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diff --git a/11342-h/11342-h.htm b/11342-h/11342-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3116b12 --- /dev/null +++ b/11342-h/11342-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1605 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction, Vol. 13, Issue 352, January 17, 1829, by Various</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;} + a:link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:visited {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:hover {color:red} + --> +/*]]>*/ +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11342 ***</div> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and +Instruction, Vol. 13, Issue 352, January 17, 1829, by Various</h1> +<br /> +<br /> +<center><b>E-text prepared by Jonathan Ingram, Allen Siddle, David King,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team</b></center> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page33" name="page33"></a>[pg +33]</span> +<h1>THE MIRROR<br /> +OF<br /> +LITERATURE, AMUSEMENT, AND INSTRUCTION.</h1> +<hr class="full" /> +<table width="100%" summary="Volume, Number, and Date"> +<tr> +<td align="left"><b>Vol. XIII. No. 352.</b></td> +<td align="center"><b>SATURDAY, JANUARY 17, 1829</b></td> +<td align="right"><b>[PRICE 2d.</b></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class="full" /> +<h3>PRINCE RUPERT'S PALACE</h3> +<div class="figure" style="width:60%;"><a href= +"images/352-1.png"><img width="100%" src="images/352-1.png" alt= +"Prince Rupert's Palace, Barbican" /></a></div> +<p>Prince Rupert, who will be remembered in the annals of the +useful and fine arts when his military fame shall be forgotten, +resided at a house in Beech-lane, Barbican, of the remains of which +the above is a representation. His residence here was in the time +of Charles II.; for it is said that Charles paid him a visit, when +the ringers of Cripplegate had a guinea for complimenting the royal +guest with a "merry peal." As the abode of a man of science, (for +the prince was one of the most ingenious men of his time,) this +engraving will doubtless be acceptable to the readers of the +MIRROR. It, moreover, shows that even at that period, a residence +in the City and its neighbourhood was not thought derogatory to a +man of rank or fortune.<a id="footnotetag1" name= +"footnotetag1"></a><a href="#footnote1"><sup>1</sup></a></p> +<p>With the historical character of Prince Rupert, most of our +readers are probably familiar. Many useful inventions resulted from +his studies, among which are the invention of "Prince's Metal," +locks for fire-arms, improvements in gunpowder, &c. After the +restoration, he was admitted into the Privy Council. He likewise +became a fellow of the newly-founded Royal Society, and a member of +the Board of Trade; and to his influence is ascribed the +establishment of the Hudson's Bay Company, of which he was the +first governor. Orford, Evelyn, and Vertue attribute to him the +invention of mezzotinto engraving; but this has been disputed, and, +we believe, disproved.</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page34" name="page34"></a>[pg +34]</span> +<h2>SOME ACCOUNT OF THE COLOSSEUM, IN THE REGENT'S PARK.</h2> +<p>By the courtesy of Mr. Hornor, the proprietor, we have been +favoured with a private view of the <i>interior</i> of this +stupendous building; and, as it is our intention to illustrate the +ensuing Number of the MIRROR with a view of the exterior, we shall +for the present confine ourselves to such descriptive details as we +have been enabled to collect in our recent visit. The interior is, +however, in an unfinished state; the works are in actual progress, +and the operations of the several artists continue uninterrupted by +the access of visiters.</p> +<p>On entering the edifice by the large door in front, a staircase +on the right leads to a passage, which communicates with a circular +saloon hung with coloured drapery. This room, which, when finished, +will be the largest of the kind in London, occupies the whole +internal space, or the basement of the building, with the exception +of the staircase leading to the summit, which rises like a large +column from the centre. This circular saloon is intended for the +exhibition of paintings and other productions of the fine arts; and +it redounds highly to the credit of Mr. Hornor, that this +exhibition is to be entirely free of charge to the artists. Such an +introduction of their works to public notice cannot fail to prove +mutually advantageous.</p> +<p>It may be here necessary to state that the wall of the building +represents a panoramic <i>View of London</i>, as seen from the +several galleries of St. Paul's Cathedral—and that the view +of the picture is obtained from three galleries—the +<i>first</i> of which corresponds, in relation to the view, with +the first gallery at the summit of the dome of St. Paul's; the +<i>second</i> is like that of the upper gallery on the same +edifice; and the <i>third</i>, from its great elevation, commands a +view of the remote distance which describes the horizon in the +painting. Above the last-mentioned gallery is placed the identical +copper ball which for so many years occupied the summit of St. +Paul's; and above it is a fac-simile of the cross by which it was +surmounted. Over these is hung the small wooden cabin in which Mr. +Hornor made his drawings for the picture, in the same perilous +situation it occupied during the period of the repairs which some +years ago were done to the cathedral. A small flight of stairs +leads from this spot to the open gallery which surrounds the top of +the Colosseum, commanding a view of the Regent's Park and the +subjacent country.</p> +<p>The communication with the galleries is by staircases of curious +construction, built on the outer side of the central column already +mentioned. This column is hollow, and within it a small circular +chamber is to be caused to ascend when freighted with company, by +means of machinery, with an imperceptible motion to the first +gallery. The doors of the chamber will then open, and by this novel +means of being elevated, visiters may avoid the fatigue of +ascending by the stairs, and then walk out into the gallery to +enjoy the picture.</p> +<p>In extent and accuracy, the Panorama is one of the most +surprising achievements of art in this or any other country. The +picture covers upwards of 40,000 square feet, or nearly an acre of +canvass; the dome of the building on which the sky is painted, is +thirty feet more in diameter than the cupola of St. Paul's; and the +circumference of the horizon from the point of view, is nearly 130 +miles. The painting is almost completed; indeed, sufficiently so, +for the general effect; although this will be considerably +increased by the insertion of the remaining details, and the last +or finishing touches. Much as the spectator will be struck by the +fidelity of the representation, there is one claim it has to his +admiration, which has only to be explained to be universally +acknowledged. It is simply this. Only let such of our readers as +have ascended the galleries of St. Paul's, think of the fatigue +they experienced in the toil, and comparatively speaking, the +little gratification they experienced on their arrival at the +summit. In short, what had they for their pains but the distinct +roofs of the houses in the immediate vicinity, while the rest of +the city was half lost in fog and the smoke of "groves of +chimneys." The only period at which London <i>can be seen</i>, is +at sun-rise on a fine summer morning—such a morning, for +instance, as that of the last Coronation. This too must be before +the many thousand fires are lighted—exactly the period at +which it is impossible to gain admittance to the cathedral. In the +Panorama of the Colosseum, therefore, alone it is that we can see +the "mighty heart," the town we inhabit; and for this grand scene +we are indebted to the indefatigable genius of Mr. Hornor.<a id= +"footnotetag2" name="footnotetag2"></a><a href= +"#footnote2"><sup>2</sup></a></p> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page35" name="page35"></a>[pg +35]</span> +<p>The magnificent effect of the Panorama, however, baffles all +description of our pen. Indeed, the scene gives rise to so many +inspiring associations in an enthusiastic mind, that few +Englishmen, and still fewer Londoners, are equal to the detail of +its description. Every inch of the vast circumference abounds with +subject for reflection. The streets filled with passengers and +vehicles—the grandeur of the public buildings, churches, and +palatial structures—the majestic river winding grandly along, +with the shipping, vessels, and gay trim of civic barges gliding on +its surface, its banks studded with splendid hospitals, docks, and +antique towers—and its stream crossed with magnificent +bridges—till it stretches away beyond the busy haunts of +industry, to the rural beauties of Richmond, and the castellated +splendour of Windsor. Of course, the river is the most attractive +object in the painting; but overlooking the merits of the town +itself, and the world of streets and buildings—the +representation of the environs is delightfully picturesque, and the +distances are admirably executed; while the whole forms an +assemblage of grandeur, unparalleled in art, as the reality is in +the history of mankind.</p> +<p>The grand and distinguishing merit of the Panorama at the +Colosseum is, however, of a higher order than we have yet pointed +out to the reader. It has the <i>unusual</i> interest of +picturesque effect with the most scrupulous accuracy; and, in +illustration of the latter excellence, so plain are the principal +streets in the view, that thousands of visitors will be able to +identify their own dwellings. We have termed this an unusual +effect, because we are accustomed to view panoramas as fine +productions of art, with fascinating and novel contrasts, and +altogether as beautiful pictures; but pleasing as may be their +effect on the spectator, it must fall very short of the intense +interest created by the topographical or map-like accuracy of Mr. +Hornor's picture, which is correct even to the most minute point of +detail. Thousands of spectators will therefore become rivetted by +some particular objects, for every Londoner can name a score of +sites which are endeared to him by some grateful recollections and +associations of his life; whilst our country friends will be lost +in admiration at the immense knot of dwellings, till they contrive +to pick their road back to their inn or temporary abode in this +queen of cities. In order to court the rigorous inspection of the +most critical visiters, engraved sections of the various parts of +the picture, numbered and described, will be placed in the +compartments to which the panorama corresponds; and for still +further gratification, glasses will he placed in the gallery, by +which houses at the distance of ten or twelve miles from the city +may easily be discerned. All this amounts to microscopic painting, +or the most elaborate mosaic-work of art.