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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:36:40 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:36:40 -0700 |
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diff --git a/11336-h/11336-h.htm b/11336-h/11336-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..11bd155 --- /dev/null +++ b/11336-h/11336-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1652 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta name="generator" content= +"HTML Tidy for Solaris (vers 1st October 2003), see www.w3.org" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= +"text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> +<title>The Mirror of Literature, Issue 337.</title> + +<style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[*/ + + <!-- + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {text-align: justify;} + blockquote {text-align: justify;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center;} + pre {font-size: 0.7em;} + + hr {text-align: center; width: 50%;} + html>body hr {margin-right: 25%; margin-left: 25%; width: 50%;} + hr.full {width: 100%;} + html>body hr.full {margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 0%; width: 100%;} + hr.short {text-align: center; width: 20%;} + html>body hr.short {margin-right: 40%; margin-left: 40%; width: 20%;} + + .note, .footnote + {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + + span.pagenum + {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 91%; font-size: 8pt;} + + .poem + {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem p.i2 {margin-left: 1em;} + .poem p.i4 {margin-left: 2em;} + .poem p.i6 {margin-left: 3em;} + .poem p.i8 {margin-left: 4em;} + .poem p.i10 {margin-left: 5em;} + + .figure + {padding: 1em; margin: 0; text-align: center; font-size: 0.8em; margin: auto;} + .figure img + {border: none;} + .figure p + + .side { float:right; + font-size: 75%; + width: 25%; + padding-left:10px; + border-left: dashed thin; + margin-left: 10px; + text-align: left; + text-indent: 0; + font-weight: bold; + font-style: italic;} + --> +/*]]>*/ +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11336 ***</div> + +<hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page257" name="page257"></a>[pg +257]</span> +<h1>THE MIRROR<br /> +OF<br /> +LITERATURE, AMUSEMENT, AND INSTRUCTION.</h1> +<hr class="full" /> +<table width="100%" summary="Number, and Date"> +<tr> +<td align="left"><b>Vol. XII, No. 337.</b></td> +<td align="center"><b>SATURDAY, OCTOBER 25, 1828</b></td> +<td align="right"><b>[PRICE 2d.</b></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>Cheese Wring.</h2> +<h4>(<i>To the Editor of the Mirror</i>.)</h4> +<div class="figure" style="width:50%;"><a href= +"images/337-1.png"><img width="100%" src="images/337-1.png" alt= +"Cheese Wring" /></a></div> +<p>In presenting your readers with a representation of the Wring +Cheese, I offer a few prefatory remarks connected with the early +importance of the county in which it stands, venerable in its age, +amid the storms of elements, and the changes of religions. Its +pristine glory has sunk on the horizon of Time; but its legend, +like a soft twilight of its former day, still hallows it in the +memories of the surrounding peasantry.</p> +<p>Cornwall is allowed by antiquaries to be the Capiterides; and +the Abbé de Fontenu, in the <i>Memoires de Literature</i>, +tom. vii. p. 126, proves, according to Vallancey, that the +Phoenicians traded here for tin before the Trojan war. Homer +frequently mentions this metal; and even in Scripture we have +allusions to this land under the name of Tarshish (Ezekiel, c. +xxvii., v. 12-25), being the place whence the Tyrians procured +various metals, and among the rest, the English metal tin. It +appears that the primitive Greeks had a clearer knowledge of these +shores than those in after years; and although Homer, in his shield +of Achilles, describes the earth surrounded by water, yet +Herodotus, notwithstanding his learning and research, candidly +states his ignorance in the following words:—"Neither am I +better acquainted with the islands called Capiterides, from whence +<i>we are said</i> to have our tin." The knowledge of these shores +existed in periods so remote, that it faded. We dwindled away into +a visionary land—we lived almost in fable. The Phoenician +left us, and the link of our history was severed. Hyde de Religione +Vet. Persarum, c. iv. p. 121, supposes Solomon to have traded with +the <span class="pagenum"><a id="page258" name="page258"></a>[pg +258]</span> Peruvians; and the analogies between the Pyramids in +Mexico and Egypt confirm the opinion, and sanction the belief that +the ancients had a more extended knowledge of, and a greater +traffic over, the earth than history records. In the most early +ages, worship was paid to stone idols; and the Pagan introduction +of statues into temples was of a recenter date. The ancient +Etruscans, as well as the ancient Egyptians, revered the obeliscal +stone, (the reason why to the obeliscal stone is given by Payne +Knight, in his extraordinary work;) nor was it, according to +Plutarch, till 170 years after the founding of the city that the +Romans had statues in their temples, their deities being considered +invisible. Many stone pillars exist in this country, especially in +Cornwall; and it is a fair inference that the Phoenician imported +his religious rites in return for his metallic exports—since +we find mention made of stone pillars in Genesis, xxviii. v. 20; +Deuteronomy, xxvii. v. 4.; Joshua, xxiv.; 2 Samuel, xx. v. 8.; +Judges, ix. v. 6., &c. &c. Many are the conjectures as to +what purport these stones were used: sometimes they were +sepulchral, as Jacob's pillar over Rachel, Gen. xxxv. 20. Ilus, son +of Dardanus, king of Troy, was buried in the plain before that city +beneath a column, Iliad, xi. 317. Sometimes they were erected as +trophies, as the one set up by Samuel between Mizpeh and Shen, in +commemoration of the defeat of the Philistines; one was also +erected at Murray, in Scotland, as a monument of the fight between +Malcolm, son of Keneth, and Sueno the Dane. We also find them as +witnesses to covenants, like that of Jacob and Laban, which, though +originally an emblem of a civil pact, became afterwards the place +of worship of the whole twelve tribes of Israel. All these relics, +to say nothing of the cromlechs in Malabar, bear a silent and +solemn testimony of some by-gone people, whose religious and civil +customs had extended wide over the earth. Their monuments remain, +but their history has perished, and the dust of their bodies has +been scattered in the wind. The Druids availed themselves of those +places most likely to give an effect to their vaticinations; and +not only obtained, but supported by terror the influence they held +over the superstitious feelings of our earliest forefathers. Where +nature presented a <i>bizarre</i> mass of rocks, the Druid worked, +and peopled it with his gods, the most remarkable of which is the +subject of our engraving, called the Wring Cheese, or Cheese Wring, +in the parish of St. Clare, near Liskeard, in Cornwall. This +singular mass of rocks is 32 feet high. The large stone at the top +was a logan, or rocking-stone. Geologists are inclined to consider +it as a natural production, which is probably the case in part, the +Druids taking advantage of favourable circumstances to convert +these crags to objects of superstitious reverence. On its summit +are two rock basins; and it is a well-known fact, that baptism was +a Pagan rite of the highest antiquity, (vide the Etruscan vases by +Gorius.) Here, probably, the rude ancestor of our glorious land was +initiated amidst the mystic ceremonies of the white-robed Druid and +his blood-stained sacrifices. A similar mass exists at Brimham, +York; and in the "History of Waterford," p. 70, mention is made of +St. Declan's stone, which, not liking its situation, miraculously +<i>swam</i> from Rome, conveying on it St. Declan's bell and +vestment.</p> +<h4>J. SILVESTER.</h4> +<hr /> +<h3>CURIOUS ANCIENT LEGEND.</h3> +<h4>(<i>For the Mirror</i>.)</h4> +<p>In ancienne tyme, and in a goodly towne, neare to Canterbury, +sojourned a ladie faire. She one nighte, in the absence of her +lorde, leaned her lovely arme upon a gentleman's, and walked in the +fyldes. When journeying far, she became afraide, and begged to +returne. The gentleman, with kyndest sayings and greate courtesey, +retraced their steps; when in this saide momente, this straynge +occurrence came to pass—ye raine descended, though the moone +and millions of starres were shyneing bryght. In journeying home, +another straynge occurrence came to pass; her coral lippes the +gentleman's did meete in sweetest kyss. Thys was not straynge at +all; but that the moone, that still shone bryghte, did in the +momente hide herself behynde a cloude: this was straynge, most +passing straynge indeede. The ladie faire, who prayed to the +blessed Virgin, did to her confesseur this confession mayk, and her +confesseur with charitye impromptu wrote:—</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Whence came the rayne, when first with guileless heart</p> +<p>Further to walk she's lothe, and yet more lothe to part?</p> +<p>It was not rayne, but angels' pearly teares,</p> +<p>In pity dropt to soothe Eliza's feares.</p> +<p>Whence came the cloude that veil'd the orb of nighte,</p> +<p>When first her lippes she yielded to delyght?</p> +<p>It was not cloude, but whylst the world was hush,</p> +<p>Mercy put forthe her hande to hide Eliza's blush."</p> +</div> +</div> +<h4>W.G.C.</h4> +<hr /> +<h3>PICTON'S MONUMENT, CARMARTHEN.</h3> +<h4>(<i>For the Mirror</i>.)</h4> +<p>This interesting national tribute stands at the west end of the +town of Carmarthen, <span class="pagenum"><a id="page259" name= +"page259"></a>[pg 259]</span> rising ground, and is erected in +memory of the gallant Sir Thomas Picton, who terminated his career +in the ever-to-be-remembered battle of Waterloo. The structure +stands about 30 feet high, and is, particularly the shaft and +architrave, similar to Trajan's pillar in Rome; and being built of +a very durable material, (black marble,) will no doubt stand as +many ages as that noble, though now mouldering relic. The pillar +stands on a square pedestal, with a small door on the east side, +which fronts the town, where the monument is ascended by a flight +of steps. Over the door, in large characters, is the hero's name, +PICTON; and above this, in basso relievo, is represented part of +the field of battle, with the hero falling from his horse, from the +mortal wound which he received. Over this, in large letters, is +inscribed WATERLOO. On the west end is represented the siege of +Badajos, Picton scaling the walls with a few men, and attacked by +the besieged. Above this is the word BADAJOS. On the south side of +the pedestal is the following inscription:—</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Sir THOMAS PICTON,</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Knight Grand Cross of the Military Order of the</p> +<p class="i2">Bath,</p> +<p>Of the Portuguese Order of the Tower and Sword,</p> +<p class="i2">and of other foreign Orders;</p> +<p>Lieutenant-General in the British Army, and</p> +<p class="i2">Member of Parliament for the Borough of</p> +<p class="i2">Pembroke,</p> +<p>Born at Poyston, in Pembrokeshire, in August,</p> +<p class="i2">1758;</p> +<p>Died at Waterloo on the 18th of June, 1815,</p> +<p class="i2">Gloriously fighting for his country and the</p> +<p class="i2">liberties of Europe.