diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:36:48 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:36:48 -0700 |
| commit | 45ae71b2d8c5cf90296872bc15315e9cfd57158c (patch) | |
| tree | beb4b71ba160295b65e27e3989220d57299c4f9b /11389-h | |
Diffstat (limited to '11389-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 11389-h/11389-h.htm | 1671 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 11389-h/images/330-1.png | bin | 0 -> 262103 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 11389-h/images/330-2.png | bin | 0 -> 34092 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 11389-h/images/330-3.png | bin | 0 -> 32382 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 11389-h/images/330-4.png | bin | 0 -> 57808 bytes |
5 files changed, 1671 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/11389-h/11389-h.htm b/11389-h/11389-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f6d000f --- /dev/null +++ b/11389-h/11389-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1671 @@ +<!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 330.</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 11389 ***</div> + +<hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page145" name="page145"></a>[pg +145]</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. 12. No. 330.]</b></td> +<td align="center"><b>SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 6, 1828</b></td> +<td align="right"><b>[PRICE 2d.</b></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page146" name="page146"></a>[pg +146]</span> +<h2>WHY ARE NOT THE ENGLISH A MUSICAL PEOPLE?</h2> +<blockquote> +<p>We cannot help it.—<i>Massinger's Roman Actor.</i></p> +</blockquote> +<p>Astronomy, music, and architecture, are the floating topics of +the day; on the second of these heads we have thrown together a few +hints, which may, probably prove entertaining to our readers.</p> +<p>The English are not—you know, reflective public—a +musical people; this has been said over and over again in the +musical and dramatic critiques of the newspapers. True it is that +we have no <i>national music</i>, like our neighbours the Welsh, +the Irish, or the Scotch; for our music, like out language, is a +mere <i>riccifamento</i>, stolen from every nation in Europe. But +our king (God bless him) is an excellent musician, and plays the +violoncello most delightfully; and we have an Academy of Music. +Then we have an Italian Theatre that burns the feet and fingers of +all who meddle with its management—witness, Mr. Ebers, who, +by being "married" to sweet sounds, lost the enormous sum of +47,000<i>l</i>.—it must be owned, an unfortunate match, or as +Dr. Franklin would have said, "paying rather too dear for his +whistle." We have too an <i>English Opera House</i>, where scarcely +any but <i>foreign</i> music is heard, and which, to the +ever-lasting credit of its management, has transplanted from the +warm climes of the south to our ungenial atmosphere, some of the +finest compositions in the continental schools of modern music. +Success has, however, attended most of their enterprises; for the +taste of the English for foreign music is by no means a modern +mania. From Pepys's <i>Diary</i> we learn that the first company of +Italian singers came here in the reign of Charles II.: they were +brought by Killigrew from Venice, about 1688; but they did not +perform whole operas, only detached scenes in recitative, and not +in any public theatre, but in the houses of the nobility. Thus, +Italian music was loved and cultivated very early in England, and +London was the next capital, after Vienna, which established and +supported an Italian Opera. But, as we never do things by halves, +we had soon afterwards, two opposition houses. This proves that the +English have a <i>taste for music</i>; indeed they have much more +judgment than some of their neighbours, which makes it still more +to be regretted that nothing is done in England towards the +advancement of music as a science. Is the world of sound and the +soul of song exhausted? Why should we, who are marching in every +other direction, stand still in this? But no; what Orpheus did with +<i>music</i>, we are striving to accomplish by <i>steam</i>; what +he effected by quietly touching his lyre, we study with the +atmospheres and condensers of high and low pressure engines.</p> +<p>The writer of a delightful paper in the <i>Foreign Review</i>, +No. 3, in tracing the rise and progress of music, inquires what has +become of "its loftier pretensions, its celestial attributes, its +moral and political influence." He then facetiously observes, "How +should we marvel to see the Duke of Wellington, like another +Epaminondas, take his flute out of his pocket to still the clamour +of the opposition, or Mr. Peel reply to the arguments of Mr. +Huskisson with an allegro on the fiddle."</p> +<p>The Greeks were not such grave people as some may be inclined to +think them. Among them, poetry and music were so intimately +connected, that they were in fact one and the same. It is not so +with us; we have Byron and Moore, in poetry; but where are their +parallels in English music!