night. "The night is indeed coming for me," said he, as he seated himself upon a flat low tomb-stone, having but little to distinguish it from the rest. "Pray, who lies here," he inquired, reading aloud the inscription, "L. O. aged nineteen, died May 13, 1810." "There lies," said the young man, "the blessing of our village, father: his name was Louis Oliphant." "Oh! farewell, my son! my son!" exclaimed Wm. Oliphant, as he stretched himself on the tomb, and endeavoured to clasp the cold marble with his arms. The young man stood, in amazement, at the head of the tomb; all was still: even the long branches of the willow waved not, but seemed to weep with him that wept: a fleecy cloud came across the moon, and the stillness of nature sympathized with the mourner's woe: at length it was broken; one deep sigh, and the silver cord was loosed!

DEATH OF DAVID HUME.

THE following is from a correspondent of the Christian Observer, and published in the number of that Magazine for November last.

I enclose a passage relative to the deathbed of Hume the historian, which appeared many years ago in an Edinburgh newspaper, and which I am not aware was ever contradicted. Adam Smith's well-known narrative of Hume's last hours has been often cited, to prove how calmly a philosophical infidel can die; but, if the enclosed account be correct, very different was the picture. I copy it as I find it, hoping that some of your numerous readers may be able to cast some light upon the subject. If the facts alleged in the following statement are not authentic, they ought to be disproved before tradition is too remote ; if authentic, they are of considerable importance on account of the religious use which has been made of the popular narrative; just as was the case in regard to the death-bed of Voltaire, which, to this hour, in spite of well-proved facts, infidel writers maintain was calm and philosophical. The following is the story:

"About the end of 1776, a few months after the historian's death, a respectable looking woman, dressed in black, came into the Haddington stage-coach while passing through Edinburgh.

"The conversation among the passengers, which had been interrupted for a few minutes, was speedily resumed, which the lady soon found to be regarding the state

of mind, persons were in at the prospect of death. One gentleman argued, that a real Christian was more likely to view the approach of death with composure, than he who had looked upon religion as un. worthy his notice. Another (an English gentleman) insisted that an infidel could look to his end with as much complacency and peace of mind as the best Christian in the land. This being denied by his opponent, he bade him consider the death of his countryman, David Hume, who was an acknowledged infidel, and yet died not only happy and tranquil, but spoke of his dissolution with a degree of gaiety and humour.

"The lady who had lately joined them turned round to the last speaker, and said, "Sir, this is all you know about it: I could tell you another tale.' Madam,' replied the gentleman, I presume I have as good information as you can have on this subject, and I believe that what I have asserted regarding Mr. Hume has never before been called in question.' The lady continued: "Sir, I was Mr. Hume's housekeeper for many years, and was with him in his last moments, and the mourning I now wear was a present from some of his relatives for my attention to him on his death-bed; and happy should I have been if I could have borne my testimony to the mistaken opinion that has gone abroad of his peaceful and composed end. I have, sir, never till this hour opened my mouth on this subject; but I think it a pity the world should be kept in the dark on so interesting a topic. It is true, sir, that, when Mr. Hume's friends were with him, he was cheerful, and seemed quite unconcerned about his approaching fate; nay, spoke of it often to them in a jocular and playful manner; but when he was alone, the scene was very different: he was any thing but composed; his mental agitation was so great at times, as to occasion his whole bed to shake. He would not allow the candles to be put out during the night, nor would he be left alone for a minute. I had always to ring the bell for one of the servants to be in the room, before he would allow me to leave it. He struggled hard to appear composed even before me; but to one who attended his bed-side for so many days and nights, and witnessed his disturbed sleeps, and still more disturbed wakings; who frequently heard his involuntary breathings of remorse, and frightful startings; it was no difficult matter to determine that all was not right within. This continued and increased until he became insensible. I hope in God I shall never witness a similar scene."