</p> +<p>Having honourably fulfilled, on behalf of the</p> +<p class="i2">public, various duties in various climates:</p> +<p>And having achieved the highest military renown</p> +<p class="i2">in the Spanish Peninsula,</p> +<p>He thrice received the unanimous thanks of</p> +<p class="i2">Parliament,</p> +<p>And a Monument erected by the British nation</p> +<p class="i2">in St. Paul's Cathedral</p> +<p class="i2">Commemorates his death and services,</p> +<p>His grateful countrymen, to perpetuate past and</p> +<p class="i2">incite to future exertions,</p> +<p>Have raised this column, under the auspices of</p> +<p class="i2">his Majesty, King George the Fourth,</p> +<p class="i2">To the memory of a hero and a Welshman.</p> +<p>The plan and design of this Monument was given</p> +<p class="i2">by our countryman, John Nash, Esq. F.R.S.</p> +<p class="i2">Architect to the King.</p> +<p class="i2">The ornaments were executed by</p> +<p class="i2">E.H. Bailey, Esq. R.A.</p> +<p>And the whole was erected by Mr. Daniel</p> +<p class="i2">Mainwaring, of the town of Carmarthen,</p> +<p class="i2">In the year 1826 and 1827.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>On the north side is the translation of the above in Welsh; and +on the top of the pedestal, on each side of the square, are +trophies. The top of the column is also square, and on each side +are imitative cannons. The statue of the hero surmounts the whole. +He is wrapped in a cloak, and is supported by a baluster, round +which are emblems of spears.</p> +<h4>W.H.</h4> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>THE SKETCH BOOK</h2> +<h3>AN HOUR TOO MANY.</h3> +<p>Hail, land of the kangaroo!—paradise of the +bushranger!—purgatory of England!—happy scene, where +the sheep-stealer is metamorphosed into the shepherd; the +highwayman is the guardian of the road; the dandy is delicate no +more, and earns his daily bread; and the Court of Chancery is +unknown—hail to thee, soil of larceny and love! of +pickpockets and principle! of every fraud under heaven, and +primeval virtue! daughter of jails, and mother of +empires!—hail to thee, New South Wales! In all my +years—and I am now no boy—and in all my +travels—and I am now at the antipodes—I have never +heard any maxim so often as, that time is short; yet no maxim that +ever dropt from human lips is further from the truth. I appeal to +the experience of mankind—to the three hundred heirs of the +British peerage, whom their gouty fathers keep out of their honours +and estates—to the six hundred and sixty-eight candidates for +seats in parliament, which they must wait for till the present +sitters die; or turn rebellious to their noble patrons, or their +borough patrons, or their Jew patrons; or plunge into joint-stock +ruin, and expatriate themselves, for the astonishment of all other +countries, and the benefit of their own;—to the six thousand +five hundred heroes of the half-pay, longing for tardy +war;—to the hundred thousand promissory excisemen lying on +the soul of the chancellor of the ex-chequer, and pining for the +mortality of every gauger from the Lizard to the +Orkneys;—and, to club the whole discomfort into one, to the +entire race of the fine and superfine, who breathe the vital air, +from five thousand a year to twenty times the rental, the unhappy +population of the realms of indolence included in Bond Street, St. +James's, and the squares.</p> +<p>For my own part, in all my experience of European deficiencies, +I have never found any deficiency of time. Money went like the +wind; champagne grew scanty; the trust of tailors ran down to the +dregs; the smiles of my fair flirts grew rare as +diamonds—every thing became as dry, dull, and stagnant as the +Serpentine in summer; but time never failed me. I had a perpetual +abundance of a commodity which the philosophers told me was beyond +price. I had not merely enough for myself, but enough to give to +others; until I discovered the fact, that it was as little a +favourite with others as myself, and that, whatever the plausible +might say, there was nothing on earth <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page260" name="page260"></a>[pg 260]</span> for which they would +not be more obliged to me than a donation of my superfluous time. +But now let me give a sketch of my story. A single fact is worth a +hundred reflections. The first consciousness that I remember, was +that of having a superabundance of time; and my first ingenuity was +demanded for getting rid of the encumbrance. I had always an hour +that perplexed my skill to know what to do with this treasure. A +schoolboy turn for long excursions in any direction but that of my +pedagogue, indicative of a future general officer; a +naturalist-taste for bird-nesting, which, in maturer years, would +have made me one of the wonders of the Linnaean Society; a passion +for investigating the inside of every thing, from a Catherine-wheel +to a China-closet, which would yet have entitled me to the honours +of an F.R.S.; and an original vigour in the plunder of orchards, +which undoubtedly might have laid the foundation of a first lord of +the treasury; were nature's helps to get rid of this oppressive +bounty. But though I fought the enemy with perpetual vigour and +perpetual variety, he was not to be put to flight by a stripling; +and I went to the university as far from being a conqueror as ever. +At Oxford I found the superabundance of this great gift +acknowledged with an openness worthy of English candour, and +combated with the dexterity of an experience five hundred years +old. Port-drinking, flirtation, lounging, the invention of new ties +to cravats, and new tricks on proctors; billiards, boxing, and +barmaids; seventeen ways of mulling sherry, and as many dozen ways +of raising "the supplies," were adopted with an adroitness that +must have baffled all but the invincible. Yet Time was master at +last; and he always indulged me with a liberality that would have +driven a less resolute spirit to the bottom of the Isis.</p> +<p>At length I gave way; left the university with my blessing and +my debts; and rushed up to London, as the grand <i>place +d'armes</i>, the central spot from which the enemy was excluded by +the united strength, wit, and wisdom of a million and a half of +men. I might as well have staid bird-nesting in Berkshire. I found +the happiest contrivances against the universal invader fail. +Pigeon-matches; public dinners; coffee-houses; bluestocking +<i>reunions</i>; private morning quadrille practice, with public +evening exhibitions of their fruits; dilettanti breakfasts, with a +bronze Hercules standing among the bread and butter, or a reposing +cast of Venus, fresh from Pompeii, as black and nude as a negress +disporting on the banks of the Senegal, but dear and delicate to +the eyes of taste; Sunday mornings at Tattersal's, jockeying till +the churches let out their population, and the time for visits was +come; and Sunday evening routs at <i>the</i> duchess's, with a +cotillon by the <i>vraies danseuses</i> of the opera, followed by a +concert, a round game, and a <i>select</i> supper for the +initiated;—the whole failed. I had always an hour too +much—sixty mortal minutes, and every one of them an hour in +itself, that I could never squeeze down.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Ye gods, annihilate both space and time,</p> +<p>And make two lovers happy,"</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>may have been called a not over-modest request; but I can vouch +for at least one half of it being the daily prayer of some +thousands of the best-dressed people that the sun ever summoned to +a day of twenty-four hours long. On feeling the symptoms of this +horary visitation, I regularly rushed into the streets, on the +principle that some alleviation of misery is always to be found in +fellow-suffering. This maxim I invariably found false, like every +other piece of the boasted wisdom of mankind. I found the suffering +infinitely increased by the association with my +fellow-fashionables. A man might as well have fled from his chamber +to enjoy comfort in the wards of an hospital. In one of my marches +up and down the <i>pavé</i> of St. James's Street, that +treadmill of gentlemen convicted in the penalty of having nothing +to do, I lounged into the little hotel of the Guards, that stands +beside the great hotel of the gamblers, like a babe under its +mamma's wing—the likeness admirable, though the scale +diminutive. That "hour too many," cost me three games of billiards, +my bachelor's house, and one thousand pounds. This price of sixty +minutes startled me a little; and, for a week, I meditated with +some seriousness on the superior gaiety of a life spent in paving +the streets, driving a wagon, or answering the knocker of a door. +But the "hour" again overflowed me. I was walking it off in Regent +Street, when an old fellow-victim met me, and prescribed a trot to +Newmarket. The prescription was taken, and the hour was certainly +got rid of. But the remedy was costly; for my betting-book left me +minus ten thousand pounds. I returned to town like a patient from a +watering-place; relieved of every thing but the disease that took +me there. My last shilling remained among the noble blacklegs; but +nothing could rob me of a fragment of my superfluous time, and I +brought even a tenfold allowance of it back. But every disease has +a crisis; and when a lounge through the streets became at once +useless and inconvenient—when <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page261" name="page261"></a>[pg 261]</span> the novelty of being +cut by all my noble friends, and of being seduously followed by +that generation who, unlike the fickle world, reserve their +tipstaff attentions for the day of adversity, had lost its zest, +and I was thinking whether time was to be better fought off by a +plunge to the bottom of the Thames, or by the muzzle of one of +Manton's hair-triggers—I was saved by a plunge into the +King's Bench. There life was new, friendship was undisguised, my +coat was not an object of scorn, my exploits were fashion, my duns +were inadmissible, and my very captors were turned into my humble +servants. There, too, my nature, always social, had its full +indulgence; for there I found, rather to my surprise, nine-tenths +of my most accomplished acquaintance. But the enemy still made his +way; and I had learned to yawn, in spite of billiards and +ball-playing, when <i>the</i> Act let me loose into the great world +again. Good-luck, too, had prepared a surprise for my <i>debut</i>. +I had scarcely exhibited myself in the streets, when I discovered +that every man of my <i>set</i> was grown utterly blind whenever I +happened to walk on the same side of the way, and that I might as +well have been buried a century. I was absurd enough to be +indignant; for nothing can be more childish than any delicacy when +a man cannot bet on the rubber. But one morning a knock came to my +attic-door which startled me by its professional vigour. An +attorney entered. I had now nothing to fear, for the man whom no +one will trust cannot well be in debt; and for once I faced an +attorney without a palpitation. His intelligence was flattering. An +old uncle of mine, who had worn out all that was human about him in +amassing fifty thousand pounds, and finally died of starving +himself, had expired with the pen in his hand, in the very act of +leaving his thousands to pay the national debt. But fate, +propitious to me, had dried up his ink-bottle; the expense of +replenishing it would have broken his heart of itself; and the +attorney's announcement to me was, that the will, after blinding +the solicitor to the treasury and three of his clerks, was +pronounced to be altogether illegible.