</p> +<p>"Music," says Plutarch, "was the universal language of Greece, +the sacred vehicle of history, philosophy, laws, and morals;" but +in England it is little more than a mere amusement to while away +the evening, or at best, but a branch of <i>female</i> education. +Pianos are become articles of furniture to be met with in almost +every other genteel house; Miss and her sisters sit down by turns, +and screw themselves up to <i>Ah vous dirai</i>, or "I'd be a +butterfly"—till some handsome young fellow who has stood +behind her chair for six months, turned over her music, or +accompanied her through a few liquorish airs, vows his tender +passion, brings her the last new song, and at length swears to be +her accompaniment throughout life. The piano is then locked up, the +music sent to Bath or <i>Canterbury</i>, and the lady is married +and cannot sing.</p> +<p>But the Greek poets sang their own verses: "Homer literally +<i>sang</i> the wrath of Achilles, and the woes of Greece;" would +it were so in England. Then, my poetical public, we should have +Anacreon Moore singing his "Rich and rare were the gems she wore," +in some such place as the Quadrant, or Opera Colonnade; and Sir +Walter Scott celebrating the Field of Waterloo, not in the +broad-margined octavos of Paternoster-row, but about the purlieus +of the Horse Guards. Wordsworth would be his own Skylark. The +laureate, Southey, would perch himself on the dome of the New +Palace. Campbell would step out of New Burlingtonstreet into the +Park; Miss Mitford would <span class="pagenum"><a id="page147" +name="page147"></a>[pg 147]</span> keep a Covent-Garden audience +awake with her own tragedies, and Planché would no longer +entrust his rhymes to Paton or Vestris. On the other hand, Braham +would no longer be indebted to Moore for his songs, Bishop would +write, compose, and sing his own operas, and all our vocalists +enter, like Dryden's king and two fiddlers, <i>solus</i>!</p> +<p>Could we but once become a musical people, we should no longer +marvel at the effect of music in ancient times; for who knows but +that if an Englishman were to play like Orpheus, the River Thames +might cease to flow; the disposal of Mr. Cross's menagerie be no +longer a question, since the animals might be allowed to ramble +about the Strand; and Snowdon or Cader Idris journey to the King's +Theatre to listen to his inspirations.</p> +<p>It is, however, impossible to calculate the benefits which this +acquisition of musical skill might prove to the English people. +What bloodshed and tribulation it would prevent. Weare, or Maria +Marten, like Stradella, might have disarmed their assassins; the +Insolvent Act would be obsolete, and duns defeated; since hundreds +of improvident wights, like Palma, might, by their strains, soften +the hearts of their creditors, and draw tears from sheriff's +officers. Chancery-lane would be depopulated, and Cursitor-street +be left to the fowls of the air; locks would fall 50 per cent, and +Mr. Bramah might betake himself to Van Dieman's Land. What a +pleasant thing would a public dinner be; for, instead of a +gentleman in a dress coat singing as from the orchestra of an +oratorio, he would throw a more impassioned energy into his own +compositions than he could possibly impart to those of another, and +proportionally enhance the delight of his company. All the +mechanism of professional singing would then give way to "the feast +of reason and the flow of soul."</p> +<p>We know not how to have done with these pleasures of "linked +sweetness"—this "mosaic of the air," as Marvell quaintly +calls it. We have a decided aversion to the system of borrowing, +which, in the absence of our own musical resources, seems to be +universally adopted. Thus, as Charles Mathews says, "every footman +whistles <i>Frieschutz</i>;" and the barrel organ which does not +play two or three of its airs may be consigned to the brokers. A +few months since every bachelor hummed or whistled "<i>C'est +l'amour</i>," and the French, to return the compliment, have made +our "Robin Adair," one of the claptraps of the music of their <i>La +Dame Blanche</i>. Next, when will Mr. Bishop's <i>Home, sweet +home</i>, be forgotten, although the original is a Sicilian air of +considerable antiquity. All the baker's and butcher's boys in +London can go through "<i>Di tanti pal</i>"—where they leave +off, answer a question, and take up the "<i>piti</i>," with the +skill of a musician; and as readily fall into the sympathetic +melodies of "<i>Oh no we never mention her</i>," or the "<i>Light +Guitar</i>." But to atone for these vulgarisms, who that has heard +the syren strains of Stephens or Paton, or the Anglo-Italian style +of Braham, but has envied them the pleasurable monopoly of +delighting thousands, and sending them home with the favourite air +still echoing in their ears, and lulling them to soft slumbers! Who +is there that has enjoyed his circle of friends without regretting +a thousand times that he had not a fiftieth part of such talent to +enliven the festive hour, and lend a charm, however, fleeting, to +what may be termed the poetry of life.