au- find the truth of the old proverb, "a prophet hath no thorities, pursued them in the most satisfactory manner honour in his own country." The extravagance of his to all concerned. views, or the ludicrous manner he used in enforcing them, excited the laughter of his audiences, and put his placidity of temper to a severe trial. One of the quizzers was a conceited young clergyman, on whom Cruden most effectually turned the ridicule, hitherto directed towards himself, by formally and gravely presenting him with a little manual then popular in Scotland, entitled The Mother's Catechism, dedicated to the young and the ignorant! But the end of poor Cruden's life, with all its simple follies and valuable and enduring labours, was approaching; he returned to London in a few months, and on the 1st of November, 1770, was found dead in his chamber at his lodgings in Camden Street, Islington. He had been in perfect health the preceding evening, and at the moment of death must have been praying, as was evident from the attitude in which he was found. In 1753 he again fell in love; the object of his addresses was, on this occasion, a rich widow lady, whom he speaks of under the fictitious name of Whitaker. His malady now recurred to such a degree, that he was once more placed in confinement. No sooner was he freed than he commenced, as before, an action against the parties; but the counsel threw up their briefs before the trial, and the verdict was of course again in favour of the defendants. Still unsatisfied, Cruden moved the court of King's Bench for a new trial; that, too, was refused; upon which, in the presence of the judges, he immediately cried out, with a loud voice, "I appeal to the king in council, or to the House of Lords." He reconsidered this determination, however, and issued another pamphlet instead, which he determined to present to the king personally. His applications for admittance were treated with contempt, with but one exception. He had hoped, it appears, to have attained the honour of A DAY OF LOUIS XIV. DURING the reign of Louis XIV., which embraced the long period of seventy-two years, from 1643 to 1715, France was changed from a feudal monarchy into an absolute one. Under the previous reign Richelieu had successfully commenced the policy of weakening the feudal nobility, and thus paved the way for the absolute government of Louis XIV., under whom this work was completed. The nobility were drawn from their châteaux to court, employed about the person of the monarch, and rendered dependent on his favour. They soon lost their former spirit of independence, and, becoming corrupted by pensions and court favours, sank into a state of effeminacy from which they never rose. Their vices, follies, and weaknesses hastened the Revolution, and at the same time disabled them from taking any useful part in that great movement, under which they were ruthlessly crushed. The following account of a day at the court of Louis XIV., taken from the memoir-writers of the period, presents a humiliating picture of the French nobility at that time, when the highest object of their ambition was the favour of the sovereign, to obtain which they eagerly aspired to perform menial services about his person : About eight o'clock in the morning, while a servant prepared the fire in the king's apartment, and Louis No. 566. still slept, the pages of the chamber gently opened the windows, and removed the collation which had been left in case of the king requiring refreshment in the night. Bontemps, the first valet, who had slept in the same room, and had dressed himself in the antechamber, re-entered, and waited, silent and alone, until the clock struck the hour at which the king had desired to be awakened. He then approached the king's bed, saying, "Sire, the clock has struck," and went directly into the ante-chamber to announce that his majesty was awake. The folding-doors were then thrown open, and the Dauphin and his children, Monsieur and the Duke de Chartres, were in waiting to wish him "good morning." The Duke du Maine, the Count de Toulouse, the Duke de Beauvillers, first gentleman of the chamber, the Duke de la Rouchefoucauld, grand master of the wardrobe, entered, followed by the first valet of the wardrobe and other officers bringing in the king's dresses. The principal physician and surgeon were also admitted. Bontemps, then handing a silver-gilt vessel, poured on the king's hands some spirit of wine; the Duke de Beauvillers presented the holy water, and his majesty made the sign of the cross, while the Dauphin and the Duke du Maine, approaching the king's bed, asked him how he had slept. After he had recited a very short religious service, M. de St. Quentin laid before him several peruques, and the king pointed out the one he intended to wear. soon as he rose from his bed, the Duke de Beauvillers VOL. X.