</p> +<p>The effect of the near houses, or those in the immediate +vicinity of St. Paul's, is very striking; and the perspective and +effect of light and shade of the campanile towers in front of the +cathedral are admirably managed. In short, nothing can exceed the +fine contrast of the bold and broad buildings in the fore-ground +with the work of the middle, and the minuteness of the +back-ground:—</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Now to the sister hills that skirt her plain,</p> +<p>To lofty Harrow now, and now to where</p> +<p>Majestic Windsor lifts his princely brow,</p> +<p>In lovely contrast to this glorious view,</p> +<p>Calmly magnificent.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Heavens! what a goodly prospect spreads around,</p> +<p>Of hills, and dales, and woods, and lawns, and spires,</p> +<p> +————————————————-till +all</p> +<p>The stretching landscape into mist decays.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>It seems scarcely possible for painting to achieve anything +nearer to reality than has been effected in the union of the +projecting portions and the flat surface of the picture—an +effect which will be hailed with enthusiasm by the spectator. This +part is the work of Mr. Paris, "of whose talents and valuable +assistance in the execution of the painting," says a writer in the +<i>Times</i>, "the proprietor speaks in terms of generous +enthusiasm, which are well deserved, and equally honourable to both +parties." Another critical writer, in the <i>Weekly Review</i>, +likewise, pays a deserved tribute to the genius of Mr. Paris, in +his share of the painting. He says, "The spectator who shall view +this magnificent Panorama, without being previously informed of the +difficulties with which the able and indefatigable artist, Mr. E.T. +Paris, had to contend, however he may be struck with the <i>tout +ensemble</i>, will hardly be able to appreciate the merit of the +work. In the first place, as no one individual could accomplish +such an undertaking in a sufficiently short period, many artists +were necessarily employed; each of these had his own peculiar +style, and taste, and notions, which of course he would not depart +from; when each of the assistant artists, therefore, had finished +his part, it was necessary for Mr. Paris to go himself over the +whole, retouch everything, and reduce the various parts into +harmony with each other. This he has effected in the most admirable +manner, so <span class="pagenum"><a id="page36" name= +"page36"></a>[pg 36]</span> that, at present the productions of +numerous dissimilar pencils appear like the creation of one man. +Another, and perhaps still greater difficulty, was to preserve the +true perspective from so elevated and novel a point of view, and on +curved canvass; for, by the closing of the dome, that part of the +picture upon which the greatest distance was to be represented, is +in reality placed nearest to the spectator. We must observe, +however, that these difficulties have all been surmounted, and that +the illusion is most complete."</p> +<p>Our limits advise us to quit the principal building, or that +appropriated to the panoramic view, especially as we cannot convey +to the reader an indistinct notion of the curious stair-work, +machinery, and carpentry of the ascents, &c. We were induced to +ascend to the exterior, but the mid-day smoke of the town, and the +heavy fog of the day, spoiled our view. Had it not been so, the +numerous buildings below, with the gardens, &c. would have +reminded us that much yet remained to be seen. We hastened down the +staircase, as quickly as the loop-hole light would allow, (for this +part is to be lit with gas,) and returned to the front court by the +large door at which we entered. In the entrance-hall are two aloes +in tubs, one of them of noble size, and we could not help +contrasting this single triumph of Nature with the little world of +art we had just been exploring; and our train of reflection was +unbroken on our entering by the left-hand lodge-door, a range of +arched conservatories, in the centre of one of which is a +<i>Camellia Japonica</i>, which produces thirty varieties of +flower, and is, perhaps, the most magnificent specimen in England. +Already here are several rare and beautiful plants—a large +proportion of exotics, and some of the most curious plants of this +country's growth. In the centre of one of the chambers is a +circular tank of water, surrounded by small <i>jets</i>, which are +to raise their streams so as to form a round case of water, within +which are to be aquatic plants, &c. At the end of this room +aviaries are in preparation.</p> +<p>Hence we ascended into a beautiful reading-room, with French +windows and rusticated Gothic verandas. The <i>artistes</i> were +here busy in hanging the walls, &c. with green damask moreen. +The next room in the suite will be a library of beautiful +proportions; and beyond this will be another room equally splendid, +besides numerous other smaller apartments, in all numbering thirty. +The object of this part of the building is to afford to subscribers +all the advantages of a club and a reading-room, combined with the +novel and luxurious conveniences of the establishment. We now come +to what appears to us the <i>bijou</i> of the whole. A passage +leads from the saloon to a suite of small chambers, representing a +Swiss cottage. One of these rooms is finished. It is wainscotted +with coloured (knotted) wood, and carved in imitation of the +fanciful interior of the dwellings of the Swiss mountaineers. The +immense projecting chimney, its capacious corners, and the +stupendous fire-dogs, are truly characteristic charms of cottage +life; and the illusion is not a little enhanced by the prospect +from the windows, consisting of terrific rocks and caverns,<a id= +"footnotetag3" name="footnotetag3"></a><a href= +"#footnote3"><sup>3</sup></a> among which a cascade is to fall from +an immense height into a lake, which is to spread immediately +beneath the windows. The water is not yet admitted here; but from +some successful specimens of this branch of art, which we have +seen, we are induced to think the Swiss cottage and its scenery +will be very attractive. The exterior of the dwelling, with its +broad eaves, &c. is beautifully picturesque; and the interior, +supplied with a <i>suite</i> of rustic furniture, is even +sufficiently unique for the <i>recherché</i> taste of Mr. +Hope.</p> +<p>This is but an imperfect outline of the ingenious works which +are now just finishing at the Colosseum. The undertaking, as the +name imports, is one of the most gigantic enterprises for public +gratification which it has ever been our lot to witness; but great +as may be the capital already expended here, and indefatigable as +have been the exertions of the proprietor during the last seven +years, it is almost impossible that such genius should not be amply +remunerated. As a concentration of every refined amusement and +luxurious comfort which the taste of the times can dictate, the +Colosseum will doubtless be without a rival in Europe. The charms +of useful and elegant literature will here alternate with the +exquisite masterpieces of modern art—and to aid these +attractions, the pure pleasures of the garden and green-house, and +studies from the wild and wonderful of sublime nature—will be +superadded. The extent occupied by the requisite buildings, &c. +is, as we were informed, little short of five acres.</p> +<p>To conclude, the Colosseum will very shortly be opened to the +public. In the meantime, such persons as wish, may be gratified +with a private view of the works in their present state, on terms +which <span class="pagenum"><a id="page37" name="page37"></a>[pg +37]</span> have already been announced by the proprietor.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>TO ——</h3> +<h4>(<i>For the Mirror.</i>)</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Yes! tis to thee love</p> +<p>I waken the string:</p> +<p>Yes! 'tis to thee love</p> +<p>I only would sing;</p> +<p>And in thine eyes love,</p> +<p>I ask but to shine;</p> +<p>With softest affection,</p> +<p>As thou dost in mine.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Dearest and kindest,</p> +<p>I ask but to be</p> +<p>Cherished by thee love,</p> +<p>As thou art by me;</p> +<p>Then shall our moments</p> +<p>Glide sunnily o'er.</p> +<p>And blest with each other,</p> +<p>We sigh for no more.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Wife of thy bosom,</p> +<p>By thee loved alone,</p> +<p>No dearer blessing</p> +<p>This proud world can own:</p> +<p>All its attractions</p> +<p>Delighted I'll fly,</p> +<p>For thee love, to live,</p> +<p>And with thee love to die!</p> +</div> +</div> +<h4>H.</h4> +<hr /> +<h3>HIEROGLYPHICAL CHARACTERS.</h3> +<h4>(<i>For the Mirror.</i>)</h4> +<p>Hieroglyphics consist in certain symbols which are made to stand +for invisible objects, on account of some analogy which such +symbols were supposed to bear to the objects. Egypt was the country +where this sort of writing was most studied, and brought into a +regular science. In hieroglyphics was conveyed all the boasted +knowledge of their priests. According to the properties which they +ascribed to animals, they chose them to be the emblems of moral +objects. Thus ingratitude was expressed by a viper; imprudence, by +a fly; wisdom, by an ant; knowledge, by an eye; eternity, by a +circle which has neither beginning nor end; a man universally +shunned, by an eel, which they supposed to be found with no other +fish. Sometimes they joined two or more of these characters +together, as a serpent with a hawk's head, denoted nature, with God +presiding over it.</p> +<h4>INA.</h4> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>MANNERS & CUSTOMS OF ALL NATIONS.</h2> +<h3>BULL-FIGHTS AT LIMA.</h3> +<h4><i>From General Miller's Memoirs. Second edition.