</p> +<p>The fact that I was the nearest of kin got into the newspapers; +and in my first drive down St. James's, I had the pleasure of +discovering that I had cured a vast number of my friends of their +calamitous defect of vision. But if the "post equitem sedet atra +cura" was the maxim in the days of Augustus, the man who drives the +slower cabriolet in the days of George the Fourth, cannot expect to +escape. The "hour too many" overtook me in the first week. On one +memorable evening I saw it coming, just as I turned the corner of +Piccadilly; fair flight was hopeless, and I took refuge in that +snug asylum on the right hand of St. James's Street, which has +since expanded into a palace. I stoutly battled the foe, for I +"took no note of time" during the next day and night; and when at +last I walked forth into the air, I found that I had relieved +myself of the burden of three-fourths of my reversion. A weak mind +on such an occasion would have cursed the cards, and talked of +taking care of the fragment of his property; but mine was of the +higher order, and I determined on revenge. I had my revenge, and +saw my winners ruined. They had their consolation, and at the close +of a six months' campaign saw me walk into the streets a beggar. I +grew desperate, and was voted dangerous. I realized the charge by +fastening on a noble lord who had been one of the most adroit in +pigeoning me. His life was "too valuable to his country," or +himself, to allow him to meet a fellow whose life was of no use to +any living thing; and through patriotism and the fear of being +shot, he kept out of my way. I raged, threatened to post his +lordship, and was in the very act of writing out the form of the +placard declaring the noble heir of the noble house of +—— a cheat and a scoundrel, when by the twopenny-post I +received a notice from the Horse Guards that I was on that day to +appear in the Gazette as an ensign in his majesty's —— +regiment, then serving in the Peninsula, with orders to join +without delay. This was enough from his lordship, and was certainly +better for me than running the chance of damages in the King's +Bench, for provoking his majesty's subjects to a breach of the +peace.</p> +<p>I was gazetted, tried on my uniform before the mirror, entirely +approved of my appearance, and wrote my last letter to my last +flirt. The Portsmouth mail was to start at eight. I had an hour to +spare, and sallied into the street. I met an honest-faced old +acquaintance as much at a loss as myself to slay the hour. We were +driven by a shower into shelter. The rattle of dice was heard +within a green-baize-covered door. We could not stay for ever +shivering on the outside. Fortune favoured me; in half an hour I +was master of a thousand pounds; it would have been obvious folly +and ingratitude to check the torrent of success for the paltry +prospects of an ensigncy. I played on, and won on. The clock struck +eight. I will own that I trembled as the first sound caught my ear. +But whether nervous <span class="pagenum"><a id="page262" name= +"page262"></a>[pg 262]</span> or not, from that instant the torrent +was checked. The loss and gain became alternate. Wine was brought +in; I played in furious scorn of consequences. I saw the board +covered with gold. I swept it into my stake; I soon saw my stake +reduced to nothing. My eyes were dazzled, my hand shook, my brain +was on fire, I sang, danced, roared with exultation or despair. How +the night closed, I know not; but I found myself at last in a +narrow room, surrounded with squalidness, its only light from a +high-barred window, and its only furniture the wooden tressel on +which I lay, fierce, weary, and feverish, as if I lay on the rack. +From this couch of the desperate, I was carried into the presence +of a magistrate, to hear that in the <i>mélée</i> of +the night before, I had in my rage charged my honest-faced +acquaintance with palpable cheating; and having made good my charge +by shewing the loaded dice in his hand, had knocked him down with a +violence that made his recovery more than doubtful. He had seen my +name in the Gazette, and had watched me for the express purpose of +final plunder. The wretch died. I was brought to trial, found +guilty of manslaughter, and sentenced to seven years' expatriation. +Fortunate sentence! On my arrival in New South Wales, as I was +found a perfect gentleman, and fit for nothing, there was no +resource but to make me try the labour of my hands. Fortunate +labour! From six at morning till six at night, I had the spade or +the plough in my hands. I dragged carts, I delved rocks, I hewed +trees; I had not a moment to spare. The appetite that once grew +languid over venison, now felt the exquisite delight of junk beef. +The thirst that scorned champagne was now enraptured with spring +water. The sleep that had left me many a night tossing within-side +the curtains of a hundred-and-fifty-guinea Parisian bed, now came +on the roughest piece of turf, and made the planks of my cabin +softer than down. I can now run as fast as one of my Newmarket +stud, pull down a buffalo, and catch a kangaroo by the tail in fair +field. Health, vigour, appetite, and activity, are my +superabundance now. I have every thing but time. My banishment +expires to-morrow; but I shall never recross the sea. This is my +country. Since I set my foot upon its shore I have never had a +moment to yawn. In this land of real and substantial life, the +spectre that haunted my joyless days dares not be seen—the +"hour too many" is no more.</p> +<h4><i>The Forget-Me-Not</i>.</h4> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>MANNERS & CUSTOMS OF ALL NATIONS.</h2> +<h4>(<i>For the Mirror</i>.)</h4> +<h3>SELLING MEAT AMONG THE ANCIENT ROMANS, &c.</h3> +<p>It was the custom for the buyer to shut his eyes, and the seller +to hold up some of his fingers; if the buyer guessed aright, how +many it was the other held up, he was to fix the price; if he +mistook, the seller was to fix it. These classic +<i>blind-bargains</i> would not suit the Londonbutchers. This +custom was abolished by Apronius, the prefect of Rome; who in lieu +thereof, introduced the method of selling by weight. Among the +ancient Romans there were three kinds of established butchers, viz. +two colleges or companies, composed each of a certain number of +citizens, whose office was to furnish the city with the necessary +cattle, and to take care of preparing and vending their flesh. One +of these communities was at first confined to the providing of +hogs, whence they were called <i>suarii</i>; and the other two were +charged with cattle, especially oxen, whence they were called +<i>pecuarii</i>, or <i>boarii</i>. Under each of these was a +subordinate class, whose office was to kill, prepare, &c. +called <i>lanii</i>, and sometimes <i>carnifices</i>.</p> +<p>Two English poets (Swift and Gay) have been rather severe +towards the London butchers, the former says,—</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Hence he learnt the <i>Butcher's</i> guile,</p> +<p>How to cut your throat, and smile;</p> +<p>Like a <i>butcher</i> doom'd for life,</p> +<p>In his mouth to wear his knife."</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>The latter,—</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>——"resign the way,</p> +<p>To shun the surly <i>butcher's</i> greasy tray:</p> +<p><i>Butchers</i>, whose hands are died with blood's foul +stain,</p> +<p>And always foremost in the hangman's train."</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>The butchers' company was not incorporated until the 3rd year of +King James I. when they were made a <i>Corporation</i>, by the name +of master, wardens and commonalty of the art and mystery of +butchers; yet the fraternity is ancient.</p> +<p>Stowe says, "In the 3rd of Richard II. motion was made that no +butcher should kill any flesh within London, but at Knightsbridge, +or such like distant place from the walls of the citie."</p> +<h4>P.T.W.</h4> +<hr /> +<h3>STUMBLING AT THE THRESHOLD.</h3> +<p>The phrase, "to stumble at the threshold," originated in the +circumstance, that the old thresholds, or steps under the door, +were like the hearths, raised a little, so <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page263" name="page263"></a>[pg 263]</span> that a +person might stumble over them, unless proper care were taken. A +very whimsical reason for this practice is given in a curious +little tract by Sir Balthazar Gerbier, entitled, "Council and +Advice to all Builders," 1663, in these words:—"A good +surveyor shuns also the ordering of doores with stumbling +thresholds, though our forefathers affected them, perchance to +perpetuate the antient custome of bridegroomes, when formerly at +their return from church they did use to lift up their bride, and +to knock her head against that of the doore, for a remembrance that +she was not to pass the threshold of her house without leave."</p> +<h4>W.G.C.</h4> +<hr /> +<h3>CHINESE PHYSICIANS.</h3> +<p>The charitable dispensation of medicines by the Chinese, is well +deserving notice. They have a stone which is ten cubits high, +erected in the public squares of their cities; whereon is engraved +the name of all sorts of medicines, with the price of each, and +when the poor stand in need of relief from physic, they go to the +treasury to receive the price each medicine is rated at.