-F As handed him a rich morning-gown, and Quentin presented the peruque, which the king put on himself. Bontemps next drew on his majesty's stockings, and, on being dressed, the holy water was again offered to him. He now went from the balustrade within which the bed was placed, but which is not shown in the engraving, as the scene is supposed to be within it, and, seating himself in an arm-chair near the fire-place, demanded "la première entrée," which the Duke de Beauvillers repeated in a loud voice, on which a page of the chamber admitted those who, by right of their office or the king's favour, were entitled to be present at the "petit lever." The Marshal Duke de Villeroy, the Count de Grammont, the Marquis de Dangeau, M. de Beringhen, the four secretaries, Colin and Baurepas, readers of the chamber, Vergins, the Count de Crécy, secretary of the cabinet, and the Baron de Breteuil, with several keepers of the wardrobe not on service, and the keepers of the gold and silver plate, were introduced. His majesty then underwent the operation of shaving, the basin being held by Charles de Guisgne, Quentin adjusting the shaving-cloth, and applying the soap-brush and razor, and afterwards a soft sponge dipped in spirit of wine, and subsequently in pure water. The king wiped his face with a dry napkin, Bontemps holding a looking-glass during the whole of these operations. When these were finished, Caillebat, Marquis de la Salle, and Letellier, Marquis de Louvre, master of the wardrobe, prepared to attend the king while he dressed, previous to which he demanded the "grande entrées," the admission to which was regarded as one of the highest court favours. On each individual presenting himself in the ante-room, the Sieur de Rassé, one of the ushers of the chamber, approached the Duke de Beauvillers, and announced his name in a low tone, the duke repeating it to the king, when, if his majesty did not make any objection, the introduction took place. Nobles of the highest rank, marshals, bishops, governors of provinces, and presidents of the parliament, now entered in succession. At length a gentle knock is heard at the door, and Beauvillers is ready to receive from the groom of the chamber the name of the new comer, and to announce it to the king; but the door is opened without ceremony, although it was neither a great churchman nor soldier; it was Racine: and soon afterwards Boileau, Molière, and Mansard, the architect, are introduced with as little form. The king, however, is now engaged in dressing, and the courtiers have the gratification of witnessing this ceremony. The page of the wardrobe hands to Gabriel Bachelier his majesty's stockings and garters, who presents them to the king, and Louis puts on the former himself. Another officer hands his "haute-dechausse," to which silk stockings are attached, and a third puts on the king's shoes. Two pages, splendidly dressed, remove the habiliments which the king throws off, and his majesty buckles the garters himself. Breakfast is now ready, and Louis commands Racine to seat himself at the table. Two officers of the goblet bring in the breakfast service. The chief butler presents to the Duke de Beauvillers a silver-gilt cup, in which the duke pours out wine and water from two decanters, borne by another officer, tastes the beverage, and, after the cup has been rinsed, he presents it to the king, who drinks. The Dauphin then gives his hat and gloves to the first gentleman of the chamber, takes a napkin, handed to him by another officer, and presents it to the king, who wipes his lips. After breakfast is finished, Louis takes off his morning gown, and the Marquis de la Salle assists the king in taking off his night-vest by the left hand, while Bontemps is similarly employed on the right, The latter receives from the king his purse, and hands it to François de Belloc, who places it in a cabinet, and remains in charge of it. Bachelier brings a shirt, which he has aired, and presents it to the Duke de Beauvillers, and the Dauphin, again laying aside his hat and gloves, hands it to the king. Two officers extend before the king his "robe de chambre," and Bachelier receives the garment which the king has taken off. The Marquis de la Salle assists the king to pull on his long stockings, and the Duke de la Rochefoucauld helps him on with his under-waistcoat. Two valets of the wardrobe then present the king with his waistcoat, sword, and the blue ribbon with the crosses of the Holy Ghost and St. Louis. The Duke de la Rochefoucauld buckles on the sword, and the Marquis de la Salle assists his majesty to put on his coat, and next presents him with a rich lace cravat, which the king ties on himself. The Marquis next empties the pockets of the dress which had been worn by the king on the previous day, and which is held by Bachelier, and