To corroborate his opinion, this writer gives an extract from a Scotch newspaper, stating, that a water-spout had descended and done considerable damage in a part of that country.

In stormy weather, when the barometer is low, and the atmosphere light, if clouds, which contain much moisture, happen to impinge against any of the hills of an alpine country, they are certainly liable in such case to discharge their contents in heavy rains, which, descending rapidly from the summits of the hills, rush with irresistible force down the valleys, carrying every thing before them; and these local discharges of heavy rain are commonly called water spouts by the neighbouring inhabitants. The Hawkesbury river, in New South Wales, is sometimes subject to a rise of from twenty to thirty feet above the natural level, by the sudden rupture of clouds on the summits of the Blue Mountains. About thirteen years ago a phenomenon of this kind happened at St. Helena, when a cloud suddenly broke upon the hill that forms the head of Rupert's valley; and although the bed of this valley is generally dry, the immense body of water that rushed through it at this time, bore down the strong line of stone ramparts, and carried some heavy pieces of artillery into the sea.

I think (although the last number of the Naval Chronicle is not now before me) his correspondent considers the water-spout seen at sea to be a similar, if not the same phenomenon as this last mentioned, except that the white column in the centre of the spout he considers to be a congregated mass, or body of water descending from the clouds to the sea. Now, as many water-spouts are of great diameter, I am decidedly of opinion, that if the central white column were a body of falling water upon the surface of the sea, its noise would be heard many miles, if not many leagues, like the falls of Morency and Niagara, and would sink, or destroy any unfortunate ship which happened to come in contact with its vortex; but, my experience compels me to think otherwise, as I never heard the noise of any waterspout until very close to it, and then, the noise resembled that of steam issuing through a small aperture of a boiler, occasioned by the whirlwind's rapid motion in disengaging water in the gaseous form from the surface of the sea: besides, if the central white column were a mass of falling water, its diameter ought to increase by the resistance of the atmosphere in descending, and consequently be greater near the sea than higher up towards the cloud; but this probably never happens, as the diameter of a water-spout, as well as the interior column, is greatest near the impending cloud, and converges towards the sea. That whirlwinds, or water-spouts, may often differ much in formation and appearance, I believe there can be little doubt; but I have certainly, more than once, both by ocular and tangible

observation, been convinced, that a whirlwind and water-spout are sometimes one and the same phenomenon. At one time, when dense clouds, charged with electric matter, approached the ships in Canton river, a regular water-spout was formed by a tube descending from the cloud in the usual manner, and the whirlwind turned one of the ships round at her moorings. As this whirlwind passed over the island, close to the village of Whampoa, it unroofed several thatched houses, and tore the leaves from the trees, which were carried up a considerable way into the atmosphere by the whirlwind, and at this time it had a dense appearance; but as soon as it drifted over the land and came in contact with the water of the river, the white tube became very conspicuous in the centre of the whirlwind, and the water seemed to be torn from the surface of the river and carried upwards, in small particles, by the whirlwind. Had any light terrene bodies been floating in the rivver at this time, in the path of the whirlwind, they certainly would have been drawn upward like those which came into its vortes when it passed over the land. This was certainly an example of the unity of a whirlwind and water-spout. At another time a regular-formed water-spout was driven along by the wind till its exterior surface nearly touched the quarter of our ship, when I plainly saw the water disengaged from the surface of the sea with a hissing noise, and carried upward in the gaseous form by the ascending whirlwind, while the vacuum, or cavity, in its centre, was very distinct, with heavy drops of rain falling down both from the interior and exterior sides of the ascending spiral, where it was evident the power of the whirlwind was not capable of carrying all the gaseous particles up into the cloud. When we were close to this waterspout the white tube in the centre was not visible, but only a vacant column, as mentioned above; which column, had we been a quarter or half a mile off, would probably, by an optical illusion, haye appeared, as usual, like a white column of water.

In the straits of Malaeca I have sometimes seen upwards of a dozen water-spouts at the same time, and have been near to several. Once I passed through the vortex of a whirlpool produced by a water-spout beginning to form; it was directly under a dense cloud, from which an inverted conical tube was descending when we passed through the whirlpool in the ship: this was about twenty or twenty-five yards in diameter, and the water was carried round by the force of the whirlwind over it, with a velocity of about from three to four miles an hour, breaking in little waves with a hissing noise, by a portion of those waves being torn away in the form of white vapour. 1 felt a pleasing sensation at the time, expecting, when passing through the vortex of an incipient water-spout, to be a close observer of it completely formed; but whether the