</p> +<p>As we have noticed the taste of the Greeks for music, it is but +fair that we should allude to that of their successors. In ancient +Rome, music was never popular. Combats of gladiators and wild +beasts filled their theatres with streams of blood, instead of +their resounding with music; and after the death of Nero,<a id= +"footnotetag1" name="footnotetag1"></a><a href= +"#footnote1"><sup>1</sup></a> that beautiful art was declared +infamous, and by a public decree, banished from the city. In our +theatres, however, heroes fight to music, from the Richard III. and +Richmond of Shakspeare to the "terrific combats" of modern +melodrame.</p> +<p>Anything is, however, better than despair, and let us hope that +something may be done towards the amendment of our musical +reputation. We have too much of what Cobbett would call the +"dead-weight" in us to become adopted by Apollo as the "children of +song;" but what with the school of music in Tenterden-street, and +numberless juvenile prodigies, we may indulge the expectation of +rising in the diatonic scale, and that too at no very distant +period. Burney and Crotch were remarkable instances of precocious +musical skill; and in the present day, children from eight to +twelve sing the most popular Italian airs on the English stage, +with remarkable accuracy.</p> +<p>Apropos, we hear of constitutions being set to music, for says +the <i>Foreign Review</i>, <span class="pagenum"><a id="page148" +name="page148"></a>[pg 148]</span> "during the short revolution at +Naples, in 1820, a Neapolitan was heard to swear that if the +government intended that the new constitution should be understood +or accepted by the people, they must first have it set to music by +Rossini."</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>GARDENS OF THE ZOOLOGICAL SOCIETY, REGENT'S PARK.</h2> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/330-1.png"><img width="100%" src="images/330-1.png" alt= +"Gardens of the Zoological Society, Regent's Park" /></a></div> +<p>We are again in the <i>Regents Park</i>; but we must leave its +architectural splendour for the present, and request our readers to +accompany us towards the eastern verge of the Park, to the Gardens +of the Zoological Society, established in 1826, and whose members +now amount to <i>eleven hundred</i>! The grounds are daily filled +with fashionable company, notwithstanding the great migrations +which usually take place at this season of the year, and almost +depopulate the western hemisphere of fashion. The gardens, +independent of their zoological attractions, are a delightful +promenade, being laid out with great taste, and the parterres +boasting a beautiful display of flowers. The animals, too, are seen +to much greater advantage than when shut up in a menagerie, and +have the luxury of fresh air, instead of unwholesome respiration in +a room or caravan.<a id="footnotetag2" name= +"footnotetag2"></a><a href="#footnote2"><sup>2</sup></a></p> +<p>At page 413 of our last volume, the reader will find an abstract +of the second anniversary of the Society, since which the Gardens +in the Regent's Park have been opened for public inspection. We +have accordingly availed ourselves of this privilege, and our +draughtsman has been at some pains in the annexed sketch, together +with the vignette <i>portraits</i> accompanying it. The +"<i>Bird's-Eye View</i>" will be better explained by reference to +the figures; thus,</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>1. Entrance Gate and Pay Hut.</p> +<p>2. Ditto Check Hut.</p> +<p>3. House and Ground for <i>Emus</i>:</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>Two awkward land birds, resembling ostriches. Their incapability +of flying is compensated by the exceeding speed with which they +run. They are natives of New Holland.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>4. Central Walk.</p> +<p>5. Sloping Shrubbery of Defence.</p> +<p>6. Fields for Horses and Cattle.</p> +<p>7. Building for <i>Bears,</i>,</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="figure" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/330-2.png"><img width="50%" src="images/330-2.png" alt= +"Building for Bears" /></a></div> +<p>communicating with their pit, in the centre of which is a pole +with steps for the animals to ascend and descend. At the extremity +of the upper walk, the pit is surrounded with a dwarf wall and +coping, to which (since our sketch was taken) have been added iron +rails. There are here two Arctic bears, and a small black bear, the +latter brought from Russia,<a id="footnotetag3" name= +"footnotetag3"></a><a href="#footnote3"><sup>3</sup></a> and +presented to the Society, by the Marquess of Hertford. There is +usually a crowd of visiters about this spot, and the sagacity and +antics of our four-footed friends ensure them liberal supplies of +cakes and fruit, handed to them on a pole. We were much interested +with their tricks, especially with the vexation betrayed by one of +them, at the top of the pole, when he saw his companion below seize +a cake which the former had previously eyed with great <i>gout</i>. +His wringing and biting his paws reminded us of many scenes out of +a bear-pit. Then the snorting and snarling of the old bear below, +when the young one attempted to obtain a cake thrown to him; and +above all, the small share which our black friend <i>Toby</i> +enjoyed, probably from his docility over-much,—like +good-natured men who are mastered by those of rough natures. We +could have staid here a whole hour, watching their antics, and +likening them to the little trickery of human nature.