receives from the Sieur de SaintMichel two handkerchiefs, presented to him on a waiter. The king then kneels in the space between the bed and the wall, and repeats a prayer, all the cardinals and bishops approaching and joining in a low tone. His majesty was now ready to receive such of the foreign ambassadors as had occasion to wait upon him; and the ambassador of Spain was introduced to him by appointment, previous to which a coverlet was thrown on the bed, and the curtain drawn in front and at the feet. The king took his seat within the balustrade, the Dukes de Beauvillers and de la Rochefoucauld and the Marquis de la Salle standing near him, and the princes of the blood being seated by his side. The ambassador is introduced, and makes three obeisances, upon which the king rises, and, taking off his hat, salutes the ambassador, after which, putting on his hat, he resumes his seat. The ambassador, who had by this time commenced his address, put on his hat, on which the princes did the same. At the conclusion of the interview he retires, bowing three times. A lieutenant-general of one of the provinces is next introduced, for the purpose of taking the oaths of office, during which he kneels and places his hands within those of the king, having previously given his sword, hat, and gloves to an officer of the chamber. When the king was indisposed or took medicine, the honour of being present at the "grand entrée" was one of the highest aspirations of the courtiers, the mode of reception being less formal. The "grand entrée" was terminated by the king exclaiming, in a loud voice, "To the council!" on which he immediately proceeded to his cabinet, where he found many officers in waiting, to whom he gave orders for the day. To the Bishop of Orleans, first almoner, he said that he would go to mass at noon, instead of half-past nine, as he had intended; to the Marquis de Livry, his first maitre-d'hôtel, that he would dine in his private apartment, and that he would sup "au grand couvert," that is, in state; to Bontemps, who handed to him his watch and reliquary, that he would visit the fives' court, to the officer of the wardrobe, that he would go out at two o'clock, and would take his mantle and muff; then, putting on his ordinary peruque, he took his seat at the upper end of a table covered with green velvet, the Dauphin and other illustrious and distinguished persons taking their seats near him, according to their rank. At the conclusion of the council, his majesty repaired to the chapel, and, in passing, gave the watchword of the day to the gendarmes, dragoons, and musqueteers. During mass, the king's musicians performed a fine motet, composed by the Abbé Robert. At one o'clock the Marquis de Livry, bâton in hand, announces that dinner is served, when Louis, attended constantly by a captain of the guard, repairs to his apartment, two attendants preceding him, carrying a table already set out. The Sieur du Plessis, who was in waiting, hands to the Duke de Beauvillers a moistened napkin, which the Dauphin presents to the king. Each dish had been tasted beforehand, and on a sign from the king an esquire carver cuts up the viands, and the gentleman in waiting changes the king's plate. After he had dined, his majesty, throwing on his mantle, and having received his muff from the master of the wardrobe, descends to his carriage, which is waiting for him in the marble court, a crowd of seigneurs ranging themselves on each side of the staircase. After remaining some time at the fives' court, where the Dukes de Chartres, de Bourgogne, and du Maine were enjoying this favourite game, he returns to the palace. About three o'clock he pays a visit to Madame de Maintenon, where, reclining in an arm-chair, near the fire-place, opposite this lady, who is working a piece of tapestry, he every day passed one or two hours, listening, occasionally, to Racine, who came here sometimes to read his compositions. Esther' and Athalie,' two of Racine's best productions, were performed in this apartment, by the young ladies of the school of St. Cyr, for the king's amusement, who was highly pleased with the unexpected entertainment. The performance concluded at an early hour, and at ten o'clock Louis took his departure, after remaining some time in conversation with madame, who had already retired to bed. The king, drawing the bedcurtains, then repaired to the apartment in which he was to sup "au grand couvert." The different officers had already made the preparations for this ceremony; the table had been laid out by a gentleman in waiting; and the dishes were brought in according to a ceremonial settled by an ordinance of the year 1681. Being seated at the table, the king requested the Dauphin and the princes to take their places at the other end. The Dauphin presenting a napkin to his majesty, supper