ert Weir, who appears, for a very small hire, to have
undertaken the task of murdering the gentleman. He was ushered privately
into Warriston's sleeping apartment, where he struck him severely upon
the flank-vein, and completed his crime by strangling him. The lady in
the meantime fled from the nuptial apartment into the hall, where she
remained during the perpetration of the murder. The assassin took flight
when the deed was done; but he was afterwards seized, and executed. The
lady was tried, and condemned to death, on the 16th of June, 1600. The
nurse was at the same time condemned to be burnt alive, and suffered her
sentence accordingly; but Lady Warriston, in respect of her gentle
descent, was appointed to die by the _Maiden_, a sort of rude
guillotine, imported, it is said, from Halifax, by the Earl of Morton,
while regent, who was himself the first that suffered by it.

The printed account of this beautiful murderess contains a pathetic
narrative of the exertions of the worthy clergyman (its author) to bring
her to repentance. At first, his ghostly comfort was very ill received,
and she returned with taunts and derision his exhortations to penitence.
But this humour only lasted while she had hopes of obtaining pardon
through the interest of her family. When these vanished, it was no
longer difficult to bring her, in all human appearance, to a just sense
of her condition; her thoughts were easily directed towards heaven, so
soon as she saw there was no comfort upon earth.

The pride of Lady Warriston's parents suggested a petition that she
might be executed betwixt five and six in the morning; but both the
clergyman and magistrates seem to have consented unwillingly to this
arrangement. The clergyman was particularly offended that the display
of her penitence should not be as public as that of her guilt had been,
and we may forgive the good man if there was any slight regret for a
diminished display of his own success, as a religious assistant, mixed
with this avowed dissatisfaction.--_Quarterly Rev._

* * * * *

SOUND.

The difficulty of transmitting sounds to a great distance arises from
the sound spreading and losing itself in the surrounding air; so that if
we could confine it on one side, as along a well--on two sides, as in a
narrow street--or on all sides, as in a tube or pipe--we should be able
to convey it to great distances. In the cast-iron water-pipe of Paris,
whic