The following Narrative of the attempt made by the Confederates, on the night of the 3d of September, 1771, to Assassinate the King of Poland, is given by Nathaniel Wraxall. In the midst of these turbulent and disastrous scenes, the confederates (who ever considered the king as unlawfully elected, and who imputed to his fatal elevation, and direction or approbation, all the various ills under which the kingdom groaned from the Russian oppression) planned and executed one of the most daring enterprises of which modern history makes mention, I mean the attempt to assassinate the king. It is somewhat remarkable, that in an age so humanised, so free from the enormous and flagitious crimes common in barbarous centuries, so enlightened as is the present, this is the third attempt on a crowned head in my remembrance: Louis XV. Joseph I. of Portugal, and Stanislaus Augustus, all narrowly escaped assassination.* As the attempt on his Polish majesty was perhaps the most atrocious, and his escape certainly the most extraordinary and incredible of the three, I shall be as minute as possible in the enumeration of all the principal circumstances which led to, and which attended this remarkable event.

A Polish nobleman, named Pulaski, a general in the army of the confederates, was the person who planned the atrocious enterprise; and the conspirators who carried it into execution were about forty in num ber, and were headed by three chiefs, named Lukawski, Strawenski, and Kosinski. These three chiefs had been engaged and hired to that purpose by Pulaski, who in the town of Czetschokow, in Great Poland, obliged them to swear in the most solemn manner, by placing their hands between his, either to deliver the king alive into his hands, or, in case that was impossible, to put him to death. The three chiefs chose thirty-seven persons to accompany them. On the 2d of November, about a month after they had quitted Czetschokow, they obtained admission into Warsaw, unsuspected or undiscovered, by the following stratagem :-They disguised themselves as peasants who came to sell hay, and artfully concealed their saddles, arms, and clothes, under the loads of hay which they brought in wagons, the more effectually to escape detection.

On Sunday night, the 3d of September, 1771, a few of these conspirators remained in the skirts of the town; and the others repaired to the place of rendezvous, the street of the Capuchins, where his majesty was expected to pass by about his usual hour of returning to the palace. The king had been to visit his uncle, prince Czartoriski, grand chancellor of Lithuania, and was on his return from thence to the palace, between nine and ten o'clock. He was in a

To these may be added George III. who narrowly escaped from the blow of Margaret Nicholson.

coach, accompanied by at least fifteen or sixteen attendants, besides an aid-de-camp in the carriage. Scarce was he at the distance of two hundred paces from prince Czartoriski's palace, when he was attacked, by the conspirators, who commanded the coachman to stop, on pain of instant death. They fired several shot into the carriage. one of which passed through the body of a heydac, who endeavoured to defend his master from the violence of the assassins. Almost all the other persons* who preceded and accompanied his majesty were dispersed; the aid-de-camp abandoned him, and attempted to conceal himself by flight Meanwhile the king had opened the door of his carriage, with the design of effecting his escape under shelter of the night, which was extremely dark. He had even alighted, when the assassins seized him by the hair, exclaiming in Polish, with horrible execra tions, "We have thee now; thy hour is come." One of them discharged a pistol at him so very near that he felt the heat of the flash; while another cut him across the head with his sabre, which penetrated to the bone. They then laid hold of his majesty by the collar, and, mounting on horseback, drags ged him along the ground between their horses, at full gallop, for near five hundred paces through the streets of Warsaw.t

All was confusion and disorder during this time at the palace, where the attendants, who had deserted their master, had spread the alarm. The footguards ran immediately to the spot from whence the king had been conveyed, but they found only his hat all bloody, and his bag: this increased their apprehensions for his life. The whole city was in an uproar. The assassins profitted of the universal confusion, terror, and con sternation, to bear away their prize. Find ing, however, that he was incapable of fol

* It is incredible, that such a number of persons as were with his Polish majesty on that me morable night, should all so basely abandon him, except the single heyduc who was killed, and who so bravely defended his master. This man was a protestant; he was not killed on the spot, but expired next morning of his wound. The king allows a pension to his widow and children.

It is astonishing, that, in the number of balls which passed through the carriage, not one should hurt or wound the king. Several wem through his pelisse, or fur great-coat. I have seen this cloak, and the holes made in it by the pistol bullets. Every part of the clothes which his majesty wore on that night is carefully preserved. It is no less wonderful, that when the assassins had seized on the king, they should carry him through such a number of streets without being stopped. A Russian centinel did hail them; but, as they answered in Russian, he allowed them to pass, imagining them to be a patrole of his nation. This happened at some distance from the place where they had carried off the king. The night was exceedingly dark, and Warsaw has no lamps. All these circumistances contribute to account for this extraordi

nary event.

lowing them on foot, and that he had almost lost his respiration from the violence with which they had dragged him, they set him on horseback, and then redoubled their speed for fear of being overtaken. When they came to the ditch which surrounds Warsaw, they obliged him to leap his horse over. In the attempt the horse fell twice, and at the second fall broke its leg. They then mounted his majesty upon another, all Covered as he was with dirt.