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>8 and 9. Ground enclosed for <i>Kangaroos</i>,</p> +</div> +</div> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page149" name="page149"></a>[pg +149]</span> +<p>of which there is a little herd, large and small. They are +natives of New Holland. The fore legs are seldom more than twenty +inches in length, whilst the hinder ones are sometimes three feet +and a half long. They rest on the whole length of the hind feet, +supporting themselves by the base of the tail, which, in truth, +acts as a fifth leg, and is sometimes used as a weapon, being of +such strength as to break a man's leg at a single blow. They move +by leaps, which have been known to exceed twenty feet. Several +kangaroos have been kept in the park at Richmond, and where they +have produced young ones.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>10. <i>Dens</i></p> +</div> +</div> +<p>containing two fine <i>leopards, a porcupine</i>, and +<i>racoons</i>. In an adjoining den are three <i>wolves.</i></p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>11. Gothic House for <i>Lamas</i>.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="figure" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/330-3.png"><img width="60%" src="images/330-3.png" alt= +"Gothic House for Lamas" /></a></div> +<p>This is one of the most picturesque objects in the grounds. It +contains two lamas. These animals are common in South America, +particularly in the mountainous parts of Peru, where they are +employed as beasts of burthen. One of the lamas was presented to +the Society by the Duke of Bedford.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>12. Circular Aviary for <i>Birds of Prey</i></p> +</div> +</div> +<p>containing a <i>fine griffon vulture</i>, a white-headed +<i>North American eagle, hawks, falcons</i>, and <i>owls</i>; among +the latter is the <i>great horned owl</i>. This is supposed by +Linnaeus, and many antiquaries, to have been the bird of Minerva. +The collection is remarkably splendid.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>13. Hut for <i>Beavers</i>.</p> +<p>14. Hut for <i>Foreign Goats.</i></p> +<p>15. Enclosed Area and Fountain for <i>Aquatic Birds</i>, as +pelicans,</p> +<p>Solan geese, China geese, black swans, &c.</p> +<p>16. Aviary.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>Here are three handsome crested cranes, four Indian spoonbills, +together with three storks, three or four cockatoos, whose +brilliant plumage outvies the gayest robe of art, and three +curassos.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>17. Grove and Huts for <i>Esquimaux Dogs</i></p> +</div> +</div> +<p>of which there are three fine specimens.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>18. Fountain, &c. for <i>Water Fowl</i>.</p> +<p>19. Enclosure for <i>Zebras, Indian Cows, &c</i>.</p> +<p>20. Houses on poles for <i>Monkeys</i>.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="figure" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/330-4.png"><img width="50%" src="images/330-4.png" alt= +"Houses on poles for Monkeys" /></a></div> +<p>These are distributed beside the walks. The monkey is attached +by a chain to a ring loosely round the pole, by which means he +ascends and descends at pleasure.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>21. Intended Aviary, (supposed for <i>Eagles, Vultures</i>, +&c.).</p> +<p>22. Twenty acres about to be added.</p> +<p>23. House for <i>Monkeys, &c</i>.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>Here are double rows of cages, containing a fine South American +ocelot, a lynx, a puma, coatamondis, an ichneumon, and several +monkeys; the last affording an excellent opportunity of +appreciating the fidelity of Mr. Landseer's <i>Monkeyana,</i> and +illustrating the vraisemblance of men and monkeys.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>24. Intended Aviary.</p> +<p>25. Mexican <i>Hogs,</i> &c.</p> +<p>26. Huts for <i>Jackalls,</i> &c.</p> +<p>27. Unfinished Houses.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>The carriage-road is formed of the outer side of the Park.</p> +<p>There is likewise an enclosure for <i>Tortoises</i>, of which +there are three large and several small ones. We saw one of them +devouring pumpkin as a gourmand would turtle, and this voracity is +by weather-wise <span class="pagenum"><a id="page150" name= +"page150"></a>[pg 150]</span> people considered as a sure +indication of rain. This turtle is believed to be very old; he is +of stupendous size, but buried as he was (except his neck) with +shell, he soon became aware of the approach of his companion, +nearly as large, and accordingly ate with increased greediness. +Among the birds, too, should be mentioned several beautiful +varieties of pheasants, partridges, &c. which are well worth +the attention of the visiter.