commenced, six gentlemen remaining standing to wait upon the royal party. When the king wished to drink, the chief butler called out, in a loud voice, "à boire pour le roi," on which two of the principal servants under him, having made an obeisance, presented a silver-gilt cup and two carafes, and tasted the beverage, when his majesty helped himself, and, after another obeisance, the two officers withdrew to the sideboard. Performances of music took place during the repast, and a crowd of courtiers and persons of distinction were present, who remained standing, or occupied scats around the apartment. All rose on the king getting up from table, and his majesty proceeded to the grand saloon, whither the courtiers followed him. Here he remained standing for a few minutes, engaged in conversation; then, bowing to the ladies, he rejoined his family in another apartment. About midnight preparations were made for the king's retiring. A cold collation was taken into the apartment where he slept; the arm-chair was drawn to the fire-place, and the chief barber arranged the dressing-table. On entering, the king found the courtiers again assembled. He gave his hat, gloves, and cane to the Marquis de la Salle, who handed them to Saint-Michel, and while he unfastens his belt in front, de la Salle detaches it behind, and Saint-Michel places it, with the sword, on the dressing-table. His majesty then says a prayer, and the almoner, who holds the wax lights, also repeats a prayer for the king, and informs him that mass will be said next day at nine o'clock. The king, returning to his seat, hands his watch and reliquary to a valet-de-chambre, and the Duke de Beauvillers, having asked his majesty by whom he wished to be lighted, the Duke de Chartres is distinguished by this mark of royal favour, and takes the wax lights into his hands. The king then takes off the blue ribbon, which de la Salle receives, as well as the king's cravat and waistcoat, and his majesty sitting down, Bontemps and Bachelier take off his garters, and two valets each draw off one of the king's shoes and stockings, which Saint-Michel places on an arm-chair near the bed. Two pages present the king with his slippers, and the Dauphin his "chemise de nuit," which had been aired by a valet of the wardrobe, and his majesty rises to put on his robe de chambre, at the same time bowing to the courtiers, who take this as the signal for withdrawing. Bontemps takes the candlestick from the Duke de Chartres and gives it to one of the nobles who had solicited the honour of holding it, and the groom of the chamber cries out, "Allons, messieurs, passez." The "grand coucher" is finished, and only the princes and others who had been present at the "petit lever" remain. The king now seats himself on a folding seat, near the balustrade, and Quentin combs and arranges his hair, while two valets hold a looking-glass and a light. The Duke de la Rochefoucauld presents the king with his nightcap and two handkerchiefs, and the Duke de Beauvillers hands to the Dauphin a napkin, which the latter is to present to the king. All the attendants are now dismissed, the physician alone remaining, and, after he withdraws, the bed is aired, and the king is left to enjoy, if he can, the repose which such irksome ceremonies must have made needful. Bontemps draws the curtains, secures the doors, and then lays down on a bed prepared for him in the same chamber. Such was a day of Louis XIV. at Versailles! In no Diseases of the Hip-Joint.-In science, as in the useful arts, the advantages of a division of labour are apparent in the more which he directs constant attention; but the benefit does not end complete mastery which an individual obtains over a subject to here, for, unlike the proficiency which is attained by subdividing the parts of manual employment, the successful prosecutor o any particular scientific subject is enabled to communicate the results which he acquires, and thus enables others to profit by his investigations. The labours of numerous individuals, each directing his attention to a part as well as the whole of a subject, tend to perfect the science which it embraces. department is this more obvious than in medical science, and a work by Mr. Coulson, On the Diseases of the Hip-Joint,' is a proof of this, as no professional man, without devoting his attention to this class of diseases, could have accumulated so many valuable facts and such extensive experience concerning it. This disease is often the consequence of carelessness, and persons expose themselves to it without being aware of their danger. Mr. Coulson observes :-"The continued application of cold to the part, a striking cause of enfeeblement, is a common cause of this disease. I attended a child, six years old, who had experienced two attacks of the disease within nine months, each