“Several of his Majesty’s Justices of the Peace for the County of Middlesex, having, in pursuance of an order of a former Quarter Session, made an inquiry into the houses and places where Geneva and other such pernicious distilled liquors are sold by retail, about this time made their report; by which it appears, to the great surprise and concern of those who have the trade and welfare of the public truly at heart, that there are in the limits of Westminster, Holborn, the Tower, and Finsbury divisions (exclusive of London and Southwark) 7,044 houses and shops, where the said liquors are publicly sold by retail, (which in several parishes, is computed to be, at least, every sixth house,) besides what is privately sold in garrets, cellars, back-rooms, and other private places.

“That of this number, no less than 2,105 are unlicensed; and that Geneva is now sold, not only by distillers and Geneva shops, but by above 80 other inferior trades; particularly chandlers, weavers, tobacconists, shoemakers, carpenters, barbers, tailors, dyers, labourers, &c. &c.; there being in the Hamlets of Bethnal Green, upwards of 90 weavers who sell this liquor.”

“JANUARY 20TH, 1736.”  G.K.

* * * * *

THE DEATH OF ADAM.

(FROM THE GERMAN.)

When Adam was nine hundred and thirty years old, he felt in himself the word of the judge, “Thou shalt die.”  Then spoke Adam to the weeping Eve:  “Let my sons come before me, that I may see and may bless them.”  They all came at their father’s word, and stood before him, many hundred in number, and prayed for his life.  “Who among you,” said the old man, “will go to the holy mountain?  Very likely he may find pity for me, and bring to me the fruit of the tree of life.”  Immediately, all his sons offered themselves; and Seth, the most pious, was chosen by his father for the message.  He besprinkled his head with ashes, hastened, and delayed not, until he stood before the gate of Paradise.  Then prayed he, “Let my father find pity, kind-hearted one, and send to him fruit from the tree of life.”  Quickly there stood the glittering cherub, and instead of the tree of life, he held a twig of three leaves in his hand.  “Carry this to thy father,” said he, friendly, “his last consolation is here; for eternal life dwells not on the earth.”  Swiftly hastened Seth, threw himself down, and said, “No fruit of the tree of life bring I to thee, my father, only this twig has the angel given me, to be thy last consolation here.”  The dying man took the twig, and was glad.  He smelled on it the fragrance of Paradise, and then was his soul elevated:  “Children,” said he, “eternal life dwells not for us on the earth; you must follow after me; but on these leaves I breathe the refreshing air of another world.”  Then his eyes failed; his spirit fled hence.