</p> +<p>The physicians of China have only to feel the arm of their +patient in three places, and to observe the rate of the pulse, to +form an opinion on the cause, nature, danger, and duration of the +malady. Without the patient speaking at all, they can tell +infallibly what part is attacked with disease, whether the brain, +the heart, the liver, the lungs, the intestines, the stomach, the +flesh, the bones, and so on. As they are both physicians and +apothecaries, and prepare their own medicines, they are paid only +when they effect a cure. If the same rule were introduced with us, +I fear we should have fewer physicians.</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>THE TOPOGRAPHER</h2> +<h3>BOX HILL.</h3> +<h4>(<i>For the Mirror</i>.)</h4> +<p>This celebrated eminence is situated in the north range of chalk +hills, beginning near Farnham, in Surrey, and extending from thence +to Folkstone, in Kent. Camden calls it <i>White Hill</i>, from its +chalky soil; but Box Hill is its true and ancient name. The +box-tree is, in all probability, the natural produce of the soil; +but a generally received story is, that the box was planted there +by Thomas, Earl of Arundel, between two and three centuries ago. +There is, however, authentic evidence of its being here long before +his time, for Henry de Buxeto (i.e. Henry of Box Hill) and Adam de +Buxeto were witnesses to deeds in the reign of King John.</p> +<p>John Evelyn, who wrote about the middle of the seventeenth +century, says, "Box-trees rise naturally at Kent in Bexley; and in +Surrey, giving name to Box Hill. He that in winter should behold +some of our highest hills in Surrey, clad with whole woods of them, +might easily fancy himself transported into some new or enchanted +country."</p> +<p>In Aubrey's posthumous work on Surrey, published in 1718, the +northern part of the hill is described as thickly covered with +yew-trees, and the southern part with "thick boscages of +box-trees," which "yielded a convenient privacy for lovers, who +frequently meet here, so that it is an English Daphne." He also +tells us that the gentry often resorted here from Ebbesham +(<i>Epsom</i>), then in high fashion. Philip Luckombe, in his +"England's Gazetteer," says, on Box Hill "there is a large warren, +but no houses; only arbours cut out in the box-wood on the top of +the hill, where are sold refreshments of all sorts, for the ladies +and gentlemen who come hither to divert themselves in its +labyrinths; for which reason a certain author has thought fit to +call it the Palace of Venus, and the Temple of Nature; there being +an enchanting prospect from it of a fine country, which is scarce +to be equalled for affording so surprising and magnificent an idea +both of earth and sky."</p> +<p>But these delightful retreats, like Arcadia of old, have long +since vanished. The <i>yews</i> were cut down in the year 1780; and +their successors fall very short of the luxuriant descriptions of +old topographers. The <i>box</i> has also at various times produced +the proprietors of the estate great profit. In 1608, the receipt +for box-trees cut down upon the sheepwalk on the hill was +50<i>l</i>.; in an account taken in 1712, it is supposed that as +much had been cut down, within a few years before, as amounted to +3,000<i>l</i>.; and in 1759, a Mr. Miller lamented that "the trees +on Box Hill had been pretty much destroyed; though many remained of +considerable bigness."</p> +<p>An immense quantity of box is annually consumed in this country, +in the revived art of engraving on wood. The English is esteemed +inferior to that which comes from the Levant; and the American box +is said to be preferable to ours. But the ships from the Levant +brought such quantities of it in ballast, that the wood on Box Hill +could not find a purchaser, and not having been cut for sixty-five +years, was growing cankered. The <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page264" name="page264"></a>[pg 264]</span> war diminished the +influx from the Mediterranean; several purchasers offered; and in +1795 it was put up to auction at 12,000<i>l</i>. The depredations +made on Box Hill, in consequence of this sale, did not injure its +picturesque beauty, as twelve years were allowed for cutting, which +gave each portion a reasonable time to renew. In 1802, forty tons +were cut, but the market being overstocked, it fell in value more +than fifty per cent.; and the foreign wood is now universally +preferred for engravings. The trees on Box Hill are, however, again +flourishing, although their value is rather problematical.</p> +<p>For the information of the home tourist, perhaps, I ought to +mention that Box Hill stands about 22 miles on the left of the road +from London to Worthing, Brighton, and Bognor, and about 2 miles +N.E. of the town of Dorking. The road from Leatherhead hence is a +constant succession of hill and dale, richly clothed with wood, +interspersed with elegant villas in all tastes—from the +pillared and plastered mansion, to the borrowed charm of the +<i>cottage orne</i>. The whole of this district is called the Vale +of <i>Norbury</i>, from the romantic domain of that name, which +extends over a great portion of the hills on the right of the road. +Shortly before you reach Box Hill, stands <i>Mickleham</i>, a +little village with an ivy-mantled church, rich in Saxon +architecture and other antiquities. You then descend into a valley, +passing some delightful meadow scenery, and the showy mansion of +Sir Lucas Pepys, which rises from a flourishing plantation on the +left. In the valley stands Juniper Hall, late the seat of Mr. +Thomas Broadwood, the piano-forte manufacturer. In the park are +some of the finest cedars in England. On again ascending, you catch +a fine view of Box Hill, and the amphitheatrical range of opposite +hills, with one of the most magnificent <i>parterres</i> in nature. +This is called, by old writers, the <i>Garden of Surrey</i>.</p> +<p>You pass some flint-built cottages, and quitting the road here, +the ascent to Box Hill is gradual and untiring, across a field of +little slopes, studded with a few yew-trees, relics of by-gone +days. The ascent further down the road almost amounts to a feat, +assisted by the foot-worn paces in the chalky steep. Here this +portion of the hill resembles an immense wall of <i>viretum</i>, +down whose side has been poured liquid mortar. The path winds along +the verge of the hill, whilst on the left is a valley or little +ravine, whose sides are clothed with thick dwarfish box, +intermingled with the wild and trackless luxuriance of forest +scenery. Hence the road stretches away to Ashurst, the neat +residence of Mr. Strahan, the King's printer.</p> +<p>Returning to the verge of the hill, you soon reach the +<i>apex</i>, or highest point, being 445 feet from the level of the +Mole.<a id="footnotetag1" name="footnotetag1"></a><a href= +"#footnote1"><sup>1</sup></a> Here you enjoy what the French call a +<i>coup d'oeil</i>, or I would rather say, <i>a bird's-eye +view</i>, of unparalleled beauty. Taking the town of Dorking for a +resting point, the long belt is about twelve miles in extent. The +outline or boundary commences from the eminence on which I am +supposed to be standing—with Brockham Hill, whose steep was +planted by the late duke of Norfolk, and whence the chain extends +away towards the great Brighton road. Next in the curve are +Betchworth Castle and Park, with majestic avenues of limes and +elms, and fine old chestnut-trees. Adjoining, is the Deepdene, the +classical seat of the author of "Anastasius," a place, says Salmon, +"well calculated for the religious rites of the Celts," and +consecrated by the philosophical pursuits of the Hon. Charles +Howard, who built an oratory and laboratory, and died here in 1714. +Next are several fir-crowned ridges, which shelter Bury Hill, the +mansion of Mr. Barclay, the opulent brewer; whence you ascend the +opposite line of hills, till you reach Denbies, nearly facing the +most prominent point of Box Hill. This elegant seat is the abode of +Mr. Denison, one of the county members, and brother of the +Marchioness of Conyngham. The second range or ledge, beneath +Denbies, is the celebrated Dorking lime-works. The transition to +the Norbury Hills, already mentioned, is now very short, which +completes the outline of the view. It should, however, be remarked +that the scenery within this range can be distinctly enjoyed +without the aid of art; whilst beyond it the prospect extends, and +fades away in the South Downs on one hand, and beyond the +metropolis on the other.</p> +<p>The little <i>parterre</i> to be described, includes the +sheltered town of Dorking, environed with rich lawny slopes, +variegated with villas in the last taste; and little heights, from +whose clustering foliage peeps the cottage roof of humble life. But +the Paradise immediately at <span class="pagenum"><a id="page265" +name="page265"></a>[pg 265]</span> the foot of Box Hill is the gem +of the whole scene, and is one of the most perfect pictures of +rural beauty which pen or pencil can attempt. It appears like an +assemblage of every rural charm in a few acres, in whose disposal +nature has done much, and art but little. Park, lawn, woody walk, +slope, wilderness and dell are among its varieties; and its quiet +is only broken by the sluggish stream of the Mole. Adjoining is a +little inn, more like one of the picturesque <i>auberges</i> of the +continent than an English house of cheer. The grounds are +ornamented with rustic alcoves, boscages, and a bowery walk, all in +good taste. Here hundreds of tourists pass a portion of "the +season," as in a "loop-hole of retreat." In the front of the inn, +however, the stream of life glides fast; and a little past it, the +road crosses the Mole by Burford Bridge, and winds with geometrical +accuracy through the whole of this hasty sketch.</p> +<h4>PHILO.</h4> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>NOTES OF A READER</h2> +<h3>THE UNIVERSAL PRAYER AND OTHER POEMS.</h3> +<p>We usually leave criticism to the <i>grey-beards</i>, or such as +have passed the <i>viginti annorum lucubrationes</i> of reviewing. +It kindles so many little heart-burnings and jealousies, that we +rejoice it is not part of our duty. To be sure, we sometimes take +up a book in real earnest, read it through, and have <i>our say</i> +upon its merits; but this is only a gratuitous and occasional +freak, just to keep up our oracular consequence. In the present +case, we do not feel disposed to exercise this privilege, further +than in a very few words—merely to say that Mr. Robert +Montgomery has published a volume of Poems under the above +title—that the poems are of unequal merit, and that like +Virgil, his excellence lies in describing scenes of darkness.</p> +<p>The "Universal Prayer" is a devotional outpouring of a truly +poetical soul, with as much new imagery as the subject would admit; +and if <i>scriptural</i> poems be estimated in the ratio of +<i>scriptural</i> sermons, the merit of the former is of the first +order.<a id="footnotetag2" name="footnotetag2"></a><a href= +"#footnote2"><sup>2</sup></a></p> +<p>From the other poems we have detached the following beautiful +specimens:—</p> +<p>CONSUMPTION.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>With step as noiseless as the summer air,</p> +<p>Who comes in beautiful decay?