</i></h4> +<p>The taste for bull-fights, introduced by the early Spaniards, is +retained by their American descendants with undiminished ardour. +The announcement of an exhibition of this kind produces a state of +universal excitement. The streets are thronged, and the population +of the surrounding country, dressed in their gayest attire, add to +the multitudes of the city. The sport is conducted with an +éclat that exceeds the bull-fights in every other part of +South America, and perhaps even surpasses those of Madrid. The +death of the bull, when properly managed, creates as much interest +in the ladies of Lima, as the death of the hare to the English +huntress, or the winning horse to the titled dames at Newmarket or +Doncaster. Nor can the pugilistic <i>fancy</i> of England take a +deeper interest in the event of a prize-fight, than the gentlemen +of Lima in the scientific worrying of a bull. It is curious to +observe how various are ideas of cruelty in different countries. +The English, for instance, exclaim against the barbarity of the +bull-fight, as compared with the noble sport of cock-fighting, +badger-baiting, &c. But their enlightened horror could not +exceed the disgust shown by a young South American, who witnessed a +casual boxing-match between two boys in Hyde Park, surrounded and +encouraged, as he expressed himself, by well-dressed barbarians. It +is amusing to witness the complacency with which one nation accuses +another of cruelty, without taking a glance at customs at home. The +bulls destined for the ring are obtained principally from the woods +in the valleys of Chincha, where they are bred in a wild state. To +catch and drive them to Lima, a distance of sixty leagues, is a +matter of no inconsiderable expense. A bull is given by each +<i>gremio</i>, or incorporated trading company of the city. The +gremios vie in decorating their donation, which is bedizened with +ribbons and flowers; across its shoulders are suspended mantles +richly embroidered with the arms of the gremio to which it belongs, +all of which become the perquisite of the <i>Toreador</i> or +<i>Matador</i> who slays the bull. The price of admission is four +reals, or two shillings; but an additional charge is made for seats +in the boxes; and the managers pay a considerable tax to government +on every performance. Early in the afternoon of the day fixed upon +for a bull-fight, every street leading to the amphitheatre is +crowded with carriages, horsemen, and pedestrians. All are in the +highest state of excitement, the highest glee, and in full dress. +The business of the ring commences, about 2 p.m. by a curious sort +of prelude. A company of soldiers perform a <i>despejo</i>, or a +military pantomime. The men having <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page38" name="page38"></a>[pg 38]</span> been previously drilled +for that purpose, go through a variety of fanciful evolutions, +forming the Roman and Greek crosses, stars, and figures, so +describing a sentence, such as <i>viva la patria, viva San +Martin</i>, or the name of any other person who happens to be at +the head of the government. As a <i>finale</i>, the soldiers form a +circle, face outwards, then advance towards the boxes, preserving +their circular order, which they extend, until they approach close +enough to climb up to the benches. Every movement is made to the +sound of the drum; the effect is exceedingly good. A band of music +is likewise in attendance, and plays at intervals. The prelude +being over, six or seven toreador enter the arena on foot, dressed +in silk jackets of different colours, richly spangled or bordered +with gold or silver lace. One or two of these men, and who are +called <i>matadores</i>, are pardoned criminals, and they receive a +considerable sum for every bull they kill. About the same time +various amateurs, well mounted on steeds gaily caparisoned, +fancifully and tastefully attired, present themselves. When all is +prepared, a door is opened under the box occupied by the +municipality, and a bull rushes from a pen. At first he gazes about +as if in surprise, but is soon put upon his mettle, by the waving +of flags and the throwing of darts, crackers, and other annoyances. +The amateur cavaliers display their horsemanship and skill in +provoking and in eluding his vengeance, in order to catch the eye +of some favourite fair one, and to gain the applause of their +friends and the audience. They infuriate the animal by waving a +mantle over his head, and when pursued they do not allow their +horses to advance more than a few inches from the horns of the +angry bull. When at full speed, they make their horse revolve upon +his hind legs, and remain in readiness to make a second turn upon +the animal. This operation is several times repeated with equal +agility and boldness, and is called <i>capear</i>. The amateurs +then promenade around to acknowledge the plaudits bestowed. This +species of sparring on horseback with the bull, is practised only +in South America. Indeed in no other part of the world is the +training of the horses, or the dexterity of the horseman, equal to +the performance of such exploits. Effigies made of skin and filled +with wind, and others made of straw, in which are live birds, are +placed in the arena. The bull tosses them in the air, but being +made heavy at the base, they come to the ground always retaining an +upright posture. The straw figures are furnished with fire-works, +which are made to take fire when the birds escape from within, and +it sometimes happens that the bull has the flaming and cracking +figure upon his horns. Sometimes the bull is maddened by fire-works +being fastened on him, which go off in succession. The crackers +being expended, the animal usually stands gazing around with +rolling tongue, panting sides, and eyes sparkling with rage. He is +then faced by the principal matador, who holds a straight sword in +one hand and a flag in the other; as the bull runs at him with full +speed, the matador coolly, but with great celerity, takes one step +to the left, holding the flag just over the spot he occupied when +the bull took aim. Being foiled, the bull wheels round, and charges +his tormentor a second time, who again skilfully eludes being +caught on the horns: this is repeated about three times, to the +great delight of the audience. At length the matador assumes a sort +of fencing attitude, and at the critical moment, plunges his sword +into the bull's neck, near to its shoulders, when it falls dead at +his feet. Handkerchiefs are waved, and applauding shouts resound +from every side. Four horses richly harnessed then appear. The dead +bull is quickly fixed to traces, and dragged out at a gallop, +cheered by continued acclamations.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Four steeds that spurn the rein, as swift as shy,</p> +<p>Hurl the dark bulk along, scarce seen in dashing by."</p> +<p><span style="margin-left:3em">BYRON.</span></p> +</div> +</div> +<p>Other bulls are killed in the same way by successive matadores. +One is generally despatched by means of a long knife grasped by the +matador, so that when his arm is extended, the blade is +perpendicular to the wrist. The bull being worried for a time, the +matador, instead of receiving him on the point of a sword as +before, steps one pace aside as the bull runs at him, and adroitly +plunges the knife into the spinal marrow behind the horns, and the +animal drops dead instantaneously. Another bull is next attacked by +mounted picadores, armed with lances. Their legs are protected by +padding. Their horses are of little value, and cannot easily get +out of the way of the bull. Neither do the riders often attempt it; +to do so being considered cowardly. The consequence is, the horses +generally receive a mortal gore; part of their entrails are +frequently torn out, and exhibit a most disgusting spectacle. The +riders run considerable risk, for their lances are inadequate to +killing the bull, which after being gored and mangled, is finally +despatched by a matador.</p> +<p>The next bull, as he sallies from the <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page39" name="page39"></a>[pg 39]</span> pen, is +encountered by six or eight Indians with short lances, who kneel +down like the front rank of a battalion to receive a cavalry +charge. One or two Indians are usually tossed; the others follow up +the bull, and when he turns upon them, they drop on one knee and +receive him as before. They are seldom able to despatch him, and a +matador steps forward to end his sufferings. Some of the Indians +are often much hurt: they invariably make themselves half drunk +before they enter the circus, alleging that they can fight the bull +better when they see double. Again, another bull is let into the +ring for the lanzada, or trial of the lance, the handle of which is +very long and strong, fixed into a wooden socket secured to the +ground, and supported by an Indian torrero. The head of the lance +is a long blade of highly tempered steel; and made sharp as a +razor. Before the bull is permitted to leave the pen, he is +rendered furious by a variety of torments. When he has been +sufficiently maddened, the doors are thrown open, and the animal +makes a rush at the Indian, who is dressed in scarlet, and directs +the lance as he kneels on the ground. The raging bull runs at him; +but he steadily points the lance, so as to receive the bull on its +point. Such is the force with which he plunges at his opponent, +that the lance generally enters at the head, and breaking through +skull and bones, comes out at the sides or back. Finally, a bull +with tail erect, comes bellowing and bounding in, with a man +strapped on his back. The animal jumps and capers about, making +every effort to rid himself of his burthen, to the no small +amusement of the spectators. The rider at length loosens the +straps, and the bull is attacked on all sides by amateurs and +matadores on foot and on horseback. When a matador has killed a +bull, he bows to the government box, then to the municipality, and +then all around, receiving plaudits in proportion to the skill he +has shown, and the sport he has afforded. Advancing then to the box +of the municipality, he receives his reward from one of the +members, who is appointed as judge on the occasion, which consists +of a few dollars thrown into the arena. When the spectators are +particularly gratified by the performance, they also throw money +into the ring.</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>THE ANECDOTE GALLERY.</h2> +<h3>ANECDOTES OF CELEBRATED AUTHORS, FRENCH AND ITALIAN.</h3> +<p>Crebillon's manner of life was extremely singular. He slept +little, and lay very hard; he was always surrounded with about +thirty cats and dogs; and used to smoke tobacco, to keep his room +sweet against their exhalations. Being one day asked, in a large +company, which of his works he thought the best? "I don't know," +answered he, "which is my best production; but this (pointing to +his son, who was present) is certainly my worst." "It is," replied +the son, with vivacity, "because no Carthusian had a hand in it," +alluding to the report that the best passages in his father's +tragedies had been written by a Carthusian friar, who was his +friend.