William Joy was a native of Kent, and born May 2, 1675, at St. Lawrence, a small village one mile from Ramsgate, in the Isle of Thanet. When very young, he distinguished himself among his juvenile companions and playmates, by his amazing superiority in strength, over any antagonist that dare to come in competition with his power, whether in play or earnest When about twenty-four years of age, he first began to exhibit in public his astonishing feats, in a display of personal prowess inferior to none but the Hebrew champion recorded in holy writ. Among many other of this man's extraordinary performances may be recorded:—1. A strong horse, urged by the whip to escape his powerful rein, is restrained and kept from escape solely by the check of his pull, aided by a strong rope, and this without any stay or support whatever. 2. Seated upon a stool, with his legs horizontally elevated, solely by muscular power, he jumps clearly from his seat. 3. To prove the agility and flexibility of his joints, he places a glass of wine on the sole of his foot, and, in an erect posture, without the least bending of his head or body, raises the glass to his mouth, and drinks the contents, turning his foot with both hands, to accommodate his draught. 4. Aided by a strong leather girdle, or belt, and supporting himself by pressing his arms on a railing, he lifts from the ground a stone of the enormous weight of 2,240 lbs. 5. A rope fastened to a wall, which had borne 3,500 lbs. weight, without giving way, is broke asunder by his amazing strength. The celebrity of this man attracted the curiosity of King William III., before whom he exhibited at Kensington Palace; likewise before George, Prince of Denmark, and his royal consort, the Princess, afterwards Queen Anne, and their son William, Duke of Gloucester, called the Hope of England. He also went through a regular course of performances at the Duke's Theatre, in Dorset-gardens, Salisbury-square, which was attended by the first nobility and gentry in the kingdom.
PRICE OF SHELL-FISH IN 1675.
A bill for shell-fish enables us to ascertain the prices paid in Charles II.'s reign for these delicacies. Mr. Walter Tucker, mayor of Lyme, Dorset, paid for the judges, for—
| 30 lobsters | £1 | 10 | 0 |
| 6 crabs | 0 | 6 | 0 |
| 100 scallops | 0 | 5 | 0 |
| 300 oysters | 0 | 4 | 0 |
| 50 oranges | 0 | 2 | 0 |
| — | — | — | |
| £2 | 7 | 0 |
DISTRIBUTING HAND-BILLS.
The month of July 1736 afforded a singular popular explosion, contrived in the following strange manner:—A brown paper parcel, which had been placed unobserved near the side-bar of the Court of King's-bench, Westminster-hall, blew up during the solemn proceedings of the Courts of Justice assembled, and scattered a number of printed bills, giving notice, that on the last day of Term five Acts of Parliament would be publicly burnt in the hall, between the hours of twelve and one, at the Royal Exchange, and at St. Margaret's hill, which were the Gin Act, the Smuggling Act, the Mortmain Act, the Westminster Bridge Act, and the Act for borrowing 600,000l. on the Sinking fund.
One of the bills was immediately carried to the Grand Jury then sitting, who found it an infamous libel, and recommended the offering of a reward to discover the author.
RANZ DES VACHES.
The "Ranz des Vaches," which is commonly supposed to be a single air, stands in Switzerland for a class of melodies, the literal meaning of which is cow-rows. The German word is Kureihen—rows of cows. It derives its origin from the manner the cows march home along the Alpine paths at milking time. The shepherd goes before, keeping every straggler in its place by the tones of his horn, while the whole herd wind along in Indian file, obedient to the call. From its association it always creates home-sickness in a Swiss mountaineer, when he hears it in a foreign land. It is said, these melodies are prohibited in the Swiss regiments attached to the French army, because it produces so many desertions. One of the "Ranz des Vaches" brings back to his imagination his Alpine cottage—the green pasturage—the bleating of his mountain goats—the voices of the milkmaids, and all the sweetness and innocence of a pastoral life; till his heart turns with a sad yearning to the haunts of his childhood, and the spot of his early dreams and early happiness.