I leave you, readers, to weigh the probability of this narrative; for myself, I see nothing unlikely in it for a man; who had exerted all his talents to deprive mankind of their dearest hopes and only consolation in the day of trial and the hour of death, may well be expected to suffer remorse in his dying hour; and the alleged narrator of this circumstance, who states herself to have been his housekeeper, is affirmed to have made the declaration on the spur of the occasion, from regard to truth, and by no means for any pique or dislike towards Mr. Hume or his family. Some of your northern readers may perhaps be able to inform me who was Mr. Hume's housekeeper at the time of his death, and whether there is any proof, in writing, memory, or tradition, to the effect of her alleged statement.

GIBBET LAW OF HALIFAX, YORKSHIRE. (From Allen's History of Yorkshire, vol. iii. page 241-246.

THE gibbet law forms a very peculiar feature in the history of Halifax.

"The

inhabitants within the forest of Hardwick had a custom, from time immemorial, that if a felon were taken within their liberty, with goods stolen, out or within the liberty of the said forest, either hand-habend, back-berand, or confessand, any commodity of the value of thirteen pence halfpenny, he should, after three markets, or meeting days, within the town of Halifax, next after such his apprehension, and being condemned, be taken to the gibbet, and have his head cut off from his body."

The process of the gibbet law was as follows. Out of the most wealthy persons, and those of the greatest repute for integrity and understanding in the liberty, a certain number were selected for the trial of the offender; for, when a felon was apprehended, he was immediately brought before the lord's bailiff at Halifax, who, by virtue of the authority granted him from the lord of the manor of Wakefield, under the seal of that manor, kept a common gaol in the town, had the custody of the axe, and was the legal executioner. On receipt of the prisoner, the bailiff issued out his summons to the constables of four several towns within the precincts of the liberty, to require four frith-burghers within each town to appear before him on a certain day, to examine into the truth of the charge.

At the time of appearance, the accuser and the accused were confronted before nem, the thing stolen was produced, and the prisoner acquitted or condemned accord

ing to the evidence, without any oath being administered. If the party accused was acquitted, he was instantly liberated on paying his fees; if condemned, he was either immediately executed, if it was the principal market-day, or kept till then, if it was not, and in the mean while set in the stocks on the less meeting days, with the stolen goods on his back, if portable; or if not, they were placed before him. But the executions always took place on the great market-day, in order to strike greater terror into the neighbourhood. And so strict was this customary law, that whoever within the liberty had any thing stolen, and not only discovered the thief, but secured the goods, could not receive them back without prosecuting the delinquent, but was obliged to bring him, with the stolen property, to the chief bailiff at Halifax, and to carry on the prosecution. Without this procedure, he both forfeited the goods to the lord of the manor, and was liable to be accused of theft-bote, or commutation of felony, for his private connivance and agreement with the felon. After every execution, also, it appears, that the coroners for the county, or some of them, were obliged to repair to the town of Halifax, and there summon a jury of twelve men, sometimes the same persons who condemned the felon, and administer an oath to them to give in a true and precise verdict, relating to the fact for which he was executed, in order that a record might be made of it in the crown office.

It

This custom has obtained the distinguishing appellation of Halifax law. attracted the attention of Camden and his commentators, and is amply explained by Bentley, Wright, and Watson. It is first to be observed, that the felon was liable to suffer, if he was taken within the liberty or precincts of Hardwick. This refers us directly to the privileges of infangthefe and outfangthefe, the origin of which is of great antiquity. These privileges are mentioned in the laws of Edward the Confessor, which William the Norman afterwards confirmed, in the 21st chapter "De Baronibus, qui suas habent curias et consuetudines". concerning the barons who have their courts of law and customs: In this article there is an express mention of infangthefe and outfangthefe, which is thus explained : "Justitia cognoscentis latronis sua est, de homine suo, si captus fuerit super terram suam"-he has the right of taking cognizance of felony, in respect of his own vassals, if the felon be taken within his own manor. But here is nothing said "de homine extraneo," or such as did not belong to the manor, whom the lord had

power to execute by the privilege of outfangthefe, if taken as a thief within his manor, let the robbery have been committed wherever it might. This power, however, was undoubtedly exercised at Halifax, as appears in the following entries in the register:—

"Quidam extraneus capitalem subiit sententiam, 10 Jan. 1542." A certain stranger suffered capital punishment, Jan. 1, 1542; and "Richard Sharp, and John Learoyd, beheaded the 5th day of March, 1568, for a robbery done in Lancashire."