—her eyes</p> +<p>Dissolving with a feverish glow of light,</p> +<p>Her nostrils delicately closed, and on</p> +<p>Her cheek a rosy tint, as if the tip</p> +<p>Of Beauty's finger faintly press'd it there,—</p> +<p>Alas! Consumption is her name.</p> +<p>Thou loved and loving one!</p> +<p>From the dark languish of thy liquid eye,</p> +<p>So exquisitely rounded, darts a ray</p> +<p>Of truth, prophetic of thine early doom;</p> +<p>And on thy placid cheek there is a print</p> +<p>Of death,—the beauty of consumption there.</p> +<p>Few note that fatal bloom; for bless'd by all,</p> +<p>Thou movest through thy noiseless sphere, the life,</p> +<p>Of one,—the darling of a thousand hearts.</p> +<p>Yet in the chamber, o'er some graceful task</p> +<p>When delicately bending, oft unseen,</p> +<p>Thy mother marks then with that musing glance</p> +<p>That looks through cunning time, and sees thee stretch'd</p> +<p>A shade of being, shrouded for the tomb.</p> +<p>The Day is come, led gently on by Death;</p> +<p>With pillow'd head all gracefully reclined,</p> +<p>And grape-like curls in languid clusters wreath'd,</p> +<p>Within a cottage room she sits to die;</p> +<p>Where from the window, in a western view,</p> +<p>Majestic ocean rolls.—A summer eve</p> +<p>Shines o'er the earth, and all the glowing air</p> +<p>Stirs faintly, like a pulse; against the shore</p> +<p>The waves unrol them with luxurious joy,</p> +<p>While o'er the midway deep she looks, where like</p> +<p>A sea god glares the everlasting Sun</p> +<p>O'er troops of billows marching in his beam!—</p> +<p>From earth to heaven, from heaven to earth, her eyes</p> +<p>Are lifted, bright with wonder and with awe,</p> +<p>Till through each vein reanimation rolls!</p> +<p>'Tis past; and now her filmy glance is fix'd</p> +<p>Upon the heavens, as though her spirit gazed</p> +<p>On that immortal world, to which 'tis bound:</p> +<p>The sun hath sunk.—her soul hath fled without</p> +<p>A pang, and left her lovely in her death,</p> +<p>And beautiful as an embodied dream.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>MORTALITY.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>All that we love and feel on Nature's face,</p> +<p>Bear dim relations to our common doom.</p> +<p>The clouds that blush, and die a beamy death,</p> +<p>Or weep themselves away in rain,—the streams</p> +<p>That flow along in dying music,—leaves</p> +<p>That fade, and drop into the frosty arms</p> +<p>Of Winter, there to mingle with dead flowers,—</p> +<p>Are all prophetic of our own decay.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>BEAUTY</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>How oft, as unregarded on a throng</p> +<p>Of lovely creatures, in whose liquid eyes</p> +<p>The heart-warm feelings bathe, I've look'd</p> +<p>With all a Poet's passion, and have wish'd</p> +<p>That years might never pluck their graceful smiles—</p> +<p>How often Death, as with a viewless wand,</p> +<p>Has touch'd the scene, and witch'd it to a tomb!</p> +<p>Where Beauty dwindled to a ghastly wreck,</p> +<p>And spirits of the Future seem'd to cry,—</p> +<p>Thus will it be when Time has wreak'd revenge.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>MELANCHOLY.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>When mantled with the melancholy glow</p> +<p>Of eve, she wander'd oft: and when the wind,</p> +<p>Like a stray infant down autumnal dales</p> +<p>Roam'd wailingly, she loved to mourn and muse:</p> +<p>To commune with the lonely orphan flowers,</p> +<p>And through sweet Nature's ruin trace her own.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>VISION OF HEAVEN.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>An empyrean infinitely vast</p> +<p>And irridescent, roof'd with rainbows, whose</p> +<p>Transparent gleams like water-shadows shone,</p> +<p>Before me lay: Beneath this dazzling vault—</p> +<p>I felt, but cannot paint the splendour there!</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page266" name="page266"></a>[pg +266]</span> +<p>Glory, beyond the wonder of the heart</p> +<p>To dream, around interminably blazed.</p> +<p>A spread of fields more beautiful than skies</p> +<p>Flush'd with the flowery radiance of the west;</p> +<p>Valleys in greenest glory, deck'd with trees</p> +<p>That trembled music to the ambrosial airs</p> +<p>That chanted round them,—vein'd with glossy streams,</p> +<p>That gush'd, like feelings from a raptured soul:</p> +<p>Such was the scenery;—with garden walks,</p> +<p>Delight of angels and the blest, where flowers</p> +<p>Perennial bloom, and leaping fountains breathe,</p> +<p>Like melted gems, a gleaming mist around!</p> +<p>Here fruits for ever ripe, on radiant boughs,</p> +<p>Droop temptingly; here all that eye and heart</p> +<p>Enrapts, in pure perfection is enjoy'd;</p> +<p>And here o'er flowing paths with agate paved,</p> +<p>Immortal Shapes meander and commune.</p> +<p>While with permissive gaze I glanced the scene,</p> +<p>A whelming tide of rich-toned music roll'd,</p> +<p>Waking delicious echoes, as it wound</p> +<p>From Melody's divinest fount! All heaven</p> +<p>Glow'd bright, as, like a viewless river, swell'd</p> +<p>The deepening music!—Silence came again!</p> +<p>And where I gazed, a shrine of cloudy fire</p> +<p>Flamed redly awful; round it Thunder walk'd,</p> +<p>And from it Lightning look'd out most sublime!</p> +<p>Here throned in unimaginable bliss</p> +<p>And glory, sits The One Eternal Power,</p> +<p>Creator, Lord, and Life of All: Again,</p> +<p>Stillness ethereal reign'd, and forth appear'd</p> +<p>Elysian creatures robed in fleecy light,</p> +<p>Together flocking from celestial haunts,</p> +<p>And mansions of purpureal mould; the Host</p> +<p>Of heaven assembled to adore with harp</p> +<p>And hymn, the First and Last, the Living God;</p> +<p>They knelt,—a universal choir, and glow'd</p> +<p>More beauteous while they breathed the chant divine,</p> +<p>And Hallelujah! Hallelujah! peal'd,</p> +<p>And thrill'd the concave with harmonious joy.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>VISION OF HELL.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Apart, upon a throne of living fire</p> +<p>The Fiend was seated; in his eye there shone</p> +<p>The look that dared Omnipotence; the light</p> +<p>Of sateless vengeance, and sublime despair.—</p> +<p>He sat amid a burning world, and saw</p> +<p>Tormented myriads, whose blaspheming shrieks</p> +<p>Were mingled with the howl of hidden floods,</p> +<p>And Acherontine groans; of all the host,</p> +<p>The only dauntless he. As o'er the wild</p> +<p>He glanced, the pride of agony endured</p> +<p>Awoke, and writhed through all his giant frame,</p> +<p>That redden'd, and dilated, like a sun!</p> +<p>Till moved by some remember'd bliss, or joy</p> +<p>Of paradisal hours, or to supply</p> +<p>The cravings of infernal wrath,—he bade</p> +<p>The roar of Hell be hush'd,—and silence was!</p> +<p>He called the cursed,—and they flash'd from cave</p> +<p>And wild—from dungeon and from den they came,</p> +<p>And stood an unimaginable mass</p> +<p>Of spirits, agonized with burning pangs:</p> +<p>In silence stood they, while the Demon gazed</p> +<p>On all, and communed with departed Time,</p> +<p>From whence his vengeance such a harvest reap'd.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>BEAUTIFUL INFLUENCES.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Who hath not felt the magic of a voice,—</p> +<p>Its spirit haunt him in romantic hours?</p> +<p>Who hath not heard from Melody's own lips</p> +<p>Sounds that become a music to his mind?—</p> +<p>Music is heaven! and in the festive dome,</p> +<p>When throbs the lyre, as if instinct with life,</p> +<p>And some sweet mouth is full of song,—how soon</p> +<p>A rapture flows from eye to eye, from heart</p> +<p>To heart—while floating from the past, the forms</p> +<p>We love are recreated, and the smile</p> +<p>That lights the cheek is mirror'd on the heart!</p> +<p>So beautiful the influence of sound,</p> +<p>There is a sweetness in the homely chime</p> +<p>Of village bells: I love to hear them roll</p> +<p>Upon the breeze; like voices from the dead,</p> +<p>They seem to hail us from a viewless world.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<h3>PERSECUTION OF THE JEWS.</h3> +<p>We know it to be a fact, that a Jew, an artist of reputation, +who had conceived a great confidence in a Christian engaged in the +promotion of the conversion of the Israelites, revealed to him, +that both he and his brother had been Christians from their +childhood from having been bred up amongst Christians, but were too +indignant at the treatment which they and their brethren met with +at Christian hands, to profess Christianity; and he earnestly +pleaded, as essential to their being induced to receive the gospel, +that those who participate in the attempt should approach them with +a language of decided affection for Israel.—<i>Q. +Rev.</i></p> +<hr /> +<h3>ABSENTEES</h3> +<p>Soon become detached from all habitual employments and duties; +the salutary feeling of home is lost; early friendships are +dissevered, and life becomes a vague and restless state, freed, it +may seem, from many ties, but yet more destitute of the better and +purer pleasures of existence.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>ITINERANT OPERAS.</h3> +<p>The first performance of the <i>opera seria</i> at Rome, in +1606, consisted of scenes in recitative and airs, exhibited in a +<i>cart</i> during the carnival.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>THE GAMUT.</h3> +<p>Guido D'Arezzo, a monk of the 13th century, in the solitude of +his convent, made the grand discovery of counterpoint, or the +science of harmony, as distinguished from melody; he also invented +the present system of notation, and gave those names to the sounds +of the diatonic scale still in use:—<i>ut, re, mi, fa, sol, +la, si</i>; these being the first syllables of the first six lines +of a hymn to St. John the Baptist, written in monkish Latin; and +they seem to have been adopted without any special reason, from the +caprice of the musician.—<i>Foreign Rev.</i></p> +<hr /> +<p>It is said that the first church was erected at Glastonbury; and +this tradition may seem to deserve credit, because it was not +contradicted in those ages when other churches would have found it +profitable to advance a similar pretension. The building is +described as a rude structure of wicker-work, like the dwellings of +the people in those days, and differing from them only in its +dimensions, which were threescore feet in length, and twenty-six in +breadth. An abbey was afterwards erected there, one of the finest +of those edifices, and one of the most remarkable for the many +interesting circumstances connected with it. The destruction of +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page267" name="page267"></a>[pg +267]</span> this beautiful and venerable fabric is one of the +crimes by which our reformation was +sullied.—<i>Southey</i>.