</p> +<p>Molieres, the celebrated French priest and mathematician, was a +very irritable man, which led him frequently into passions, of +which one was the cause of his death in 1742. In other respects he +was reckoned a very amiable character; but was apt to be so absent, +or absorbed in his studies, as to appear almost wholly insensible +to surrounding objects. His infirmity in this respect became known, +and he was accordingly made the subject of depredations. A +shoe-black once finding him profoundly absorbed in a reverie, +contrived to steal the silver buckles from his shoes, replacing +them with iron ones. At another time, while at his studies, a +villain broke into the room in which he was sitting, and demanded +his money; Molieres, without rising from his studies, or giving any +alarm, coolly showed him where it was, requesting him, as a great +favour, that he would not derange his papers.</p> +<p>Ariosto, the celebrated Italian poet, being asked why he had not +built his house in a more magnificent manner, and more suitable to +the noble descriptions which he had given of sumptuous palaces, +beautiful porticoes, and pleasant fountains, in his <i>Orlando +Furioso</i>, he replied, "that words were combined together with +less expense than stones." To such a degree was he charmed with his +own verse, and so much did he also excel in his manner of reading, +that he was always disgusted if he heard his own writings repeated +with an ill grace and accent. Accordingly, it is said, that, when +he accidentally heard a potter singing a stanza of his +<i>Orlando</i> in an incorrect and ungraceful manner, he was so +incensed, that he rushed into his shop and broke several of the +pots which were exposed to sale; when the potter expostulated with +him for this unprovoked injury, Ariosto replied, "I indeed have +broken half a dozen of your pots, which are not worth so many +halfpence, and you have spoiled a stanza of mine, which is worth a +considerable sum of gold." He <span class="pagenum"><a id="page40" +name="page40"></a>[pg 40]</span> was so attached to a plain and +frugal mode of life, that he says of himself in one of his poems, +"that he was a fit person to have lived in the world when acorns +were the food of mankind." His constitution was delicate and +infirm; and, notwithstanding his temperance and general +abstemiousness, his health was often interrupted. He bore his last +sickness with uncommon resolution and serenity; affirming, "that he +was willing to die on many accounts, and particularly because he +found that the greatest divines were of opinion that we shall know +one another in the other world;" and he observed to those who were +with him, "that many of his friends were departed, whom he desired +to visit, and that he thought every moment tedious till he gained +that happiness."</p> +<p>Dante, the celebrated Italian poet, has been described by +Boccacio, as of a middle stature, of a pensive and melancholy +expression in his countenance. He was courteous and civil, and his +way of living extremely temperate. He is said to have been a very +absent man, of which instances have been recorded; once meeting +with a book in an apothecary's, which he had been long looking for, +he opened it, and read from morning till night without being roused +from his pursuit by the distraction and tumult occasioned by a +great wedding passing through the street. For some time he roved +about Italy in an indigent and distressed condition, till he was +hospitably received by the Lord of Ravenna, his patron and +friend.</p> +<p>Paul Scarron, whose life abounds with curious features, married +Mademoiselle d'Aubignè, afterwards the celebrated Madame de +Maintenon, who was at that time only sixteen years of age. On his +marriage, the notary asked him what dowry he would settle upon his +wife? he replied, "Immortality: the names of the wives of kings die +with them, but the name of Scarron's wife shall live for ever." He +was accustomed to talk to his superiors with great freedom, and in +a very jocular style. In a dedication to the king, he thus +addressed his majesty: "I shall endeavour to persuade your majesty, +that you would do yourself no injury, were you to do me a small +favour; for in that case I should become gay. If I should become +more gay, I should write sprightly comedies; and if I should write +sprightly comedies, your majesty would be amused, and thus your +money would not be lost. All this appears so evident that I should +certainly be convinced of it, if I were as great a king as I am now +a poor unfortunate man." Scarron took pleasure in reading his works +to his friends, as he composed them; he used to call it trying +them. Segrais and another person coming to him one day, "Take a +chair," he said, "and sit down, that I may examine my Comic +Romance." When he saw them laugh very heartily, he said he was +satisfied, "my book will be well received since it makes persons of +such delicate taste laugh." He was not disappointed in his +expectations, for the Romance had a great run. In the year 1638, he +was attending the Carnival at Mons, of which he was a canon. Having +put on the dress of a savage, he was followed by a troop of boys +into a morass, where he was kept so long, that the cold penetrated +his debilitated limbs, which became contracted in such a manner, +that he used to compare his body to the shape of a Z. He died in +1660, at the age of fifty; he said to his friends who surrounded +his dying bed, "I shall never make you weep so much as I have made +you laugh." In his epitaph, made by himself, he desires, in a +mixture of the comic and the pathetic, that the passengers would +not awaken, by their noise, poor Scarron from the first good sleep +he had ever enjoyed.</p> +<h4>P.T.W.</h4> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>THE SELECTOR; AND LITERARY NOTICES OF <i>NEW WORKS.</i></h2> +<h3>LEGENDS OF THE LAKES; OR, SAYINGS AND DOINGS AT KILLARNEY.</h3> +<h4><i>By T. Crofton Croker, Esq.</i></h4> +<p>Two volumes of "tickling" legendary tales are almost too much +for our laughter-holding sides, but more especially at this merry +season—fraught with humour—and when reminiscences of +the past make up for lack of realities of the present. To "notice" +such a work is ten times more (we had almost said) trouble than to +despatch half a dozen dull books, or a dozen harmless, well-meaning +satires on human nature. But we will do our best to detach some of +the good things from Mr. Croker's volumes, although the humour of +the <i>sketches</i> which adorn them, is of too subtle a quality +for our pen or sheet to hold.</p> +<p>Mr. Croker takes for granted that when people go to see the +Lakes of Killarney, they do not intend making a very serious +business of the excursion; but rather desire, while their eyes are +pleased with romantic scenery, that their ears should be tickled by +legendary tales; and accordingly he thinks it extraordinary that no +guide-book should exist for the local traditions of Killarney. This +accounts for <span class="pagenum"><a id="page41" name= +"page41"></a>[pg 41]</span> our finding Mr. Croker on the box of +the Killarney mail coach, beside Mat. Crowley, the driver, at page +2, of his first volume. Here is no preamble about "friends pressing +the author to print—not intended for the public eye—a +mere note-book," &c.—but he begins his journey with the +first crack of the whip, and a "righte merrie" journey it is.</p> +<p>Our facetious friend soon reaches Killarney, and is introduced +to the lord high-admiral of the lakes, and then, as the newspapers +say of a pantomime, the "fun begins." Our first extract is</p> +<p>O'SULLIVAN'S PUNCH BOWL.</p> +<p>"What are we to land here for?" said I to the coxswain.</p> +<p>"Only just to show your honour O'Sullivan's cascade," was the +reply. "Here, Doolan, show the gentleman the way." Ascending a +rugged path through the wood, we soon reached the foot of the +fall.</p> +<p>"Isn't that as fine a sight as you'd meet with in a month of +Sundays," said Doolan. "Only see how the white water comes +<i>biling</i> like a pot of <i>praties</i> over the big, black +rocks, down it comes, one tumble over the other, the green trees +all the while stretching out their arms as if they wanted to stop +it. And then it makes such a <i>dickins</i> of a <i>nise</i> as it +pounces into that black pool at the bottom, that it's enough to +bother the brains of a man entirely. Why, then, isn't it a wonder +how all that water sprung up out of the mountain? for sure, isn't +there a bit of a lake above there, in the hollow of the hill that +the waterfall comes out of,—they calls it O'Sullivan's Punch +Bowl?"</p> +<p>"And, pray, who was this O'Sullivan that had such a capacious +Punch Bowl?"</p> +<p>"Och, then, 'tis he's the fine, portly looking <i>jantleman</i>, +and has a <i>vice</i> (voice) as big as twenty; 'twould do your +heart good to hear the cry of him on a stag hunt day, making the +mountain ring again."</p> +<p>"Well, Doolan, you haven't told me all this time who O'Sullivan +is."</p> +<p>"Why, then, that's the <i>quare</i> question for your honour to +be after <i>axing</i> me. Sure all the country knows O'Sullivan of +Toomies, for didn't him, and his father before him, live at the +butt end of the mountain, near the neck of the Lawn; and wasn't +they great chieftains in the <i>ould</i> times; and hadn't they a +great sketch of country to themselves: they haven't so much now, +for their hearts were too big for their <i>manes</i> (means;) and +that's the <i>rason</i> O'Sullivan was obligated to sell this part +of the mountain to Mr. Herbert of Mucruss?"</p> +<p>"A sad story this, Doolan; but it seems to me these O'Sullivans +must have been very fond of a bowl of punch, or why is the lake you +mentioned called O'Sullivan's Punch Bowl?"</p> +<p>"Oh, then, your honour's as sharp as a needle entirely; but +about that same lake it's a <i>quare</i> story sure enough. A long +time before there was a waterfall here at all, one of the <i>rale +ould</i> O'Sullivans was out all day hunting the red deer among the +mountains. Well, sir, just as he was getting quite weary, and was +wishing for a drop of the <i>cratur</i> to put him in +spirits—"</p> +<p>"Or spirits into him," said I.