portable cover, and when Mr. B. recollected
that the earth was two hundred thousand
miles from the moon— he thought that it
would be a very good-sized cover, and no
mistake.

But the most important thing that the
industrious Mr. Bubbs beheld was, that as he
rode round the earth on the moon (and it
took him about a month to go round) the
waves of the ocean on the earth, seemed
always to follow him; it was high water at the
nearest places on the earth, but low water at
the sides; and then again it was high water
at the places on the earth, the very farthest
from him. Now Mr. Bubbs had heard of
magnetism, (and animal magnetism, too, but
he didn't believe in that,) and of Mahomet's
coffin being suspended in the air by means of
magnets, and he saw that the effect on the
water was exactly the same as if it had been
attracted by the moon; at the nearest places,
the water was drawn up high towards him,
and naturally dragged away from the sides,
to make up the deficiency— that was plain
enough— but the water was high on the very
opposite and remote side of the earth. How
could that be? in this way: "If the moon
attracts the water on the earth, why should'nt
it also attract the earth itself!" Mr. Bubbs
was right, and saw well enough how it was,
that it was high tide the farthest side of
the earth, as well as the nearest. "Let N.
be the water nearest the earth," said Mr. B.;
"E. the earth itself, and F. the water farthest,
then the moon will evidently pull N. towards
itself most, (being nearest,) and away from E.,
and also E. away from F.,— or the same thing
— F. away from E. in the other direction, and
so it will be high tide both sides of the earth
at the same time, the nearest and farthest,
and low tide at the other two sides." When
Mr. Bubbs had thus explained the theory of
tides to himself to his own great
satisfaction, he said, "Well done, Mr. Bubbs, you'll
do, after all, and if you had only lived a
couple of centuries ago, and thought of this
then— you would have made as great a
discovery as Newton— when he discovered the
law of Universal Gravitation."

TRUE ANECDOTE OF THE LAST CENTURY.

"MORE than sixty years ago," said my
friend— a lady, whom I am proud to call by
that name, in memory of my deceased friend,
her husband, the Master of English Wit and
Sense— "my mother and sister were robbed
by two highwaymen— myself a little girl, in
the carriage with them. The robbery
naturally became a subject of conversation for
some time among our country neighbours.
Our adventure called forth similar narratives;
and among them, one case of personal identity
which is very remarkable. It was related
by our neighbour, Mr. Manners, (I will call
him Mr. Manners) to my mother.

"Mr. Manners was walking over
Westminster Bridge with his intimate friend Mr.
Deacon, (I substitute another name for a real
one), when suddenly a stage-coachman sprang
from his box, rushed at Mr. Deacon, and
seized him by the collar.

"'You rascal! You are the man who robbed
the mail, I drove on such a night.'

"Mr. Deacon smiling, said, 'My good man,
you are quite wrong; this friend of mine will
soon convince you that I am a gentleman, and
totally incapable of such an act.'

"'No, no! that's no go— that won't do for
me. I thought it was you the moment I seed
you; but now, when I hear you speak, I am
positive of it. You must and shall go with
me before a Magistrate.'

"The two gentlemen unhesitatingly went
with him. The coachman swore so positively
to Mr. Deacon being the man, that the magistrate
had no alternative but to commit him
for trial. (In those days, as you know, a.
convicted highwayman was hanged.)

"Mr. Deacon was sent to Newgate. As he
was a man of careless habits, he could by no
means recal the unimportant monotonous
events of the lounging life he led; but he
and his friends felt that the affair began to
assume so serious an aspect, that he directed
all his papers might be conveyed to him, in
order that he might make every desirable
preparation in case of the worst that might
ensue. His friend Mr. Manners often said,

"'Is it impossible for you to recollect
where you were on this day?'

"'I cannot recollect; it is above six weeks
since, and I never kept any journal.'

"The day appointed for the trial was drawing
near. On turning over some apparently
unimportant papers in his prison, Mr. Deacon
met with one, on the outside of which he
had noted his having dined with a party of
friends, and that they had not separated till
one o'clock in the morning (he was a man
of very early habits). The mail was robbed
at twelve. Here was a complete alibi; but
every one of the parties present at this
convivial meeting were in Scotland. The trial
was postponed, with difficulty, until they
could be summoned.

"In the meantime Sir Lionell Lloyd's
coachman was taken up for robbing his
master. Sir Lionell Lloyd was awakened one
night by a man at his bed-side, who, holding
a pistol to his head, commanded him, on pain
of death, to deliver his keys and property.
He had lately received his rents. The man's
face was striped with black. Sir Lionell,
unresistingly, gave him his keys; but he said, 'I
beg you will make no noise, for I have an old
and valuable servant, my coachman, who is
very ill, and I am very unwilling that he
should be unnecessarily agitated.' The man
went to the bureau, rifled it of its valuable
contents, and silently withdrew. The next
day Sir Lionell, looking over the scattered
wreck of his papers, found on the ground,
where many of them had been thrown, a