At this town it appears that the felon was to be taken within the liberty, and that if he escaped out of it, even after condemnation, he could not be brought back to be executed; but if ever he returned into it again, and were taken, he was liable to suffer, as was the case of a person named Lacy, who, after escaping, remained seven years out of the liberty, but, venturing to come back, was beheaded on the former verdict, in the year 1623.

In the next place, the fact was to be proved in the clearest manner: the offender was to be taken either hand-habend, or back-berand, that is, having the stolen goods either in his hand or bearing them on his back, or lastly confessand, confess ing that he took them. This is what the writers on ancient laws denominate "furtum manifestum," and perhaps the abhorrence which our ancestors had of that crime, might give rise to the ample power that was so long left to the barons, of punishing offenders of this description; for nothing surely could more effectually deter from the practice of theft, than capital punishment inflicted in this summary way, without much trouble or expense to the prosecutors. But it must, however, be remarked, that there was a great defect in this law; for unless the felon was taken with the stolen goods in his actual possession, which would seldom be the case, he could, by pleading not guilty, avoid conviction; and the person injured had no further redress.

The value of the goods was to amount to thirteen pence halfpenny, or more; and Dr. Grey seems to think, that thirteen pence halfpenny may have been called hangman's wages, in allusion to the Halifax law. Mr. Watson also supposes that this sum of money might be given, at this place, as a gratuity to the executioner.

When the condemned felon was brought to the gibbet, which stood a little way out of the town at the west end, the bailiff, the persons who had found the verdict, and the attending clergyman, placed themselves on

the scaffold with the prisoner. The fourth psalm was then played round the scaffold on the bagpipes, after which the minister prayed with the prisoner till he received the fatal stroke. The execution was performed by means of an engine, similar to the guillotine erected in France. It consisted of two upright posts, or pieces of timber, fifteen feet high, joined at the top by a transverse beam: within these was a square block of wood of the length of four feet and a half, which moved up and down between the uprights by means of grooves made for that purpose: to the lower end of this sliding-block was fastened an iron axe, of the weight of seven pounds twelve ounces. The axe, thus fixed, was drawn up to the top by a cord and pulley. At the end of the cord was a pin, which, being fixed to the block, kept it suspended till the moment of execution, when, by pulling out the pin, or cutting the cord, it was suffered to fall, and the criminal's head was instantly severed from his body. The mode of this proceeding has been differently described.

Harrison says, that every person present took hold of the rope, or at least stretched forth his arm as near to it as he could, in token of his approbation, and that the pin was pulled out in this manner; but if the offender was condemned for stealing an ox, sheep, horse, &c. the end of the rope was fastened to the beast, which, being driven, pulled out the pin. Camden informs us, that if this was not performed by a beast, the bailiff, or his servant, cut the rope; with which Bentley's representation of the matter agrees. From these descriptions of the Halifax gibbet, it evidently appears, that the French guillotine is not, as has been vulgarly believed, a recent invention. The Halifax engine was as nearly as possible of the same construction, and its opeoperation was equally certain and instan

taneous.

In regard to the antiquity of this custom at Halifax, it seems to have been nearly coeval with the town itself. It has already been observed, that in the Domesday book no mention is made of Halifax, and if it existed at that time it must have been only an inconsiderable place. Mr. Watson, therefore, with just probability, supposes that the gibbet law had its beginning about the time that the manor of Wakefield, which included the present parish of Halifax, was bestowed on the Earl of Warren. "In the reign of Edward I. at the pleas of assizes and jurats, John, earl of Warren and Surry, answering to a writ of 'quo warranto,' said, that he claimed gallows

at Coningsburgh and Wakefield, and the power of doing what belonged to a gallows in all his lands and fees, and that he and his ancestors had used the same from time immemorial; to which it was answered, on the part of the king, that the aforesaid liberties belonged merely to the crown, and that no long seisin or prescription of time ought to prejudice the king, and that the earl had no special warrant for the said liberties, therefore judgment was desired, if the seisin could be to the said earl a sufficient warrant. From hence it is evident, that even about the year 1280, no charter of these privileges could be produced, but the prescriptive right was deemed good, for upon the inquisition afterwards taken, it does not appear that any thing was found for the king.