</p> +<p>We have probably passed over many animals, our object being +merely to mention a few of the most interesting for their habits +and peculiarities. Of course the collection is as yet incomplete, +there being neither lion, tiger, hyaena, elephant, nor rhinoceros; +but when it is considered that the Society has been established +little more than two years, in which time a Museum has been formed, +and 1,100 subscribers obtained, besides the arrangement of the +Gardens—it will be acknowledged that much has been done in a +short time, and judging from the excellent organization of the +Society and their past success, we anticipate the utmost +realization of their plan.</p> +<p>Our readers need not be told that the Zoological Society is +partly on the plan of the Museum of Natural History at Paris, +except that the latter is supported by the Government, the Gardens +are indiscriminately opened to the public, free of cost, and the +Museum on stated days; and when we add that the names of Fagon, +Duverney, Tournefort, Vaillant, De Jussieu, Buffon, Daubenton, +Fourcroy, Desfontaines, De Lamarck, and Cuvier, occur in its list +of professors, they will not be surprised at the Musée +d'Histoire Naturelle being the richest of its kind in the +world.</p> +<hr /> +<p>As acceptable information, we subjoin the regulations for the +admission of members and visiters to the Gardens in the Regent's +Park, and the <i>Museum</i>, in Bruton-street; to the latter we +shall allude at an early opportunity:—</p> +<p>Every member shall have personal admission to the gardens and +museum, with two companions. If accompanied by more than two, he +shall pay one shilling for each extra person.</p> +<p>A member, on payment of one guinea annually, may obtain an ivory +ticket, which will admit one named person with a companion to both +establishments; or a transferable ivory ticket which will admit one +person. He may obtain two or more such tickets at the same +rate.</p> +<p>Any member who may find it inconvenient to attend personally at +the gardens or museum, may, upon application to the council, have +his privileges transferred, within the present year, to any +individual of his family, whom he may name.</p> +<p>Every member will be expected to give his name on entering the +gardens and museum.</p> +<p>The gardens will be open to members from eight o'clock, A.M.; +but they will be in complete readiness for the reception of +visiters only from ten o'clock to sunset. The museum will be open +from ten o'clock to six.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>HERSCHEL'S TELESCOPE.</h3> +<h4>(<i>To the Editor of the Mirror.</i>)</h4> +<p>Your article on the "Patrons of Astronomy," in the Mirror, No. +328, brought to my recollection the following anecdote, for the +truth of which I can answer, having received it from Mr. Watson, +well known as the most celebrated private optical instrument maker +in Europe, and at the time living on intimate terms with the late +Mr. Arnold, the most eminent watchmaker of the day. When the late +Sir William Herschel's great telescope was first exhibited at +Slough, among other scientific men who went to see it was Mr. +Arnold, who took Mr. W. with him. Neither of them thought much of +it, though it was praised by the multitude; as it was, with its +constructor, patronized by the late king and his consort, for +Herschel was a German, as you well know. A few astronomical +amateurs, who thought as Mr. Arnold did, proposed to Mr. Adams, of +Fleet-street, then astronomical instrument maker to the king, (by +whom Mr. Watson was employed,) to get Watson to make an instrument +in opposition to Herschel's. The order being given by Adams, Watson +set about the work, and had made some progress in the construction +of the instrument, when the circumstance found its way to the ears +of royalty. Orders were immediately sent to Mr. Adams to put a stop +to the work, or he should no longer be optician to the king. Watson +did not proceed, but could never learn the cause of the +counter-order, till after a lapse of several years, when a stranger +called on him, in Valentine-place, Blackfriars-road, and after +putting several questions to him about his instruments, related to +him the cause of the counter-order; upon which Mr. Watson showed +him the progress he had made, and which I have also seen. This +story I heard related by Mr. Watson at a dinner party at Mr. +Arnold's, at Well Hall, near Eltham, where were also Mr. Dollonds, +and Mr. J. R. Arnold, the son.</p> +<p>A Constant Reader.</p> +<p>August, 24, 1828.</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page151" name="page151"></a>[pg +151]</span> +<p>Our Correspondent will perceive that we have qualified some +phrases of his letter, but that all the facts appear.