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>GHOST STORY, BY M.G. LEWIS.</h3> +<p>A gentleman journeying towards the house of a friend, who lived +on the skirts of an extensive forest, in the east of Germany, lost +his way. He wandered for some time among the trees, when he saw a +light at a distance. On approaching it he was surprised to observe +that it proceeded from the interior of a ruined monastery. Before +he knocked at the gate he thought it proper to look through the +window. He saw a number of cats assembled round a small grave, four +of whom were at that moment letting down a coffin with a crown upon +it. The gentleman startled at this unusual sight, and, imagining +that he had arrived at the retreats of fiends or witches, mounted +his horse and rode away with the utmost precipitation. He arrived +at his friend's house at a late hour, who sat up waiting for him. +On his arrival his friend questioned him as to the cause of the +traces of agitation visible in his face. He began to recount his +adventures after much hesitation, knowing that it was scarcely +possible that his friend should give faith to his relation. No +sooner had he mentioned the coffin with the crown upon it, than his +friend's cat, who seemed to have been lying asleep before the fire, +leaped up, crying out, "Then I am king of the cats;" and then +scrambled up the chimney, and was never seen more.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>RIDICULOUS MISTAKE.</h3> +<p>A quantity of Worcestershire china being sent to the +<i>Nawaab</i> at Lucknow, in India, from England, he was as +impatient to open it as a child would be with a new plaything; and +immediately gave orders for invitations to be sent to the whole +settlement for a breakfast, <i>à la fourchette</i>, next +morning. Tables were accordingly spread for upwards of a hundred +persons, including his ministers and officers of state. Nothing +could be more splendid than the general appearance of this +entertainment; but the dismay may be more easily imagined than +described, on discovering that the servants had mistaken certain +utensils for milk-bowls, and had actually placed about twenty of +them, filled with that beverage, along the centre of the table. The +consequence was, the English part of the company declined taking +any; upon which the <i>Nawaab</i> innocently remarked, "I thought +that the English were fond of milk." Some of them had much +difficulty to keep their countenances.</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS</h2> +<h3>ENGLISH COUNTRY LIFE.</h3> +<p>The country seats of England form, indeed, one of the most +remarkable features, not only in English landscape, but yet more in +what may be termed the genius and economy of English manners. Their +great number throughout the country, the varied grandeur and beauty +of their parks and gardens, the extent, magnificence, and various +architecture of the houses, the luxurious comfort and completeness +of their internal arrangements, and their relation generally to the +character of the peasantry surrounding them, justify fully the +expression we have used. No where has this mode of life attained so +high a degree of perfection and refinement. We will allude to two +circumstances, amongst many others, in illustration. The first of +these is, the very great number of valuable libraries belonging to +our family seats. It has been sometimes remarked as singular, that +England should possess so few great public libraries, while a +poorer country, like Germany, can boast of its numerous and vast +collections at Vienna, Prague, Munich, Stutgard, Goettingen, +Wolfenbuttel, &c. The fact is partly explained by the many +political divisions and capitals, and by the number of universities +in Germany. But a further explanation may be found in the +innumerable private libraries dispersed throughout +England—many of them equal to public ones in extent and +value, and most of them well furnished in classics, and in English +and French literature.</p> +<p>The other peculiarity we would name about our English +country-houses is, that they do not insulate their residents from +the society and business of active life; which insulation is +probably a cause, why so many proprietors in other countries pass +their whole time in the metropolis or larger towns. The facility +and speed of communication in England link together all places, +however remote, and all interests, political and social, of the +community. The <span class="pagenum"><a id="page268" name= +"page268"></a>[pg 268]</span> country gentleman, sitting at his +breakfast table a hundred miles from London, receives the +newspapers printed there the night before; his books come to him +still damp from the press; and the debates in parliament travel to +every country-house in England within fifty or sixty hours of the +time when they have taken place. The like facility exists as to +provincial interests of every kind. The nobleman or country +gentleman is a public functionary within his district, and no man +residing on his estates is, or need feel himself, unimportant to +the community. <i>Quarterly Rev.</i></p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>FLOWERS.</h2> +<p>When summer's delightful season arrives, rarely in this country +too warm to be enjoyed throughout the day in the open air, there is +nothing more grateful than a profusion of choice flowers around and +within our dwellings. The humblest apartments ornamented with these +beautiful productions of nature have, in my view, a more delightful +effect than the proudest saloons with gilded ceilings and hangings +of Genoa velvet. The richness of the latter, indeed, would be +heightened, and their elegance increased, by the judicious +introduction of flowers and foliage into them. The odour of +flowers, the cool appearance of the dark green leaves of some +species, and the beautiful tints and varied forms of others, are +singularly grateful to the sight, and refreshing at the same time. +Vases of Etruscan mould, containing plants of the commonest kind, +offer those lines of beauty which the eye delights in following; +and variform leaves hanging festooned over them, and shading them +if they be of a light colour, with a soft grateful hue, add much to +their pleasing effect. These decorations are simple and cheap.</p> +<p>Lord Bacon, whose magnificence of mind exempts him from every +objection as a model for the rest of mankind, (in all but the +unfortunate error to which, perhaps, his sordid pursuit in life led +him, to the degradation of his nobler intellect), was +enthusiastically attached to flowers, and kept a succession of them +about him in his study and at his table. Now the union of books and +flowers is more particularly agreeable. Nothing, in my view, is +half so delightful as a library set off with these beautiful +productions of the earth during summer, or indeed, any other season +of the year. A library or study, opening on green turf, and having +the view of a distant rugged country, with a peep at the ocean +between hills, a small fertile space forming the nearest ground, +and an easy chair and books, is just as much of local enjoyment as +a thinking man can desire—I reck not if under a thatched or +slated roof, to me it is the same thing. A favourite author on my +table, in the midst of my bouquets, and I speedily forget how the +rest of the world wags. I fancy I am enjoying nature and art +together, a consummation of luxury that never palls upon the +appetite—a dessert of uncloying sweets.</p> +<p>Madame Roland seems to have felt very strongly the union of +mental pleasure with that afforded to the senses by flowers. She +somewhere says, "La vûe d'une fleur carresse mon imagination +et flatte mes sens à un point inexprimable; elle +réveille avec volupté le sentiment de mon existence. +Sous le tranquil abri du toit paternel, j'étois heureuse des +enfance avec des fleurs et des livres; dans l'étroite +enciente d'une prison, au milieu des fers imposés par la +tyrannie la plus revoltante, j'oublie l'injustice des hommes, leurs +sottises, et mes maux, avec des livres et des fleurs." These +pleasures, however, are too simple to be universally felt.</p> +<p>There is something delightful in the use which the eastern +poets, particularly the Persian, make of flowers in their poetry. +Their allusions are not casual, and in the way of metaphor and +simile only; they seem really to hold them in high admiration. I am +not aware that the flowers of Persia, except the rose, are more +beautiful or more various than those of other countries. Perhaps +England, including her gardens, green-houses, and fields, having +introduced a vast variety from every climate, may exhibit a list +unrivalled, as a whole, in odour and beauty. Yet flowers are not +with us held in such high estimation as among the Orientals, if we +are to judge from their poets.</p> +<p>Bowers of roses and flowers are perpetually alluded to in the +writings of eastern poets. The Turks, and indeed the Orientals in +general, have few images of voluptuousness without the richest +flowers contributing towards them. The noblest palaces, where +gilding, damask, and fine carpeting abound, would be essentially +wanting in luxury without flowers. It cannot be from their odour +alone that they are thus identified with pleasure; it is from their +union of exquisite hues, fragrance, and beautiful forms, that they +raise a sentiment of voluptuousness, in the mind; for whatever +unites these qualities can scarcely do otherwise.</p> +<p>Whoever virtuously despises the opinion that simple and cheap +pleasures, not only good, but in the very best taste, are of no +value because they want a meretricious rarity, will fill their +apartments with a succession of our better garden flowers. It has +been said that flowers placed in bedrooms are not wholesome. This +cannot be meant of such as are in a state of vegetation. Plucked +and put into water, they quickly decay, and doubtless, give out a +putrescent air; when alive and growing, there need not be any +danger apprehended from them, provided fresh air is frequently +introduced. For <span class="pagenum"><a id="page269" name= +"page269"></a>[pg 269]</span> spacious rooms, the better kinds, +during warm weather, are those which have a large leaf and bossy +flower. Large leaves have a very agreeable effect on the senses; +their rich green is grateful to the sight; of this kind, the +Hydrangaea is remarkably well adapted for apartments, but it +requires plenty of water. Those who have a greenhouse connected +with their dwellings, have the convenience, by management, of +changing their plants as the flowers decay; those who have not, and +yet have space to afford them light and occasionally air, may rear +most of those kinds under their own roof, which may be applied for +ornament in summer. Vases of plaster, modelled from the antique, +may be stained any colour most agreeable to the fancy, and fitted +with tin cases to contain the earthen pots of flowers, to prevent +the damp from acting on them, will look exceedingly well.