</p> +<p>"Oh, sure, 'tis all the same thing," returned Doolan with a +grin, intended for a smile. "'Tis all one surely, if a man can only +have the drop when he wants it. Well, what should O'Sullivan see +but the most beautiful stag that ever was seen before or since in +this world; for he was as big as a colt, and had horns upon him +like a weaver's beam, and a collar of real gold round his neck. +Away went the stag, and away went the dogs after him full cry, and +O'Sullivan after the dogs, for he was determined to have that +beautiful fine stag; and though, as I said, he was tired and weary +enough, you'd think the sight of that stag put fresh life into him. +A pretty bit of a dance he led him, for he was an enchanted stag. +Away he went entirely off by Macgillicuddy's Reeks, round by the +mountains of the Upper Lake, crossed the river by the Eagle's Nest, +and never stopped nor staid till he came to where the Punch Bowl is +now. When O'Sullivan came to the same place he was fairly ready to +drop, and for certain that was no wonder; but what vexed him more +than all was to find his dogs at fault, and the never a bit of a +stag to be seen high nor low. Well, my dear <i>sowl</i>, he didn't +know what to make of it, and seeing there was no use in staying +there, and it so late, he whistled his dogs to him, and was just +going to go home. The moon was just setting over to the top of the +mountain shedding her light, broad and bright, over the edge of the +wood and down on the lake, which was like a sheet of silver, except +where the islands threw their black shadows over the water. +O'Sullivan looked about him, and began to grow quite dismal in +himself, for sure it was a lonesome sight, and besides he had a +sort of dread upon him, though he couldn't tell the reason why. So +not liking to stay there, as I said before, he was just going to +make the best of his way home, when, who should he see, but Fuan +Mac Cool (Fingal.) standing like a big <i>joint</i> (giant) on the +top of a rock. 'Hallo, <span class="pagenum"><a id="page42" name= +"page42"></a>[pg 42]</span> O'Sullivan,' says he, 'where are you +going so fast?' says he, 'come back with me,' says he, 'I want to +have some talk with you.' You may be sure it was O'Sullivan was +amazed and a little bit frightened too, though he wouldn't +<i>pertind</i> to it; and it would be no wonder if he was; for if +O'Sullivan had a big <i>vice</i>, (voice) Fuan Mac Cool had a +bigger ten times, and it made the mountains shake again like +thunder, and all the eagles fly up to the moon. 'What do you want +with me?' says O'Sullivan, at the same time putting on as +<i>bould</i> a face as he could. 'I want to know what business you +had hunting my stag?' says Fuan, 'by the vestment,' says he, 'if +'twas any one else but yourself, O'Sullivan, I'd play the red +vengeance with him. But, as you're one of the right sort, I'll pass +it over this time; and, as my stag has led you a pretty dance over +the mountains, I'll give you a drop of good drink, O'Sullivan; only +take my advice, and never hunt my stag again.' Then Fuan Mac Cool +stamped with his foot, and all of a sudden, just in the hollow +which his foot made in the mountain, there came up a little lake, +which tumbled down the rocks, and made the waterfall. When +O'Sullivan went to take a drink of it, what should it be but +<i>rale</i> whiskey punch, and it staid the same way, running with +whiskey punch, morning, noon, and night, until the +<i>Sasenaghs</i><a id="footnotetag4" name= +"footnotetag4"></a><a href="#footnote4"><sup>4</sup></a> came into +the country, when all at once it was turned to water, though it +goes still by the name of O'Sullivan's Punch Bowl.'"</p> +<hr /> +<p>In the island, the guide importunes Mr. Croker to visit the +shelf of a rock overshadowed by yew, and called the Bed of Honour, +"because 'twas there a lord-lieutenant of Ireland would go to sleep +to cool himself after drinking plenty of whiskey punch." He is +cautioned against venturing too near the ledge of a rock, "the very +spot the poor author gentleman fell from; they called him +Hell—Hell—no, 'twasn't Hell, either, but Hal; oh, then, +what a head I have upon me—oh, I have it now—Hallam's +the name, your honour."</p> +<p>"What the author of the Middle Ages?"</p> +<p>"True for you, sir, he was a middle aged man;" "and then there +was another great writing gentleman, one Sir Walter Scott," +&c.</p> +<p>Mr. Croker chances to be confined to his hotel by the rainy +weather, and this circumstance introduces the following legend, +narrated by one of his old friends:—</p> +<p>"Well, well," said Lynch, smiling, "I'll give you the legend of +Saint Swithin exactly as it was told to me about a month +since—I have occasionally employed an industrious, poor man, +named Tom Doody, to work in my garden. 'Well, Tom,' said I to him, +'this is Swithin's day, and not a drop of rain—you see the +old saying of "forty days' rain" goes for nothing.'—'O, but +the day isn't over yet,' said Tom, 'so you'd better not halloo, +sir, till you're out of the wood. I'll go bail we'll have rain some +time of the day, and then you may be sure of it for the forty +days.'—'If that's the way, Tom,' said I, 'this same Swithin +must have been the thirstiest saint in the calendar; and it's quite +certain he must be a real Irish saint, since he's so fond of the +drop.'—'You may laugh if you please,' said Tom, resting on +his spade, 'you may laugh if you please, but it's a bad thing any +how to <i>spake</i> that way of the saints; and, sure, Saint +Swithin was a blessed priest, and the rain was a miracle sent on +his account; but may be you never heard how it came to +pass.'—'No, Tom, I did not,' said I—'Well, then, I'll +tell you,' said he, 'how it was. Saint Swithin was a priest, and a +very holy man, so holy that he went by no other name but that of +the blessed priest. He wasn't like the priests now-a-days, who ride +about on fine horses, with spectacles stuck upon their noses, and +horsewhips in their hands, and polished boots on their legs, that +fit them as <i>nate</i> as a Limerick glove (God forgive me for +<i>spaking</i> ill of the <i>clargy</i>, but some of them have no +more conscience than a pig in a <i>pratie</i> garden;') I give you +Doody's own words," said Mr. Lynch.</p> +<p>"That's exactly what I wish."</p> +<p>"And he continued—'Saint Swithin was not that kind of +priest, no such thing; for he did nothing but pray from morning to +night, so that he brought a blessing on the whole country round; +and could cure all sorts of diseases, and was so charitable that +he'd give away the shirt off his back. Then, whenever he went out, +it was quite plain and sober, on a rough little <i>mountainy +garran</i>; and he thought himself grand entirely if his big +<i>ould</i> fashioned boots got a rub of the <i>grase</i>. It was +no wonder he should be called the blessed priest, and that the +people far and near should flock to him to mass and confession; or +that they thought it a blessed thing to have him lay his hands on +their heads. It's a pity the likes of him should ever die, but +there's no help for death; and sure if he wasn't so good entirely +he'd have been left, and not be taken away as he was; for 'tis them +that are most wanting <span class="pagenum"><a id="page43" name= +"page43"></a>[pg 43]</span> the first to go. The news of his death +flew about like lightning; and there was nothing but +<i>ullagoning</i> through all the country, and they had no less +than right, for they lost a good friend the day he died. However, +from <i>ullagoning</i>, they soon came to fighting about where he +was to be buried. His own parish wouldn't part with him if they got +half Ireland, and sure they had the best right to him; but the next +parish wanted to get him by the <i>lauve laider</i> (strong hand,) +for they thought it would bring a blessing on them to have his +bones among them; so his own parishioners at last took and buried +him by night, without the others knowing any thing about it. When +the others heard it they were tearing mad, and raised a large +faction, thinking to take him up and carry him away in spite of his +parishioners; so they had a great battle upon it; but those who had +the best right to him were beat out and out, and the others were +just going to take him up, when there came all at once such rain as +was never seen before or since; it was so heavy that they were +obliged to run away half <i>drownded</i>, and give it up as a bad +job. They thought, however, that it wouldn't last long, and that +they could come again; but they were out in that, for it never +stopped raining in that manner for forty days, so they were obliged +to give it up entirely; and ever since that time there's always +more or less rain on Saint Swithin's day, and for forty days +after.'</p> +<p>"Just as Tom Doody had finished his story there came a +tremendous shower. 'There now, why,' said Tom, with a look of +triumph, as we ran for shelter, 'there now, why, isn't it a true +bill? well, I knew Saint Swithin wouldn't fail us.' And I, as the +very elements seemed to be in his favour, was obliged to leave him +the victory."</p> +<hr /> +<p>We pass over Mr. Croker's account of Mucruss Abbey and all its +legendary lore, to "Tim Marcks's adventures with a walking skull," +at Aghadoe.</p> +<p>"A fine extensive prospect this," said I to General Picket, so +was my guide called.</p> +<p>"That's the good truth for your honour," he replied, "only it's +a mighty lonesome place, and they say it's haunted by spirits, +though Tim Marcks says there's no such thing. May be your honour +wouldn't know <i>Thicus Morckus</i>; he's a long <i>stocah</i> of a +fellow, with a big nose, wears knee breeches, corderoy leggings, +and takes a power of snuff. And, if your honour would like to see +him, he lives at Corrigmalvin, at the top of High Street, in the +town of Killarney. To be sure, some people say, all that comes from +Tim isn't gospel, but that's neither here nor there; so, as I was +saying, 'I don't believe in spirits,' says he to me, of a day he +was mending the road here, and I along with him—'The dickins +you don't,' says I, 'and what's your <i>rason</i> for that +same?'