Taken and cast for murder at the age of 29y.-10m. 10d. but received his pardon at 30y.-2m,

87 24

and it leaves

Declination of o

his distance from the 10th.

His distance from the western angle 29 12

Which is the mid-heaven to his O, and consequently the ascendant to his 8.

The result would have been the same if the oblique descension of the western angle had been taken from that of o under the pole of the 7th, or the oblique ascension of the ascendant from the oblique ascension of the opposite place of ♂ with contrary latitude. It must also be remarked, that ♂ came at the same time to the 8 of and nearly so to h.The approximation of? to the mid-heaven, and the > to the biquintile of in mundo direct, were the directions that saved his life.

The directions for death are numerous, and of the most malignant nature: whether we take the horoscope or ǹ for Hyleg, there would appear sufficient cause to produce it: however, ↳ having great dignities in the ascendant, it being his house, joy and triplicity; being lord of the figure, and within three degrees of the oriental horizon,-lord, also, of the preceding new moon, appears to claim that dignity: and after passing his own square, the quartile also, of ☀ in the Zodiac, he made the Ở of the, of which the following is the calculation.

Right ascension of h

Ascensional difference under his pole, 50° 30′, as

311° 43′

>'s ascensional difference under the pole of h

50° 30', as the is in a northern sign, sub

tract

Oblique ascension of >

Oblique ascension of h, subtract

Arch of direction

Whoever chooses to make the calculations will find this fatal direction to have been preceded by the following, viz,

h to his own in the Zodiac,

h to the of ☀.

Ascendant to the of >.

> to the parallel of ↳ converse,

> to Ah in the world, at 47 years.

[The Biography of Richard Savage, with a copious illustration of the science as it applies to him, in our next.]

To the Editor of the Monthly Correspondent.

SIR,

Brigg, Lincolnshire, Jan. 4th, 1814.

I SEND you the Horoscope of a Maniac, who was born about four miles east of this town; which, in a very eminent degree, proves the potency of stellar influence, both on the body and mind. I knew this poor fellow well, He was not

tall, his hair was brown, his eyes, before they were distorted by fury, or glazed by idiotcy, of a bright blue, and his complexion fair; his shoulders were rather round, as it is called, and he stooped forward in his gait.

His reasoning powers were never either keen or active; and, from infancy, he used to be troubled with excruciating pains in the ear. His father, with whom he toiled daily, is a labourer-a just, liberal-minded, and honest man; with talents far superior to most men in his station. The heart of his son, previously to the overthrow of his reason, was affectionate and kind to all. When a neighbour was in trouble, he was the first to lend his hand, if possible, to relieve, and, when that was impracticable, to drop a tear for, his sufferings.

Of music he was passionately fond. On hearing sweet and simple melodies, I have seen his faculties so totally absorbed, as nearly to overpower him, and he has wept with the ecstasy of delight he felt. Yet his angry passions, when roused, were very violent; and his strength, at those periods, approximated to supernatural. His mother having a large family, though she was tender and good, could not bestow that superior care and attention on his sickly infancy, which perhaps it called for: and the slowness of his apprehension ever exposed him to the taunts and the mockery of the unfeeling.

His mother died, I believe, in August, 1797; from which period may be dated the first symptoms of the total decline of his reason. This event was soon followed by another most painful and distressing; and the heavenly lamp was quenched for ever. His father rented a little cottage, where his ancestors had lived, and laboured for honest bread near a century. Here he might still have existed and enjoyed his limited portion of happiness; but a new rector, with whom his father was not a favourite, came to take possession of the village living, and tore away the cottage, that so long had sheltered them from the storms, and the little

fields that so long had fed the cows, that nurtured them which deed of vindictive tyranny was the fulfilment of his fate. He was deranged 15 years, and died at 36 yrs. 8 mths. Alas, poor Joe! may thy manes be gratified by this remembrance :-thou wast harmless; and as far as thou hadst the power, loved and practised virtue. Accept the tributary tear here paid thee,-and if to know thy memory is loved and pitied, can heighten the bliss thou enjoyest IN A PLACE WHERE THY OPPRESSORS CAN NEVER COME,-mayest thou know it! I am, Mr. Editor,

Yours, &c.-F. A.

P.S. The circumstance of his madness, and the cause. of it, making some stir in this part of the county, it gave birth to the following pathetic stanzas, which were published a little time ago in a volume of poems, written by Thomas Robinson, who was born in the same village. As they do not disgrace the pen of that poet, I will not apologize to him for requesting you to publish them with this short sketch. They will convey more forcibly to the minds of your readers, the hapless state of this long suffering victim and his family, than any words in my power to use.

THE MANIAC.

[Vide Robinson's Tyrolese Villagers, &c. page 169.1

"BEHOLD yon poor creature, that roams through the common,
So torn by the briar and drench'd with the rain,
He seems all bewilder'd, and car'd for by no one,
Now franticly laughing, now groaning with pain.
His head is expos'd to the blast keenly blowing;
His feet to the thorn and the thistle are bare:
Of the thorn and the thistle, unheeding, unknowing,
Distracted he roams in the cold, piercing air.
Say, has he no father, no brothers, who love him-
Who hear, and who pity the wanderer's moan?

No mother, no sister, no friend to remove him,

From the bleak wintry waste, where he wanders alone ? -

Yes, he has a father and brothers who love him,

His sisters, for his sake, shed many a tear;

From the bleak wint'ry waste they do always remove him,
Yet, still he will fly from relations so dear.

He's a heart-broken maniac-grief and misfortune
His innocent hopes and his wishes o'erthrew ;
All scenes of past pleasure by him are forgotten,
And madly he ponders on woes ever new.

Tho' pale was the sunbeam that shone on his morning
And feeble the blessing that Reason bestow'd;
Yet, Hope, with her blossoms, the prospect adorning,
By Innocence led, gave a charm to his road.

By yonder thick alders a neat cottage rises,

There once the poor soul with his parents did dwell; Each comfort was theirs, which the feeling heart prizesEach comfort, alas! which he lov'd but too well.

Adversity sometimes look'd into their dwelling;

Very hard through the Summer and Winter they toil'd;
But o'er want and o'er weariness calmly prevailing,
Contentment and health on the cottagers smil'd.
With the fair star of morning he rose to his labours,
All-cheerily whistling his task to pursue;

As the dove he was gentle, and kind to his neighbours,
And his eye with a tear would their sorrows bedew.
"Twas his heart's dearest wish, when old age slowly creeping,
Had scatter'd its snows on the head of his sire;

When his nerves were unstrung, from the hard parish keeping,
He safe in that cottage to rest would retire:

Where be, the lov'd path of his duty pursuing,
Most happy his parent's decline to assuage,
Their daily support by his labours renewing,
Hop'd fondly to foster the pillow of age.

Thus, Time sped away, till their cottage was wanted,
And the ground they possess'd on another bestow'd;
'Twas little, indeed, yet that little was granted,

To swell the increase of the rich and the proud.

One May's lovely morning, the dogs of oppression,
When the Spring, gay advancing, humanity cheers,
Bereft them of all!!-FOR THE FIEND-LIKE TRANSGRESSION,
MAY THE CURSE OF THE MANIAC STILL RING IN THEIR EARS!
Resistance was fruitless! their house they surrender'd,
Their sweet little meadow, and garden so trim;

And the spark of his God with the shock darkly wander'd-
Though the sun did shine gaily, it shone not for him,