</p> +<p>The infinite variety of roses, including the Guelder Rose; the +Rhododendron, and other plants of similar growth, are fitted for +the saloon, but they please best in the library. They should be +intermingled with the bookcases, and stands filled with them should +be placed wherever practicable. They are a wonderful relief to the +student. There is always about them a something that infuses a +sensation of placid joy, cheering and refreshing. Perhaps they were +first introduced at festivals, in consequence of their possessing +this quality. A flower garden is the scene of pleasurable feelings +of innocence and elegance. The introduction of flowers into our +rooms infuses the same sensations, but intermingles them more with +our domestic comforts; so that we feel, as it were, in closer +contact with them. The succession might be kept up for the greater +part of the year; and even in winter, evergreens will supply their +places, and, in some respects, contrast well with the season. Many +fail in preserving the beauty of plants in their apartments, +because they do not give them sufficient light. Some species do +well with much less light than others. Light is as necessary to +them as air. They should not be too often shifted from one place to +another. Those who will take the trouble, may quicken the growth of +some plants, so as to have spring flowers in winter. Thus Autumn +and Spring might be connected; and flowers blooming in the Winter +of our gloomy climate possess double attraction.</p> +<p>In the flower garden alcove, books are doubly grateful. As in +the library ornamented with flowers they seem to be more enjoyed, +so their union there is irresistibly attracting. To enjoy reading +under such circumstances most, works of imagination are preferable +to abstract subjects. Poetry and romance—"De Vere" and +"Pelham"—lighter history—the lively letters of the +French school, like those of Sevigné and others—or +natural history—these are best adapted to peruse amidst +sweets and flowers: in short, any species of writing that does not +keep the mind too intently fixed to allow the senses to wander +occasionally over the scene around, and catch the beauty of the +rich vegetation. To me the enjoyment derived from the union of +books and flowers is of the very highest value among pleasurable +sensations.</p> +<p>For my own part, I manage very well without the advantage of a +greenhouse. The evergreens serve me in winter. Then the Lilacs come +in, followed by the Guelder Rose and Woodbine, the latter trained +in a pot upon circular trellis-work. After this there can be no +difficulty in choosing, as the open air offers every variety. I +arrange all my library and parlour-plants in a room in my +dwelling-house facing the south, having a full portion of light, +and a fireplace. I promote the growth of my flowers for the early +part of the year by steam-warmth, and having large tubs and boxes +of earth, I am at no loss, in my humble conservatory, for flowers +of many kinds when our climate offers none. The trouble attending +them is all my own, and is one of those employments which never +appear laborious. Those who have better conveniences may proceed on +a larger scale; but I contrive to keep up a due succession, which +to a floral epicure is every thing. To be a day in the year without +seeing a flower is a novelty to me, and I am persuaded much more +might be done with my humble means than I have effected, had I +sufficient leisure to attend to the retarding or forcing them. I +cover every space in my sitting-room with these beautiful fairy +things of creation, and take so much delight in the sight of them, +that I cannot help recommending those of limited incomes, like +myself, to follow my example and be their own nurserymen. The rich +might easily obtain them without; but what they procure by gold, +the individual of small means must obtain by industry. I know there +are persons to whom the flowers of Paradise would be objects of +indifference; but who can imitate, or envy such? They are +grovellers, whose coarseness of taste is only fitted for the +grossest food of life. The pleasures "des Fleurs et des Livres" +are, as Henry IV. observed of his child, "the property of all the +world."</p> +<h4><i>New Monthly Magazine.</i></h4> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page270" name="page270"></a>[pg +270]</span> +<h3>PRINCIPLES OF BLACKWOOD'S MAGAZINE.</h3> +<p><i>Shepherd</i>. (<i>Standing up</i>.) It's on principles like +these—boldly and unblushingly avoo'd here—in Mr. +Awmrose's paper-parlour, at the conclusion o' the sixth brodd, on +the evening o' Monday the 22nd o' September, Anno Domini aughteen +hunder and twunty-aught, within twa hours o' midnicht—that +you, sir, have been yeditin' a Maggasin that has gone out to the +uttermost corners o' the yerth, wherever civilization or +uncivilization is known, deludin' and distracktin' men and women +folk, till it's impossible for them to ken their right hand frae +their left—or whether they're standin' on their heels or +their heads—or what byeuk ought to be perused, and what byeuk +puttin intil the bottom o' pye-dishes, and trunks—or what +awthor hissed, or what awthor hurraa'd—or what's flummery and +what's philosophy—or what's rant and what's religion—or +what's monopoly and what's free tredd—or wha's poets or wha's +but Pats—or whether it's best to be drunk, or whether it's +best to be sober a' hours o' the day and nicht—or if there +should be rich church establishments as in England, or poor kirk +ones as in Scotland—or whether the Bishop o' Canterbury, wi' +twenty thousan' a-year, is mair like a primitive Christian than the +Minister o' Kirkintulloch wi' twa hunder and fifty—or if folk +should aye be readin' sermons or fishin' for sawmon—or if +it's best to marry or best to burn—or if the national debt +hangs like a millstone round the neck o' the kintra or like a chain +o' blae-berries—or if the Millennium be really close at +haun'—or the present Solar System be calculated to last to a' +eternity—or whether the people should be edicated up to the +highest pitch o' perfection, or preferably to be all like trotters +through the Bog o' Allen—or whether the government should +subsedeeze foreign powers, or spend a' its sillar on +oursells—or whether the Blacks and the Catholics should be +emancipawted or no afore the demolition o' Priests and +Obis—or whether (God forgie us baith for the hypothesis) man +has a mortal or an immortal sowl—be a Phoenix—or an +Eister!—<i>From the Noctes</i>.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>CURSES OF ABSENTEEISM.</h3> +<p>What is the condition of the country-seat of the absentee +proprietor? The mansion-house deserted and closed; the approaches +to it ragged and grass grown; the chimneys, "those windpipes of +good hospitality," as an old English poet calls them, giving no +token of the cheerful fire within; the gardens running to waste, +or, perchance, made a source of menial profit; the old family +servants dismissed, and some rude bailiff, or country attorney, +ruling paramount in the place. The surrounding cottagers, who have +derived their support from the vicinage, deprived of this, pass +into destitution and wretchedness; either abandoning their homes, +throwing themselves upon parish relief, or seeking provision by +means yet more desperate. The farming tenantry, though less +immediately dependent, yet all partake, more or less, in the evil. +The charities and hospitalities which belong to such a mansion lie +dormant; the clergyman is no longer supported and aided in his +important duties; the family pew in the church is closed; and the +village churchyard ceases to be a place of pleasant meeting, where +the peasant's heart is gladdened by the kindly notice of his +landlord.</p> +<p>It is the struggle against retrenchment, the "paupertatis pudor +et fuga," which has caused hundreds of English families, of +property and consideration, to desert their family places, and to +pass year after year in residence abroad. At the close of each +London season, the question too often occurs as to the best mode of +evading return to the country; and the sun of summer, instead of +calling back the landlord to his tenants, and to the harvests of +his own lands, sends him forth to the meagre adventures of +continental roads and inns.—<i>Quarterly Rev.</i></p> +<hr /> +<h3>SOLILOQUY.</h3> +<h3>THE KING OF DARKNESS.</h3> +<h3><i>On the Fallen Angels.</i></h3> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>They're gone to ply their ineffectual labour,—</p> +<p>To sow in guilt what they must reap in woe,—</p> +<p>Heaping upon themselves more deep damnation.</p> +<p>Thus would I have it.—Little once I thought,</p> +<p>When leagued with me in crime and punishment</p> +<p>They fell,—condemned to an eternity</p> +<p>Of exile from all joy and holiness—</p> +<p>And the first stains of sinfulness and sorrow</p> +<p>Fell blight-like o'er their cherub lineaments—</p> +<p>Myself the cause—Albeit too proud for tears,</p> +<p>Yet touch'd with their sad doom, I little thought</p> +<p>I e'er should hate them thus.—Yet thus I hate them,</p> +<p>With all that bitter agony of soul</p> +<p>Which is the punishment of fiends. Alas!</p> +<p>It was my high ambition, to hold sway,</p> +<p>Sole, paramount, unquestion'd, o'er a third</p> +<p>Of Heaven's resplendent legions:—Power and glory</p> +<p>Dwelt on them, like an elemental essence</p> +<p>That could not be destroyed.—I could not deem</p> +<p>That aught could so extinguish the pure fire</p> +<p>Of their sun-like beauty—yet 'tis changed!—</p> +<p>I gain'd them to my wish, and they are grown</p> +<p>Too hateful to be look'd on.—Thus I've seen</p> +<p>The frail fair dupe of amorous perfidy,</p> +<p>The victim of a smile,—by man beguiled—</p> +<p>Won to debasement, and then left in loathing:—</p> +<p>Alas! I cannot leave my fatal conquest!—</p> +<p>Man! would I were the humblest mortal wretch,</p> +<p>That crawls beneath yon shadowing temple's tower,</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page271" name="page271"></a>[pg +271]</span> +<p>Under the sky of Canaan; so I might</p> +<p>Lay down this weight of sceptred misery,</p> +<p>And fly for ever from myself and these!</p> +<p>But Pride reproves the wish; and—it is useless;</p> +<p>The unatonable deeds of ages rise</p> +<p>Like clouds between me and the throne of Grace.</p> +<p>I may not hope,—or fear,—still unsubdued,</p> +<p>As when I ruled the anarchy of Heaven,</p> +<p>I stand in Fate's despite,—firm and impassive</p> +<p>To all that Chance, and Time, and Ruin bring.</p> +<p>—In that disastrous day, when this vast world</p> +<p>Shall, like a tempest-shaken edifice,</p> +<p>Rock into giant fractures—as the sound</p> +<p>Of the Archangel's trump, upon the deep,</p> +<p>Bids fall the bonds of nature, to let forth</p> +<p>Destruction's formless fiend from world to world,</p> +<p>Trampling the stars to darkness,—Even then,</p> +<p>Like that proud Roman exile, musing o'er</p> +<p>The dust of fallen Carthage, I shall stand,</p> +<p>Myself a solemn wreck, calm and unmoved</p> +<p>Among the ruins of the works of God.