—'I'll tell you that,' says he; 'it was a <i>could</i> +frosty night in the month of December, the doors were shut, and we +were all sitting by the side of a blazing turf fire. My father was +smoking his <i>doodeen</i> in the chimney corner, my mother was +overseeing the girls that were tonging the flax, and I and the +other <i>gossoons</i> were doing nothing at all, only roasting +<i>praties</i> in the ashes. "Was the colt brought in?" says my +father. "Wisha, fakes then! I believes not," says I. "Why, then, +Tim," says he, "you must run and drive him in directly, for it's a +mortal could night." "And where is he, father?" says I. "In the far +field, at the other side of the <i>ould</i> church," says he. +"Murder!" says I, for I didn't like the thoughts of going near the +<i>ould</i> church at all, at all. But there was no use in saying +<i>agen</i> it, for my father (God be merciful to him!) had us +under as much command as a regiment of soldiers. So away I went, +with a light foot and a heavy heart. Well, I soon came to the +bounds' ditch between the farm and the <i>berrin</i> ground of the +<i>ould</i> church. Then I slackened my pace a little, and kept +looking hither and over, for fear of being taken by surprise. The +moon was shining clear as day, so that I could see the gray +tombstones and the white skulls; when, all at once, I thought one +of them began to move. I could hardly believe my two eyes; but, +fakes, it was true enough; for presently it came walking down the +hill, quite leisurely at first, then a little faster, till at last +it came rolling at the rate of a fox hunt. "Twill be stopped at the +bounds' ditch," thinks I; but I was never more out in my reckoning, +for it bowled fair through the gap, and made directly up to me. "By +the mortal frost," says I, "I'm done for;" and away I scampered as +fast as my legs could carry me; but the skull came faster after me, +for I could hear every lump it gave against the stones. It's a long +stretch of a hill from the <i>berrin</i> ground down to the road; +but you'd think I wasn't longer getting down than whilst you'd be +saying "Jack Robinson." Sure enough I did make great haste; but if +I did, "the more haste the worse speed," they say, and so by me any +how, for I went souse up to my neck in a dirty <i>Lochaune</i> by +the side of the road. Well, when I recovered a little, what +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page44" name="page44"></a>[pg +44]</span> would I see but the skull at the edge of the +<i>Lochaune</i>, stuck fast in a furze bush, and grinning down at +me. "Oh, you're there," says I; "I'll have one rap at you any how, +for worse than die I can't;" so I up with a lump of a blackthorn, I +had in my fist, and gives it a rap, when what should it be after +all, but a huge rat, which had got into the skull, and, trying to +get out again, it made it to roll down the hill in that frightful +way. To be sure,' said Tim, 'to be sure it was mighty frightful, +but it wasn't a ghost after all; and, indeed, (barring that) I +never saw any thing worse than myself, though we lived for a long +time near the <i>ould</i> church of Aghadoe.'"</p> +<p>This is all we can spare room for at present. The second volume +is untouched, and will afford us a few extractable pieces—but +they must be short. We have heard of all stages of +laughter—as being convulsed—ready to +burst—splitting sides—and if our readers promise not to +<i>die</i>, in due order, with laughter—we may probably recur +to Mr. Croker's very tickling volumes.</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>SPIRIT OF DISCOVERY.</h2> +<h3><i>Analogous Growth of Trees and Animals.</i></h3> +<p>Trees placed in an exposed situation have their +resources;—the object being to protect the sap-vessels, which +transmit nutriment, and which lie betwixt the wood and the bark, +the tree never fails to throw out, and especially on the side most +exposed to the blast, a thick coating of bark, designed to protect, +and which effectually does protect, the sap-vessels and the process +of circulation to which they are adapted, from the injury which +necessarily must otherwise ensue. Now, if an animal is in danger of +suffocation from want of vital air, instead of starving by being +exposed to its unqualified rigour, instinct or reason directs the +sufferer to approach those apertures through which any supply of +that necessary of human life can be attained, and induces man, at +the same time, to free himself from any coverings which may be +rendered oppressive by the state in which he finds himself. Now it +may be easily proved, that a similar instinct to that which induced +the unfortunate sufferers in the black-hole of Calcutta to struggle +with the last efforts to approach the solitary aperture which +admitted air to their dungeon, and to throw from them their +garments, in order to encourage the exertions which nature made to +relieve herself by perspiration, is proper, also, to the noblest of +the vegetable tribe. Look at a wood or plantation which has not +been duly thinned:—the trees which exist will be seen drawn +up to poles, with narrow and scanty tops, endeavouring to make +their way towards such openings to the sky as might permit the +access of light and air. If entirely precluded by the boughs which +have closed over them, the weaker plants will be found strangely +distorted by attempts to get out at a side of the plantation; and +finally, if overpowered in these attempts by the obstacles opposed +to them, they inevitably perish. As men throw aside their garments, +influenced by a close situation, trees placed in similar +circumstances, exhibit a bark thin and beautifully green and +succulent, entirely divested of that thick, coarse, protecting +substance which covers the sap-vessels in an exposed position.</p> +<p>There is a singular and beautiful process of action and +re-action which takes place betwixt the progress of the roots and +of the branches. The latter must, by their vigour and numbers, +stretch out under ground before the branches can develope +themselves in the air; and, on the other hand, it is necessary that +the branches so develope themselves, to give employment to the +roots in collecting food. There is a system of close commerce +between them; if either fail in discharging their part, the other +must suffer in proportion. The increase of the branches, therefore, +in exposed trees is and must be in proportion with that of the +roots, and <i>vice versâ</i>; and as the exposed tree spreads +its branches on every side to balance itself against the wind, as +it shortens its stem or trunk, to afford the mechanical force of +the tempest a shorter lever to act upon, so numerous and strong +roots spread themselves under ground, by way of anchorage, to an +extent and in a manner unknown to sheltered +trees.—<i>Quarterly Review</i>.</p> +<hr /> +<h3><i>Preservation of Eggs.</i></h3> +<p>Relative to the preservation of eggs by immersion in lime-water, +M. Peschier has given most satisfactory evidence of the efficacy of +the process. Eggs which he had preserved for six years in this way, +being boiled and tried, were found perfectly fresh and good; and a +confectioner of Geneva has used a whole cask of eggs preserved by +the same means. In the small way eggs may be thus preserved in +bottles or other vessels. They are to be introduced when quite +fresh, the bottle then filled with lime-water, a little powdered +lime sprinkled in at last, and then the bottle closed. To prepare +the lime-water, twenty or thirty pints of water are to be mixed up +with five or six pounds of slaked <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page45" name="page45"></a>[pg 45]</span> quick-lime put into a +covered vessel allowed to clear by standing, and the lime-water +immediately used.</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS.</h2> +<h3>ARRIVALS AT A WATERING PLACE.</h3> +<p>SCENE—A conversazione at Lady Crumpton's—Whist and +weariness, caricatures and Chinese Puzzle.—Young ladies +making tea, and young gentlemen making the agreeable.—The +stableboy handing rout-cakes.—Music expressive of there being +nothing to do.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>I play a spade—such strange new faces</p> +<p class="i2">Are flocking in from near and far:</p> +<p>Such frights—Miss Dobbs holds all the aces.—</p> +<p class="i2">One can't imagine who they are!</p> +<p>The lodgings at enormous prices,</p> +<p class="i2">New donkeys, and another fly—</p> +<p>And Madame Bonbon out of ices,</p> +<p class="i2">Although we're scarcely in July—</p> +<p>We're quite as sociable as any,</p> +<p class="i2">But our old horse can hardly crawl—</p> +<p>And really where there are so many,</p> +<p class="i2">We can't tell where we ought to call.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Pray who has seen the odd old fellow</p> +<p class="i2">Who took the Doctor's house last week?—</p> +<p>A pretty chariot,—livery yellow,</p> +<p class="i2">Almost as yellow as his cheek—</p> +<p>A widower, sixty-five, and surly,</p> +<p class="i2">And stiffer than a poplar-tree—</p> +<p>Drinks rum and water, gets up early</p> +<p class="i2">To dip his carcass in the sea—</p> +<p>He's always in a monstrous hurry,</p> +<p class="i2">And always talking of Bengal;</p> +<p>They say his cook makes noble curry—</p> +<p>I think, Louisa, we should call.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>And so Miss Jones, the mantua-maker,</p> +<p class="i2">Has let her cottage on the hill?—</p> +<p>The drollest man, a sugar-baker,</p> +<p class="i2">Last year imported from the till—</p> +<p>Prates of his <i>orses</i> and his <i>oney</i>,</p> +<p class="i2">Is quite in love with fields and farms—</p> +<p>A horrid Vandal,—but his money</p> +<p class="i2">Will buy a glorious coat of arms;</p> +<p>Old Clyster makes him take the waters;</p> +<p class="i2">Some say he means to give a ball—</p> +<p>And after all, with thirteen daughters,</p> +<p class="i2">I think, Sir Thomas, you might call.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>That poor young man!—I'm sure and certain</p> +<p class="i2">Despair is making up his shroud:</p> +<p>He walks all night beneath the curtain</p> +<p class="i2">Of the dim sky and murky cloud—</p> +<p>Draws landscapes,—throws such mournful glances!—</p> +<p class="i2">Writes verses,—has such splendid +eyes—</p> +<p>An ugly name,—but Laura fancies</p> +<p class="i2">He's some great person in disguise!</p> +<p>And since his dress is all the fashion,</p> +<p class="i2">And since he's very dark and tall,</p> +<p>I think that, out of pure compassion,</p> +<p class="i2">I'll get papa to go and call.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>So Lord St. Ives is occupying</p> +<p class="i2">The whole of Mr. Ford's Hotel—</p> +<p>Last Saturday his man was trying</p> +<p class="i2">A little nag I want to sell.</p> +<p>He brought a lady in the carriage—</p> +<p class="i2">Blue eyes,—eighteen, or thereabouts—</p> +<p>Of course, you know, we <i>hope</i> it's marriage!</p> +<p class="i2">But yet the <i>femme de chambre</i> doubts.</p> +<p>She look'd so pensive when we met her—</p> +<p class="i2">Poor thing! and such a charming shawl!</p> +<p>Well! till we understand it better,</p> +<p class="i2">It's quite impossible to call.