The conspirators had no sooner crossed the ditch, than they began to rifle the king, tearing off the order of the Black Eagle of Prussia, which he wore round his neck, and the diamond cross hanging to it. He requested them to leave him his handkerchief, which they consented to: his tablets escaped their rapacity. A great number of the assassins retired after having thus plundered him, probably with intent to notify to their respective leaders the success of their enterprise, and the king's arrival as a prisoner. Only seven remained with him, of whom Kosinski was the chief. The night was exceedingly dark; they were absolutely ignorant of the way; and, as the horses could not keep their legs, they obliged his majesty to follow them on foot, with only one shoe, the other being lost in the dirt.

They continued to wander through the open meadows, without following any certain path, and without getting to any distance from Warsaw. They again mounted the king on horseback, two of them holding him on each side by the hand, and a third leading his horse by the bridle. In this manner they were proceeding, when his majesty, finding they had taken the road which lead to a village called Burakow, warned them not to enter it, because there were some Russians stationed in that place, who might probably attempt to rescue him.t Finding himself, however, incapable of accompanying the assassins in the painful posture in which they held him kept down on the saddle, he requested them, since they were determined to oblige him to proceed, at least to give him another horse and a boot. This request they complied with;

* It was Lukawski, one of the three chiefs of the band, who tore off the ribbon of the Black Eagle, which his Prussian majesty had conferred on the king when he was count Poniatowski. One of his motives for doing this, was by showing the order of the Black Eagle to Pulaski and the confederates, to prove to them incontest ably that the king was in their hands, and on his way. Lukawski was afterwards executed.

This intimation, which the king gave to his assassins, may at first sight appear extraordinary and unaccountable, but was really dictated by the greatest address and judgment. He apprehended with reason, that, on the sight of a Russian guard, they would instantly put him to death with their sabres, and fly; whereas, by informing them of the danger they incurred, he in some measure gained their confidence in effect, this behaviour of the king seemed to soften them a little, and made them believe he did not mean to escape from them.

and continuing their progress through almost impassable lands, without any road, and ignorant of their way, they at length found themselves in the wood of Bielany, only a league distant from Warsaw. From the time they had passed the ditch, they repeatedly demanded of Kosinski, their chief, if it was not yet time to put the king to death; and these demands were reiterated in proportion to the obstacles and difficulties they encountered.*

Meanwhile the confusion and consternation increased at Warsaw. The guards were afraid to pursue the conspirators, lest terror of being overtaken should prompt them in the darkness to massacre the king; and on the other hand, by not pursuing they might give them time to escape with their prize, beyond the possibility of assistance. Several of the first nobility at length mounted on horseback, and following the track of the assassins, arrived at the place where his majesty passed the ditch. They there found his pelisse, which he had lost in the precipitation with which he was hurried away: it was bloody, and pierced with holes made by the balls or sabres. This convinced them that he was no more.

The king was still in the hands of the seven remaining assassins, who advanced with him into the wood of Bielany, when they were suddenly alarmed by a Russian patrole or detachment. Instantly holding council, four of them disappeared, leaving him with the other three, who compelled him to walk on. Scarce a quarter of an hour after, a second Russian guard challenged them anew. Two of the assassins then fled, and the king remained alone with Kosinski, the chief, both on foot. His majesty, exhausted with the fatigue which he had undergone, implored his conductor to stop, and suffer him to take a moment's repose. Kosinski refused it, menacing him with his naked sabre; and at the same time informed him, that beyond the wood they should find a carriage. They continued their walk, till they came to the door of the convent of Bielany. Kosinski appeared lost in thought, and so much agitated by his reflections, that the king perceiving his disorder, and observing that he wandered without knowing the road, said to him, "I see

The king, in his speech to the diet on the trial of the conspirators, interceded strongly for Kosinski, or John Kutsma, to whom he gratefully expresses himself indebted for these favours in the following words:

"As I was in the hands of the assassins, I heard them repeatedly ask John Kutsma, if they should not assassinate me, but he always prevented them. He was the first who persuaded them to behave to me with greater gentleness; and obliged them to confer upon me some services which I then greatly wanted; namely, one to give me a cap, and a second a boot, which at that time were no trifling presents: for the cold air greatly affected the wound in my head; and my foot, which was covered with blood, gave me inexpressible torture, which con tinued every moment increasing.”

you are at a loss which way to proceed. Let me enter the convent of Bielany, and do you provide for your own safety." "No," replied Kosinski, "I have sworn.