</p> +<p>And my last look shall be a look of triumph</p> +<p>O'er the fallen pillars of the deep and sky;</p> +<p>The wreck of nature by my deeds prepared—</p> +<p>Deeds—which o'erpay the power of Destiny.</p> +</div> +</div> +<h4><i>Blackwood's Magazine.</i></h4> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>THE GATHERER.</h2> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"A snapper-up of unconsidered trifles."</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>SHAKSPEARE.</p> +</div> +</div> +<h3>ON A PICTURE OF HERO AND LEANDER.</h3> +<h4><i>By T. Hood</i>.</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i2">Why, Lover, why</p> +<p>Such a water-rover?</p> +<p>Would she love thee more</p> +<p>For coming <i>half seas over</i>?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i2">Why, Lady, why</p> +<p>So in love with dipping?</p> +<p>Must a lad of <i>Greece</i></p> +<p>Come all over <i>dripping</i>?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i2">Why, Cupid, why</p> +<p>Make the passage brighter?</p> +<p>Were not any boat</p> +<p>Better than a <i>lighter</i>?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i2">Why, Maiden, why</p> +<p>So intrusive standing?</p> +<p>Must thou be on the stair,</p> +<p>When he's on the <i>landing</i>?</p> +</div> +</div> +<h4><i>The Gem.</i></h4> +<hr /> +<p>On a tombstone in the churchyard of Christchurch, Hants, is the +following curious inscription, which I copied on the spot. Perhaps +some of your numerous readers can explain the same:—</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>WE WERE NOT SLAYNE BVT RAYSD</p> +<p>RAYSD NOT TO LIFE</p> +<p>BVT TO BE BVRIED TWICE</p> +<p>BY MEN OF STRIFE</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>WHAT REST COVLD'TH LIVING HAVE</p> +<p>WHEN DEAD HAD NONE</p> +<p>AGREE AMONGST YOV</p> +<p>HERE WE TEN ARE ONE</p> +<p>HEN: ROGERS DIED APRILL 17, 1641.</p> +<p class="i6">I R.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<h3>EPICURISM.</h3> +<p>Thomas a Becket gave five pounds, equivalent to seventy-five +pounds of the present money, for a dish of eels.</p> +<h4>HALBERT H.</h4> +<hr /> +<p>A famous scholar of the last century, when a boy, was +exceedingly fond of the Greek language, and after he had been a +short time at school, had acquired so much of the sound of the +language, that when at home at dinner one day his father said, +"Shall you not be glad, Harry, when you can tell me the names of +every dish on the table in Greek?" "Yes," said he; "but I think I +know what it must be." "Do you?" said the father; "what do you know +about Greek?"—"Nothing," said the boy; "but I think I can +guess from the sound of it what it would be." "Well, say then," +said the father. He quickly replied, "Shouldromoton, alphagous, +pasti-venizon." It appears the dinner consisted of a shoulder of +mutton, half a goose, and venison pasty.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>SNUFF AND TOBACCO.</h3> +<p>In the year 1797, was circulated the following proposals for +publishing by subscription, a History of Snuff and Tobacco, in Two +Volumes:—</p> +<p>Vol. 1.—To contain a description of the nose—size of +noses—a digression on Roman noses—whether long noses +are symptomatic—origin of tobacco—tobacco first +manufactured into snuff—inquiry who took the first +pinch—essay on sneezing—whether the ancients sneezed, +and at what—origin of pocket +handkerchiefs—discrimination between snuffing and taking +snuff; the former only applied to candles—parliamentary +snuff-takers—troubles in the time of Charles I. as connected +with smoking.</p> +<p>Vol. 2.—Snuff-takers in the parliamentary army—wit +at a pinch—oval snuff-boxes first used by the +roundheads—manufacture of tobacco pipes—dissertation on +pipe-clay—state of snuff during the commonwealth—the +union—Scotch snuff first introduced—found very pungent +and penetrating—accession of George II.—snuff-boxes +then made of gold and silver—George III.—Scotch snuff +first introduced at court—the queen, German snuffs in +fashion—female snuff-takers—clean tuckers, & c. +&c—Index and List of Subscribers.</p> +<h4>C.F.E.</h4> +<hr /> +<h3>THE "ILL WIND," &c.</h3> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>In debt, deserted, and forlorn,</p> +<p class="i2">A melancholy elf</p> +<p>Resolved, upon a Monday morn,</p> +<p class="i2">To go and hang himself.</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page272" name="page272"></a>[pg +272]</span> +<p>He reach'd the tree, when lo! he views</p> +<p class="i2">A pot of gold conceal'd;</p> +<p>He snatch'd it up, threw down the noose,</p> +<p class="i2">And scamper'd from the field.</p> +<p>The owner came—found out the theft,</p> +<p class="i2">And, having scratch'd his head,</p> +<p>Took up the rope the other left,</p> +<p class="i2">And hung himself, instead.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<h3>OLD COOKERY.</h3> +<p>Gastronomers will feel a natural desire to know what was +considered the "best universal sauce in the world," in the boon +days of Charles II., at least what was accounted such, by the Duke +of York, who was instructed to prepare it by the Spanish +ambassador. It consisted of parsley, and a dry toast pounded in a +mortar, with vinegar, salt, and pepper. The modern English would no +more relish his royal highness's taste in condiments than in +religion. A fashionable or cabinet dinner of the same period +consisted of "a dish of marrow-bones, a leg of mutton, a dish of +fowl, three pullets, and a dozen larks, all in a dish; a great +tart, a neat's tongue, a dish of anchovies, a dish of prawns, and +cheese." At the same period, a supper-dish, when the king supped +with his mistress, Lady Castlemaine, was "a chine of beef +roasted."</p> +<hr /> +<h3>OLD EPITAPH.</h3> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>As I was, so are ye,</p> +<p>As I am, you shall be.</p> +<p>That I had, that I gave,</p> +<p>That I gave, that I have.</p> +<p>Thus I end all my cost,</p> +<p>That I left, that I lost.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<h3>IMPROMPTU TO ——, ON HER MARRIAGE WITH MR. WILLIAM +P——.</h3> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i2">When ladies they wed,</p> +<p class="i2">It ever is said</p> +<p>That their <i>freedom</i> away they have thrown;</p> +<p class="i2">But you've not done so,</p> +<p class="i2">For we very well know</p> +<p>You will have a <i>Will</i> of your own.</p> +</div> +</div> +<h4>C.K.W.</h4> +<hr /> +<h3>PAINTERS.</h3> +<p>Lavater affirms, that no one whose person is not well formed can +become a good physiognomist. Those painters were the best whose +persons were the handsomest. Reubens, Vandyke, and Raphael +possessed three gradations of beauty, and possessed three +gradations of painting.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>ELYSIAN SOUP.</h3> +<p>The French have a soup which they call "<i>Potage a la +Camerani</i>" of which it is said "a single spoonful will lap the +palate in Elysium; and while one drop remains on the tongue, each +other sense is eclipsed by the voluptuous thrilling of the lingual +nerves!"</p> +<hr /> +<h3>A JAPANESE BEAUTY.</h3> +<p>Her face was oval, her features regular, and her little mouth, +when open, disclosed a set of shining, black lacquered teeth; her +hair was black, and rolled up in the form of a turban, without any +ornament, except a few tortoiseshell combs; she had sparkling, dark +eyes, was about the middle size, and elegantly formed; her dress +consisted of six wadded silk garments, similar to our night-gowns, +each fastened round the lower part of the waist by a separate band, +and drawn close together from the girdle downwards; they were all +of different colours, and the uppermost was black.</p> +<h4>U.</h4> +<hr /> +<h3>GOOD LIVING.</h3> +<p>I hate a fellow who was never young; he is like a dull Italian +year, where the trees are always in leaf, and when the only way of +knowing the difference of the seasons is by referring to an +almanack. The inconstancy of the spring may surely be excused for +the steady warmth of summer and the rich plenty of autumn; then +comes the hoar of winter old gentleman, and closes the scene not +ungracefully.—<i>Old Play.</i></p> +<hr /> +<p>Purchasers of the MIRROR, who may wish to complete their sets +are informed, that every volume is complete in itself, and may be +purchased separately. The whole of the numbers are now in print, +and can be procured by giving an order to any Bookseller or +Newsvender.</p> +<p>Complete sets Vol I. to XI. in boards, price £2. +19<i>s</i>. 6<i>d</i>. half bound, £3. 17<i>s</i>.</p> +<hr /> +<p><i>LIMBIRD'S EDITIONS</i></p> +<p>CHEAP and POPULAR WORKS published at the MIRROR OFFICE in the +Strand, near Somerset House.</p> +<p>The ARABIAN NIGHTS' ENTERTAINMENTS, Embellished with nearly 150 +Engravings. Price 6s. 6d. boards.</p> +<p>The TALES of the GENII. Price 2s.</p> +<p>The MICROCOSM. By the Right Hon. G. CANNING. &c. Price +2s.</p> +<p>PLUTARCH'S LIVES, with Fifty Portraits, 2 vols. price 13s. +boards.</p> +<p>COWPER'S POEMS, with 12 Engravings, price 3s. 6d. boards.</p> +<p>COOK'S VOYAGES, 2 vols. price 8s. boards.</p> +<p>The CABINET of CURIOSITIES: or, WONDERS of the WORLD DISPLAYED +Price 5s. boards.</p> +<p>BEAUTIES of SCOTT, 2 vols. price 7s. boards.</p> +<p>GOLDSMITH'S ESSAYS. Price 8d.</p> +<p>DR. FRANKLIN'S ESSAYS. Price 1s. 2d.</p> +<p>BACON'S ESSAYS Price 8d.</p> +<p>SALMAGUNDI. Price 1s. 8d.</p> +<p>The ARCANA of SCIENCE for 1828. Price 4s. 6d.</p> +<hr /> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote1" name= +"footnote1"></a> <b>Footnote 1</b>:<a href= +"#footnotetag1">(return)</a> +<p>Here is a stump of wood which denotes the grave of Major +Labelliere, a deranged officer of the Marines, who, by his own +request was buried on this spot, with his head downwards; it being +a constant assertion with him, "that the world was turned +topsy-turvy, and, therefore, at the end he should be right."</p> +<p>From this point may be seen <i>Leith Hill</i>, with an old +prospect tower, within which are interred the remains of another +eccentric gentleman who died in the neighbourhood. In the road from +Dorking thence is <i>Wotton</i>, the family seat of the +Evelyns.</p> +</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote2" name= +"footnote2"></a> <b>Footnote 2</b>:<a href= +"#footnotetag2">(return)</a> +<p>We know a reverend vicar who once took the trouble to count all +the quotations from Scripture, which occurred in a charity sermon +he had just printed: and his great satisfaction at the conclusion +was, that his was indeed "a scriptural sermon."</p> +</blockquote> +<hr class="full" /> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11336 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/11336-h/images/337-1.png b/11336-h/images/337-1.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..beeeec6 --- /dev/null +++ b/11336-h/images/337-1.png |