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Old Mr. Fund, the London banker,</p> +<p class="i2">Arrived to-day at Premium Court—</p> +<p>I would not, for the world, cast anchor</p> +<p class="i2">In such a horrid dangerous port—</p> +<p>Such dust and rubbish, lath and plaster,</p> +<p class="i2">(Contractors play the meanest tricks)</p> +<p>The roof's as crazy as its master,</p> +<p class="i2">And he was born in fifty-six—</p> +<p>Stairs creaking—cracks in every landing,</p> +<p class="i2">The colonnade is sure to fall—</p> +<p>We sha'n't find post or pillar standing,</p> +<p class="i2">Unless we make great haste to call.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Who was that sweetest of sweet creatures,</p> +<p class="i2">Last Sunday, in the Rector's seat?</p> +<p>The finest shape,—the loveliest features,</p> +<p class="i2">I never saw such tiny feet.</p> +<p>My brother,—(this is quite between us)</p> +<p class="i2">Poor Arthur,—'twas a sad affair!</p> +<p>Love at first sight,—She's quite a Venus,</p> +<p class="i2">But then she's poorer far than fair—</p> +<p>And so my father and my mother</p> +<p class="i2">Agreed it would not do at all—</p> +<p>And so,—I'm sorry for my brother!</p> +<p class="i2">It's settled that we're not to call.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>And there's an author, full of knowledge—</p> +<p class="i2">And there's a captain on half-pay—</p> +<p>And there's a baronet from college,</p> +<p class="i2">Who keeps a boy, and rides a bay—</p> +<p>And sweet Sir Marcus from the Shannon,</p> +<p class="i2">Fine specimen of brogue and bone—</p> +<p>And Doctor Calipee, the canon,</p> +<p class="i2">Who weighs, I fancy, twenty stone—</p> +<p>A maiden lady is adorning</p> +<p class="i2">The faded front of Lily Hall—</p> +<p>Upon my word, the first fine morning,</p> +<p class="i2">We'll make around, my dear, and call.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Alas! disturb not, maid and matron,</p> +<p class="i2">The swallow in my humble thatch—</p> +<p>Your son may find a better patron,</p> +<p class="i2">Your niece may meet a richer match—</p> +<p>I can't afford to give a dinner,</p> +<p class="i2">I never was on Almack's list—</p> +<p>And since I seldom rise a winner,</p> +<p class="i2">I never like to play at whist—</p> +<p>Unknown to me the stocks are falling—</p> +<p class="i2">Unwatch'd by me the glass may fall—</p> +<p>Let all the world pursue its calling,</p> +<p class="i2">I'm not at home if people call.</p> +</div> +</div> +<h4><i>London Magazine.</i></h4> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>WINE DRINKING.</h2> +<blockquote> +<p>Use a little wine, for thy stomach's sake.</p> +<p>I Tim. v. 23.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>So says St. Paul—and this seems to have been the opinion +of the most ancient philosophers and physicians. A moderate use of +it has been sanctioned by the wise and good in all ages. Those who +have denied its virtues are those who have not been able to drink +it. Asclepiades wrote upon wine, the use of which he introduced +with almost every remedy, observing, that the gods had bestowed no +more valuable gift on man: even the surly Diogenes drank it; for it +is said of him, that he liked that wine best, which he drank at +other people's cost—a notion adopted by the oinopholous +Mosely, who, when asked, "What wine do you drink, doctor?" +answered, "Port at home—claret abroad!"</p> +<p>Hippocrates, the father of physic, recommends a cheerful glass; +and Rhases, an ancient Arabian physician, says, no liquor is equal +to good wine. Reineck wrote a dissertation "De Potu Vinoso;" and +the learned Dr. Shaw lauded the "juice of the grape." But the +stoutest of its medical advocates was Tobias <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page46" name="page46"></a>[pg 46]</span> Whitaker, +physician to Charles II., who undertook to prove the possibility of +maintaining life, from infancy to old age, without sickness, by the +use of wine!</p> +<p>It must, however, be remembered, that Whitaker was cordially +attached to wine, and a greater friend to the vintner than to the +apothecary, having as utter a dislike to unpalatable medicines, as +the most squeamish of his patients; therefore, Dr. Toby's evidence +must be taken with caution, independently of the courtly spirit +that might have led him to adapt his theories to the times.</p> +<p>It has been questioned whether the use of wine was known to the +antediluvian world; but there can be do doubt, in the corrupt state +of man, that wine would have its share in his debasement, and it +may be very strongly inferred, from the circumstance that Noah +planted a vineyard, and, moreover, "that he drank of the wine, and +was drunken," (Gen, ix. 20.)—a sad stain in the character of +a man who was "perfect in his generation;" and which also proves +that, in the earliest period of the world, the very best of men +were liable to fall into error and excess.</p> +<p>But the antiquity and propriety of wine-drinking is not matter +of question. The archbishop of Seville, Antonio de Solis, who lived +to be 110 years old, drank wine; and even that wonderful pattern of +propriety, Cornaro, did the same: but the question is about +quantity. Sir William Temple was pleased to lay down a rule, and +limit propriety to three glasses. "I drink one glass," says he, +"for health, a second for refreshment, a third for a friend; but he +that offers a fourth is an enemy."</p> +<p>As in eating, so in drinking, in the question of +quantity—much depends on the capacity of the stomach. A very +abstemious friend of mine, not long since, dined tete-a-tete with a +gentleman well known for his kindness and hospitality, and not less +so for his powers of bibulation. After dinner, at which a fair +share of many excellent wines was taken, Port and Madeira were put +on the table, and before the host, a <i>magnum</i> of Claret. My +friend drank his usual quantum, three glasses of Madeira, during +which time a great portion of the magnum had disappeared; and soon +afterwards, being emptied, the host said, "I think we can just +manage a bottle between us." The bottle was brought, and very +shortly disappeared, without the aid of the visiter.</p> +<p>The same gentleman and Lord ——, at the Angel at +Bury, fell in with some excellent Claret. They had disposed of six +bottles, when the landlord, who did not guess or <i>gauge</i> the +<i>quality</i> of his customers (the bell being rung for a fresh +supply,) begged very gently to hint that it was expensive stuff, +being fifteen shillings a bottle! "Oh! is it so? then bring up two +bottles directly!"</p> +<p>We have nothing, however, in modern times, at all equal to the +account given of some of the ancients. The elder Cato, we are told, +warmed good principles with a considerable quantity of good +wine.<a id="footnotetag5" name="footnotetag5"></a><a href= +"#footnote5"><sup>5</sup></a> But Cicero's son exceeds all others; +so much so, that he got the name of <i>Bicongius</i>, because he +was accustomed to drink two congii<a id="footnotetag6" name= +"footnotetag6"></a><a href="#footnote6"><sup>6</sup></a> at a +sitting. Pliny, and others, abound in grand examples, that prove we +have degenerated at any rate in this respect, for these convivials +were neither sick nor sorry. Even that eminent debauchee, Nero, was +only three times sick in fourteen years. "Nam qui luxuriae +immoderatissimae esset, ter omnino per xiv. annos languit; atque +ita, ut neque <i>vino</i>, neque consuetudine <i>reliqua</i> +abstineret."</p> +<p>The Abbé de Voisenon, a very diminutive man, said to his +physician, who ordered him a quart of ptisan per hour, "Ah! my +friend, how can you desire me to swallow a quart an hour? I hold +only a pint."</p> +<p>Wine has not only been considered good for the body, but has, +from the earliest period, been thought invigorating to the mind. +Thus we find it a constant theme of praise with poets. Martial +says—</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Regnat nocte calix, volvuntur biblia mane,</p> +<p class="i2">Cum Phoebo Bacchus dividit imperium.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>All night I drink, and study hard all day;</p> +<p class="i2">Bacchus and Phoebus hold divided sway.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>Horace has done ample justice to it; and even Homer +says—</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>The weary find new strength in generous wine.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>Upon the principle, no doubt, of expanding the imagination, we +find, so early as 1374, old Geoffrey Chaucer had a pitcher of wine +a day allowed him. Ben Jonson, in after times, had the third of a +pipe annually; and a certain share of this invigorating aliment has +been the portion of Laureates down to the present day.</p> +<p>Nor are the poets the only eulogists of wine. Some of the +greatest names in history are to be found in the list. We find Mr. +Burke furnishing reasons why the rich and the great should have +their share of wine. He says, they are among <i>the +unhappy</i>—they feel personal pain and domestic +sorrow—they pay their full contingent <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page47" name="page47"></a>[pg 47]</span> to the +contributions levied on mortality in these matters;—therefore +they require this sovereign balm. "Some charitable dole," says he, +"is wanting to those, our often <i>very unhappy brethren</i>, to +fill the gloomy void that reigns in minds which have nothing on +earth to hope or fear; something to relieve the killing languor and +over-laboured lassitude of those who have nothing to do."</p> +<p>This observation of Mr. Burke's introduces it to our notice as a +remedy—as a medicine, in the hands of a physician. Thus we +find particular wines recommended by particular doctors, having a +fashionable run as specifics:—at one time all the gouty +people were drinking Madeira; and many a man persuaded himself he +had a fit of <i>flying</i> gout, for the sake of the remedy.<a id= +"footnotetag7" name="footnotetag7"></a><a href= +"#footnote7"><sup>7</sup></a> Somebody, however, found out that +Madeira contained acid, and straight the cellars were rummaged for +old Sherry. This change was attributed to Dr. Baillie, who had no +more to do with it than Boerhaave, as he has been known to declare. +Sherry, and nothing but Sherry, however, could or would the +<i>Podagres</i> drink.</p> +<p>Dr. Reynolds, who lived and practised very much with the higher +orders, had a predilection for that noble and expensive comforter, +Hoc! which short word, from his lips, has often made the doctor's +physic as costly as the doctor's fee.