They proceeded till they came to Mariemont, a small palace belonging to the house of Saxony, not above half a league from Warsaw: here Kosinski betrayed some satisfaction at finding where he was; and the king still demanding an instant's repose, he consented at length. They sat down together on the ground, and the king employed these moments in endeavouring to soften his conductor, and induce him to favour or permit his escape. His majesty represented the atrocity of the crime he had committed, in attempting to murder his sovereign, and the invalidity of an oath taken to perpetrate so heinous an action: Kosinski lent attention to this discourse, and began to betray some marks of remorse. "But," said he, "if I should consent, and re-conduct you to Warsaw, what will be the consequence? I shall be taken and executed."

This reflection plunged him into new uncertainty, and embarrassment. "I give you my word," answered his majesty, "that you shall suffer no harm; but if you doubt my promise, escape while there is yet time. I can find my way to some place of security; and I will certainly direct your pursuers to take the contrary road to that which you have chosen." Kosinski could not any fonger contain himself, but, throwing himself at the king's feet, implored forgiveness for the crime he had committed; and swore to protect him against every enemy, relying totally on his generosity for pardon and preservation. His majesty reiterated to him his assurances of safety. Judging, however, that it was prudent to gain some asy. Jum without delay, and recollecting that there was a mill at some considerable distance, he immediately made towards it. Kosinski knocked, but in vain, no answer was given; he then broke a pane of glass in the window, and entreated for shelter to a nobleman who had been plundered by robbers. The miller refused, supposing them to be banditti, and continued for more than half an hour to persist in his denial. At Jength the king approached, and speaking through the broken pane, endeavoured to persuade him to admit them under his roof, adding, "if we were robbers, as you suppose, it would be very easy for us to break the whole window, instead of one pane of glass." This argument prevailed; they at length opened the door, and admitted his majesty. He immediately wrote a note to general Coccei, colonel of the foot guards. It was literally as follows: "Par une espece de miracle je suis sauve des mains des assassins. Je suis ici au petit moulin de Mariemont. Venez au plutot me tirer d'ici. Je suis blesse, mais pas fort."- -66 By a kind of miracle I am escaped from the hands of assassins. I am now at the mill of Mariemont. Come as soon as possible, and take me from hence. I am wounded but not

dangerously." It was with the greatest difficulty, however, that the king could persuade any one to carry this note to Warsaw, as the people of the mill, imagining that he was a nobleman who had just been plundered by robbers, were afraid of falling in with the troop. Kosinski then offered to restore every thing he had taken; but his majesty left him all, except the blue ribbon of the White Eagle.

When the messenger arrived with the note, the astonishment and joy was incredible. Coccei instantly rode to the mill, followed by a detachment of the guards. He met Kosinski at the door with his sabre drawn, who admitted him as soon as he knew him. The king had sunk into a sleep, caused by his fatigue, and was stretched on the ground, covered with the miller's cloak. Coccei immediately threw himself at his majesty's feet, calling him his sovereign, and kissing his hand. It is not easy to paint or describe the astonishment of the miller and his family, who instantly imitated Coccei's example, by throwing themselves on their knees. The king returned to Warsaw in general Coccei's carriage, and reached the palace about five o'clock in the morning. His wound was found not to be dangerous; and he soon recovered the bruises and injuries which he had suffered during that memorable night.

So extraordinary an escape is scarce to be paralleled in history, and affords ample matter of wonder and surprise. Scarce could the nobility or people at Warsaw credit the evidence of their senses, when they saw him return. Certainly neither the escape of the king of France from Damien, or of the king of Portugal from the conspiracy of the duke d'Aveiro, were equally amazing or improbable, as that of the king of Poland. I have related it very minutely, and from authorities the highest and most incontestable.

It is natural to inquire what is become of Kosinski, the man who saved his majesty's life, and the other conspirators. He was born in the palatinate of Cracow, and of mean extraction; having assumed the name Kosinski (his real name was John Kutsma) which is that of a noble family, to give himself credit. He had been created an officer in the troops of the confederates under Pulaski. It would seem as if Kosinski began to entertain the idea of preserving the king's life from the time when Lukawski and Strawenski abandoned him; yet he had great struggles with himself before he could resolve on this conduct, after the solemn engagements into which he had entered. Even after he had conducted the king back to Warsaw, he expressed more than once his doubts of the propriety of what he had

* I have been at this mill, rendered memora Polish hovel, at a distance from any house. The ble by so singular an event. It is a wretched king has rewarded the miller to the extent of his wishes, in building him a mill upon the Vistula, and allowing him a small pension.