attack having been brought on by sitting on the cold steps. It often originates from damp beds, from working in water or in wet grounds, or being casually much exposed to wet, as among washerwomen and brewers' servants, and others liable to have cially when the body is heated, is a very common cause." But lying on the damp ground, espethus describes some of the peculiarities of this part of the human frame:"All the parts of the hip-joint have a peculiar character; they are low both in regard to vascular action and in the scale of sensibility. The value of this is evident, seeing that there is no rest to this joint, and that every motion of the body is accompanied by movement of the head of the os femoris in the acetabulum; for even the slightest motion, however remote, causes less or greater change in the centre of gravity of the body, and compels us to poise the trunk anew upon the hips. Were those parts more sensible, we should be perpetually lame. Happily, there is sufficient sensibility to form an adequate guard against natural use of the limb-a nice adjustment of sensibility to funcexcessive motion of the joint, and little enough to permit the tion. The left hip-joint, which is feebler than the right, is observed to be more frequently affected." their clothes often wet. He DUNBARTON CASTLE. FEW even of the generally picturesque castles of Scotland possess a happier site than that of Dunbarton. It stands upon a very singular rock jutting out into the Frith of Clyde about fourteen miles below Glasgow, and the top of which divides into two peaks, one considerably loftier than the other; over this very irregular surface the buildings which compose the castle are scattered. The rock itself stands upon a small peninsula formed by the junction of the little but beautiful river Leven with the Clyde, and occasionally, when the tides are high in winter, is completely surrounded by water. The fortress commands the navigation of the Clyde, and is considered the key to the western highlands of Scotland: but its importance is of the past rather than the present; the interest attached to it arises from the events recorded in its history, and not from its strength, or from the objects which cause its strength to be still kept available. To those events, however, our space will only admit of brief reference. The rock was originally called Alcluyth, signifying the rock of the Cluid or Clyde, by the Britons, and is said to have been the seat of Rhydderech-hael the bountiful, king of the Britons. By the Romans it appears to have been called Dun-briton, the fort of the Britons, from whence comes the present designation; they also made it a naval station, under the name of Theodosia; about two hundred and forty years ago, various remains of that people were found at Dunbarton, and on the western peak of the rock we find a circular mass of stones strongly built together, which is supposed to have been erected by the Romans as the base of a watch-tower. From a very early period of what we may call the modern history of Scotland, the castle formed a royal stronghold, and was considered impregnable before the invention of gunpowder; an opinion, however, strangely at variance with the facts of the history of the castle, so often has it been taken and retaken. Of its state about the middle of the sixteenth century, Harding, in his Chronicle, gives the following description: "And pass on furtherwarde to Dunbertayne, About the whiche [Dunbertayne] floweth even and morne When furthe of the same the streames dooe rinne That no manne maie that strong castle assaile." In his If there be any doubt as to the fact of St. Patrick's having been born in the castle, there is little or none as to this being the true neighbourhood. Confessions,' Bonaven Taberniæ is stated to be the place of his birth, which it is supposed is the same with Kilpatrick, a town lying between Dunbarton and Glasgow. At the commencement of Edward the First's manoeuvres to obtain the throne of Scotland, Dunbarton was given up to him, and shortly after placed under the charge of John Baliol. Dunbarton has a near connection with one of the greatest of Scotland's sons, and with one of the most melancholy events of its history. Wallace was brought here immediately after he had fallen into Edward's power by the treachery of the ever infamous Sir John Menteith, and who, among other rewards, obtained the governorship of the castle for his services. A gigantic sword is still shown in the castle as the identical weapon which the great patriot had wielded in many a good fight; and a part of the fortress, most probably that in which he was confined, was long called by his name. In 1309 the castle was taken from Sir John Menteith by a stratagem, of which the particulars are not preserved, but the chief actor was one "Oliver, a carpenter," who re |