</p> +<p>Wine has also been recommended, by the highest medical +authorities, as alleviating the infirmities of old age.</p> +<p>A Greek physician recommended it to Alexander as the pure blood +of the earth.</p> +<p>Though an excess in wine is highly blamable, yet it is more +pardonable than most other excesses. The progressive steps to it +are cheerful, animating, and seducing; the melancholy are relieved, +the grave enlivened, the witty and gay inspired—which is the +very reverse of excess in eating: for, Nature satisfied, every +additional morsel carries dulness and stupidity with it. "Every +inordinate cup is unbless'd, and the ingredient is a devil," says +Shakspeare.</p> +<p>"King Edgar, like a king of good fellows," adds Selden, "or +master of the revels, made a law for Drinking. He gave orders that +studs, or knobs of silver or gold (so Malmesbury tells us.) should +be fastened to the sides of their cups, or drinking vessels, that +when every one knew his mark or boundary, he should, out of +modesty, not either himself covet, or force another to desire, more +than his stint." This is the only law, before the first parliament +under king James, that has been made against those swill-bowls,</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Swabbers of drunken feasts, and lusty rowers,</p> +<p>In full-brimmed rummers that do ply their oars,</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>"who, by their carouses (tippling up Nestor's years as if they +were celebrating the goddess <i>Anna Perenna</i>,) do, at the same +time, drink others' health, and mischief and spoil their own and +the public."</p> +<p>An argument very much after this fashion was held by the learned +Sir Thomas More. Sir Thomas was sent ambassador to the Emperor by +king Henry the Eighth. The morning he was to have his audience, +<i>knowing the virtue of wine</i>, he ordered his servant to bring +him a good large glass of Sack; and, having drunk that, called for +another. The servant, with officious ignorance, would have +dissuaded him from it, but in vain; the ambassador drank off a +second, and demanded a third, which he likewise drank off; +insisting on a fourth, he was over-persuaded by his servant to let +it alone; so he went to his audience. But when he returned home, he +called for his servant, and threatened him with his cane. "You +rogue," said he, "what mischief have you done me! I spoke so to the +emperor, on the inspiration of those three glasses that I drank, +that he told me I was fit to govern three parts of the world. Now, +you dog! if I had drunk the fourth glass, I had been fit to govern +all the world."</p> +<p>The French, a very sober people, have a proverb—</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Qu'il faut, à chaque mois,</p> +<p>S'enivrer au moins une fois.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>Which has been improved by some, on this side the water, into an +excuse for getting drunk every day in the week, for fear that the +<i>specific day</i> should be missed. It would, however, startle +some of our sober readers, to find this made a question of grave +argument—yet, "whether it is not healthful to be drunk once a +month," is treated on by Dr. Carr in his letters to Dr. +Quincy.—<i>Brande's Jour.</i></p> +<hr /> +<p>It is somewhat curious that two illustrious members of the Royal +Society should have distinguished themselves on <i>Angling</i>. +Nearly 200 years ago, Prince Rupert studied the art of tempering +<i>fish-hooks</i>; and the other day Sir Humphry Davy published a +volume on <i>Fly-fishing</i>.</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page48" name="page48"></a>[pg +48]</span> +<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> +<hr /> +<h3>PUNS.</h3> +<p>It was a good defence of baskets of game and periodical +remittances of Norfolk turkeys, that "<i>Presents</i> endear +<i>absents</i>."</p> +<hr /> +<p>Some one observed, on hearing of the <i>Manchew</i> Tartars, +that they must be a race of Cannibals; on which another said, that +he concluded the Chinese must be a tribe of the Celtes, +(<i>Sell-Teas</i>.)</p> +<hr /> +<p>Bannister being impudently asked, "If he was not a relation of +Lord STAIR?" good-humouredly answered, "It must then be by +collateral descent."</p> +<hr /> +<p>A gentleman having received a shot in <i>the Temple</i>, Mr. +Theodore Hook remarked that it was a <i>legal wound</i>; an +inveterate punster who overheard this never forgave himself for not +replying on the spot, "As it was not fatal, it could only have been +a <i>Gray's Inn</i> (grazing) wound."</p> +<hr /> +<h3>TOASTS.</h3> +<p>After the battle of Assaye, at a <i>fête</i>, I recollect, +on one of these occasions, a rather illiterate character, who used +to say that "Father and he fit, caise he sold the beastesses for +too little money; so he coummed out a cadet," sat as +vice-president; the toast of "General Wellesley, and the heroes of +Assaye," was, as usual, given from the chair; when Mr. Vice, rising +majestically, and holding aloft his brimming glass, with a sonorous +voice, and north-country accent, echoed the toast in the words, +"General Wellesley, and here he is I say!"—<i>Twelve Years' +Military Adventures, &c</i>.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>THE MUG-HOUSE CLUB.</h3> +<h4>(<i>From "A Journey through England," 1722</i>.)</h4> +<p>In the City of London, almost every parish hath its separate +club, where the citizens, after the fatigue of the day is over in +their shops, and on the Exchange, unbend their thoughts before they +go to bed.</p> +<p>But the most diverting, or amusing of all, is the Mug-House-Club +in Long-Acre, where, every Wednesday and Saturday, a mixture of +gentlemen, lawyers, and tradesmen, meet in a great room, and are +seldom under a hundred.</p> +<p>They have a grave old gentleman in his own gray hairs, now +within a few months of ninety years old, who is their president; +and sits in an armed-chair, some steps higher than the rest of the +company, to keep the whole room in order. A harp plays all the time +at the lower end of the room; and every now and then one or other +of the company rises and entertains the rest with a song, and (by +the by) some are good masters. Here is nothing drank but ale, and +every gentleman hath his separate mug, which he chalks on the table +where he sits as it is brought in; and every one retires when he +pleases, as from a coffee-house.</p> +<p>The room is always so diverted with songs, and drinking from one +table to another to one another's healths, that there is no room +for politics, or any thing that can sour conversation.</p> +<p>One must be there by seven to get room, and after ten the +company are for the most part gone.</p> +<p>This is a winter's amusement, that is agreeable enough to a +stranger for once or twice, and he is well diverted with the +different humours, when the Mugs overflow.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>JOY AND SORROW.</h3> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>The light of heaven unheeded shines,</p> +<p class="i2">If cloudless be our skies;</p> +<p>But when it beams on life's dark clouds,</p> +<p class="i2">What <i>rainbow</i> beauties rise!</p> +</div> +</div> +<h4><i>Lit. Gaz.</i></h4> +<hr /> +<h3>INSCRIBED ON A CLOCK.</h3> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Improve time in time while time lasts,</p> +<p>For all time's no time when time's past.</p> +</div> +</div> +<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 XII. in boards, price +£3.6<i>s</i>. half bound, £4. 2<i>s</i>. 6<i>d</i>.</p> +<hr /> +<p>LIMBIRD'S EDITIONS.</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>The ARCANA of SCIENCE for 1828. Price 4s. 6d.</p> +<p>Any of the above Works can be purchased in Parts.</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> +<hr class="full" /> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote1" name= +"footnote1"></a> <b>Footnote 1</b>:<a href= +"#footnotetag1">(return)</a> +<p>He likewise held the villa of Brandenburgh House, at +Hammersmith, since known as the residence of Queen Caroline.</p> +</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote2" name= +"footnote2"></a> <b>Footnote 2</b>:<a href= +"#footnotetag2">(return)</a> +<p>It may be a test of the length of the reader's acquaintance with +the MIRROR—but at page 450, vol. i. he will find a brief +account of the means by which Mr. Hornor completed his sketches for +the Panorama—his erection of an observatory—and a faint +idea of the extreme perils, all which did not daunt the fearless +mind of this aspiring artist. Mr. Britton says the sketches made +for the projected picture, occupied 2,000 sheets of paper!</p> +</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote3" name= +"footnote3"></a> <b>Footnote 3</b>:<a href= +"#footnotetag3">(return)</a> +<p>Mimic rocks and stones may be wrought into sublime effect; and +have often been introduced into landscape-gardening with striking +success.</p> +</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote4" name= +"footnote4"></a> <b>Footnote 4</b>:<a href= +"#footnotetag4">(return)</a> +<p>Saxons—The English.</p> +</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote5" name= +"footnote5"></a> <b>Footnote 5</b>:<a href= +"#footnotetag5">(return)</a> +<p>Cato allowed his slaves, during the Saturnalia, four bottles of +wine per diem.</p> +</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote6" name= +"footnote6"></a> <b>Footnote 6</b>:<a href= +"#footnotetag6">(return)</a> +<p>Two congii are seven quarts, or eight bottles!</p> +</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote7" name= +"footnote7"></a> <b>Footnote 7</b>:<a href= +"#footnotetag7">(return)</a> +<p>An eminent house-painter in the city, a governor of St. +Bartholomew's Hospital, got a receipt for the Painter's Cholic +(cholica pictonum,) which contained all sorts of comfortable +things—the chief ingredients being Cogniac brandy and spices. +It did wonders with the first two or three cases; but he found the +success of the remedy so increased the frequency of the complaint, +that he was compelled to give up his medical treatment; for as long +as he had the <i>Specific</i>, his men were constantly making wry +faces at him.</p> +</blockquote> +<hr class="full" /> +<p><i>Printed and Published by J. LIMBIRD, 143, Strand, (near +Somerset House,) London; sold by ERNEST FLEISCHER, 626, New Market, +Leipsic; and by all Newsmen and Booksellers.</i></p> +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11342 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/11342-h/images/352-1.png b/11342-h/images/352-1.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..cc8211a --- /dev/null +++ b/11342-h/images/352-1.png |
