As it grew darker, the strong, red glare of the light-house
shedding its lurid gleams on the waves, added a novel effect to the
scene.

At the very moment I was turning from the shore, to retrace my steps,
the deep tone of a distant bell fell on my ear. It was the Curfew
Bell--which had been tolled regularly at eight o'clock in the evening,
since the days of the despotic William.

The vast changes that had taken place in society, in fact, in every
thing, since the institution of this custom, occupied my thoughts during
my walk; and I felt no little gratification in the assurance that what
was originally the edict of a barbarous and despotic age, was now merely
retained as a relic of ancient times.

It may be thought romantic, but the first hearing of the Curfew Bell
often occurs to my memory; and there are times when I fancy myself
walking on that lone shore, and the objects that I then thought so
beautiful, are as distinctly and vividly seen as if I were actually
there.

REGINALD.

The only drawback from the interest of this brief paper is that the
writer does not state the name of the Village whence he heard the Curfew
Bell.

* * * * *

BARBAROUS PUNISHMENTS.

It is almost inconceivable how long Fnglishmen have retained their
barbarous practices. It is not more than a century since a trial for
witchcraft took place in England, and hardly eighty since one occurred
in Scotland. The crime of coining the King's money is still treated as
treason, and women, for the commission of this crime as well as that of
murdering their husbands, were sentenced to be strangled, and afterwards
publicly burned. In London this horrible outrage upon civilized feelings
was perpetrated in Smithfield. One of these melancholy exhibitions took
place within the memory of many persons. The criminal was a fine young
woman, and the strangling had not been completed, for when the flames
reached her at the stake, she uttered a shriek. This produced, as it
well might, a general horror, and the practice was abandoned, though the
law was not abrogated. It was the mild and enlightened Sir Samuel
Romilly who first brought in a bill to annul the old acts which ordered
the most revolting mutilation of the corpses of traitors, agreeable to a
sentence expressed in the most barbarous jargon. Mark, this was only a
few years since, I believe in 1811.

What must have been the taste of our forefathers, who suffered