It seems to have been universally agreed, that theft was the only thing cognizable in this court, but, as Mr. Watson informs us, in a MS. in the Harleian collection in the British Museum, under the title of Halifax, is the following entry :-" The court of the countess, held 30th January, 33 Edward III. it is found by inquisition, that if any tenant of this lordship of Halifax be beheaded for theft, or other cause, that the heirs of the same tenant ought not to lose their inheritance, &c."

"The difficulty," says Mr. Watson, "here is, how to account for their behead. ing for other causes than theft, at the above period, and yet no traces of this power remain in later times. This happened either through disuse, or some restraint put upon the power by the crown; for in 1359, a few months after the date of the above inquisition, the said countess died, and the manor came to the crown in the person of Edward IV. as son of Richard, duke of York, whose right it was, and who was killed at Wakefield fight. Now this Edward, if it was not done before, might think proper to reduce the excessive power of the barons, which seemed to infringe too much upon the royal prerogative, if they could put to death for other causes than theft; and this he might do without giving offence to any one, for the power which had gone out from the crown was returned to it again. And, as I take this to be the very period when trade made its first appearance here, it is not improbable 'but so much of the old proceedings might, at the suit of the tenants, be allowed as related to theft, in order to encourage the woollen manufactory, then in its infancy. But it seems they were not to take cognizance of any sort of theft but such as was proved in the clearest manner, and where the thing 2D. SERIES, NO. 21.-VOL. II.

stolen was of such a determined value, that the lives of the king's copyholders and others, might not be too much at the mercy of ignorant or ill-designing men, as perhaps it might be found they had long enough been."

It is a circumstance particularly worthy of remark, that this power of the barons to inflict capital punishment was kept up at Halifax a considerable time after it had ceased in every other part of the kingdom. This, however, seems to have been merely accidental. The privilege was not taken away from any place by act of parliament, but fell by degrees, in consequence of the alteration of circumstances; for as the

66

tenures in capite" ceased, the liberties annexed to them became extinct. But as Halifax was a place of so much trade, this custom, which was calculated to strike terror into thieves, was found to be so great a safeguard to the property of the manufacturers, that they kept it up as long as they dared. And very probably it would not have ceased when it did, if the bailiff had not been threatened after the last execution, that he should be called to a public account, if the like were again attempted.

It seems that theft was exceedingly common in this neighbourhood, and also that the law was rigidly executed; for the register books exhibit a list of forty-nine persons beheaded at Halifax gibbet between the 20th day of March, 1541, and the 30th of April, 1650. Of these, five were executed in the six last years of Henry VIII. twentyfive in the reign of Elizabeth, seven in the reign of James I., ten in that of Charles I., and two during the interregnum. The list of executions, as Mr. Watson observes, is so formidable, that there is no reason to wonder at the proverbial petition of thieves and vagabonds, "From Hell, Hull, and Halifax, good Lord, deliver us."

THE MASSACRE OF PROTESTANTS, CALLED

THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW'S.

In the reign of Charles the Ninth of France, who was contemporary with the English queen Elizabeth, the Hugonots, or Protestants of that kingdom, who had resolutely withstood the efforts of their adversaries to convert or crush them, were taught to consider themselves in a state of security and peace, from the altered feelings and policy of the court; and, as a guarantee of that security, an alliance was formed between Charles and Elizabeth, to whom all eyes were directed, as the chief protector on earth of the Protestant cause; while, to remove still further all apprehension from

3 F

165.-VOL. XIV.

the minds of the French Protestants, a marriage was projected between the sister of Charles and the young Protestant king of Navarre.

