they had also lost themselves, and having sought their master all over the forest, the noise of their horses, though then at a distance, had frighted the robbers, and saved the Princess from further violation. Thibault took a cloak from one of his equipage, and having mounted his disconsolate lady on horseback, did the same himself, and in a short time arrived at Compostella, neither he nor she speaking a word. Deep affliction was imprinted in both their countenances; but the princess had a wildness in her eyes and air, that discovered the distraction of her mind. Thibault placed her in an abbey, and went and prostrated himself at the feet of the altars; not with the design he went for, but to beg of heaven to enable him to undergo so terrible an adventure. This act of piety being over, he returned to the Princess: who remaining still in the same humour, not being able to get any expressions from her but threats against his life, he took her out, and returned with all possible speed to Ponthieu, where they were received with a joy that they were not able to partake. (_To be continued._) * * * * * [[For sources, see the end of the “Courtship and Marriage” article (No. 10).]] ACCOUNT OF THE LAST MOMENTS OF THE CELEBRATED DR. JOHNSON. He arrived in London on the 16th of November, and next day sent to Dr. Burney, the following note: “Mr. Johnson, who came home last night, send his respects to dear Dr. Burney, and all the dear Burneys, little and great.” Soon after his return to the metropolis, both the asthma and dropsy became more violent and distressful. He had for some time kept a journal in Latin, of the state of his illness, and the remedies which he had used, under the title of “Aegri Ephemeris,” which he began on the 6th of July, but continued it no longer then the 8th of November; finding, probably, that it was a mournful and unavailing register. Dr. Herberden, Dr. Brocklesby, Dr. Warren, and Dr. Butter, physicians, generously attended him, without accepting of any fees, as did Mr. Cruikshank, surgeon; and all that could be done, from professional skill and ability, was tried, to prolong a life so truly valuable. He himself, indeed, having on account of his very bad constitution, been perpetually applying himself to medical enquiries, united his own efforts with those of the gentlemen who attended him; and imagining that the dropsical collection of water which oppressed him, might be drawn off, by making incisions in his body, he, with his usual resolute defiance of pain, cut deep, when he thought that his surgeon had done it too tenderly. About eight or ten days before his death, when Dr. Brocklesby paid him his morning visit, he seemed very low and desponding, and said, “I have been as a dying man all night.” He then emphatically broke out, in the words of Shakspeare,