The admiral de Coligny, says Russel, the prince of Condé, and all the most considerable men of the Protestant party, went cheerfully to Paris, in order to assist at the celebration of that marriage; which it was hoped would finally appease the religious animosities. Coligny was wounded by a shot from a window, a few days after the marriage; yet the court still found means to quiet the suspicions of the Hugonots till the eve of St. Bartholomew, when a massacre commenced, to which there is nothing parallel in the history of mankind, either for the dissimulation that led to it, or the deliberative cruelty and barbarity with which it was perpetrated.

The Protestants, as a body, were devoted to destruction, the young king of Navarre and the prince of Condé only being exempted from the general doom, on condition that they should change their religion. Charles, accompanied by his mother, beheld, from a window of his palace, this horrid massacre, which was chiefly conducted by the duke of Guise. The royal guards were ordered to be under arms at the close of day. The ringing of a bell was the signal; and the Catholic citizens, who had been secretly prepared by their leaders for such a scene, zealously seconded the execution of the soldiery, embruing their hands, without remorse, in the blood of their neighbours, of their companions, and even of their relations; the king himself inciting their fury by firing upon the fugitives, and frequently crying, Kill, kill! Persons of every condition, age, and sex, suspected of adhering to the reformed opinions, were involved in one undistinguished ruin. About five hundred gentlemen and men of rank, among whom was Coligny, with many other heads of the Protestant party, were murdered in Paris alone; and near ten thousand persons of inferior condition. The same barbarous orders were sent to all parts of the kingdom; and a like carnage ensued at Rouen, Lyons, Orleans, and several other cities. By this massacre, sixty thousand Protestants are supposed to have been massacred in different parts of France.

The best commentary on this event, and on the revocation of the edict of Nantz, which may be regarded as the second act of the same drama, will be found in the narrative of the French Revolution of 1789. The persecution, in either case, was the joint act of the king, nobles, and clergy, of

France; on whom, the consequences of all the murders of Charles, and the dragoonings of Louis, have been poured out in double fury. Verily, there is a God that judgeth in the earth.

But while the massacre of St. Bartholomew's remains unquestioned, various efforts have, of late years, been made, to give new colours to old events; and, by the suppression of some circumstances, and the alteration of others, to represent it as any thing else but what it appears in our older historians. In this spirit, a history of England has been written," for Catholic youth;" that, but for the names of persons occurring in it, might as well pass for an history of Utopia or Atalantis. As an apology, says Russel, for this atrocious perfidy and inhuman butchery, Charles pretended that a conspiracy of the Hugonots to seize his person had been suddenly detected; and that he had been necessitated, for his own safety, to proceed to extremities against them. It is a suffi. cient answer to this, that, even admitting the accusation to be true, such a mode of proceeding, in reference to conspirators, is not consistent with justice, law, or the dignity of authority.

But the pope, in whose cause the act had been perpetrated, was above using any such equivocating apology; and the method adopted at Rome, to mark his approbation of the measure, must ever stand as evidence of the participation, or more than participation, of the pope, and Roman church, in the guilt of this blood. Three pictures were painted, and hung up in the hall where the pope gives audience to ambassadors. In the first of these, Coligny was represented as he was carried to his house, after he had been wounded by the assassin Morevil; and at the bottom of the picture were these words, 66 Gaspar Colignius, amirallius, accepto vulnere domum refertur. Greg. xiii. Pontif. Max. 1572:" (Gaspar Coligny, the admiral, is carried to his house wounded, in the Pontificate of Gregory 13th, 1572.) The second exhibited him murdered in the same house, together with his son-in-law, Teligny, and others, with these words, "Cædes Colignii et sociorum ejus :" (The slaughter of Coligny and his companions.) In the third picture, the news of the execution is brought to the king, who seems pleased with it: the inscription, "Rex Colignii necem probat:" (The king approves of the murder of Coligny.)

The cardinal of Lorrain, who was at Rome, gave a thousand crowns to the messenger who brought the news of the massacre; and, as if the pope's name to the