</p> +<p>The <i>Quarterly Review</i>, No. 75, from which our notice was +taken, is tolerably plain upon the lack of patronage towards +astronomy in this country, and seems disposed, in enumerating the +state of astronomical knowledge in civilized Europe, to place Great +Britain beside Spain or Turkey!<a id="footnotetag4" name= +"footnotetag4"></a><a href="#footnote4"><sup>4</sup></a> We chance +to know that one of the most able and enterprising astronomers of +the present day relinquished a lucrative profession, that he might +be more at leisure to indulge his philosophical pursuits; so that, +if patrons be wanting, this apathy does not appear to have entirely +destroyed the taste for the divine study. This gentleman, in +concert with another, ascertained, in the course of three years, +the position and apparent distances of 380 double and triple stars, +the result of about 10,000 individual measurements, and for their +Memoir, they received the astronomical prize of the French Academy +of Sciences. In the following year, the former individual +communicated to the Royal Society the apparent distances and +positions of 458 double stars, of which 160 had never before been +observed.</p> +<p>Of course, our correspondent does not impeach the talent of +HERSCHEL; but it is lamentable to reflect that no attempt has been +made to repeat or extend the labours of that indefatigable +astronomer.—ED.</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>THE KELPIE.</h2> +<h3>A SCOTTISH LEGEND.</h3> +<h4>(<i>For the Mirror</i>.)</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Kelpie's a river demon or a god,"</p> +<p class="i2">Thus say the lexicons; I'll not belie 'em,</p> +<p>For though I mind not in the least the nod</p> +<p class="i2">Of these same critics, still I'll not defy 'em;</p> +<p>But that you may know more of this same god,</p> +<p class="i2">(Though I can't sing as Homer sung of Priam,)</p> +<p>I'll write a very pretty little poem,</p> +<p>Of which this present stanza's but the proem.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>But to begin, for though 'tis rather long,</p> +<p class="i2">My poem I'll comprise into twelve stanzas,</p> +<p>Or fourteen at the furthest, if my song</p> +<p class="i2">Don't run to twenty—I'll offend no man, +sirs,</p> +<p>If I can help it. So now I'm along</p> +<p class="i2">The road, and beg you'll notice these two +lancers,</p> +<p>Who, on the backs of horses full of mettle</p> +<p>Hold a dispute, which we'll leave them to settle,</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>While you go with me, reader, kind and good,</p> +<p class="i2">To a small tributary stream from Tweed,</p> +<p>Which, if you don't know, as I'm in the mood,</p> +<p class="i2">I'll do my best to teach you, if you'll read;</p> +<p>I'll introduce you to the stream Glenrude—</p> +<p class="i2">This name will do—'twas in a +glen—indeed,</p> +<p>'Twas not its proper name—'twill do quite well,</p> +<p>Why I choose so to call it I shan't tell,</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>But still it was a very pretty river,</p> +<p class="i2">Or rather stream, as ever could be seen—</p> +<p>If not so wide as the great Guadalquiver,</p> +<p class="i2">Its banks were nearly always clothed in green,</p> +<p>(Save when in winter the winds made you shiver,)</p> +<p class="i2">While the waves, bickering so bright and sheen,</p> +<p>Put you in mind of Avon, Rhine, or Hellespont,</p> +<p>Or any other stream to admire you're wont.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>And round about the stream there were huge hillocks,</p> +<p class="i2">And firs and mountains, houses too and farms;</p> +<p>A maid lay on the grass—her light and fair locks</p> +<p class="i2">Were gently wound around her folded arms,</p> +<p>While softly grazing near there stood a huge ox,</p> +<p class="i2">And o'er her head an old oak threw its arms.</p> +<p>She was asleep, when, lo! the sound of horses'</p> +<p>Feet woke her, and, behold, she saw two corses.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>At least she thought so—but at last thought better</p> +<p class="i2">'Twould be for her to get up and go home;</p> +<p>She got up quickly, and would soon have made her</p> +<p class="i2">Way home, but that the men who had just come</p> +<p>Spurr'd past her, and alighted when they met her,</p> +<p class="i2">While she with her surprise was almost dumb;</p> +<p>But soon spoke she, and bade them both disclose</p> +<p>Their names—to which one said, "I'm Richard Groze."</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>The next spoke not at first, but soon replied,</p> +<p class="i2">"Pray wherefore are you so surprised, my dear?</p> +<p>And wherefore, likewise, have you not complied</p> +<p class="i2">With my request, which I have sent in near</p> +<p>Some good score letters? which you did deride,</p> +<p class="i2">When they were forwarded by this man here."</p> +<p>He pointed then to Groze, and then he sighed,</p> +<p>"My dear, dear Jeannie, will you be my bride?"</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>The which words when our Jeannie heard, she stared,</p> +<p class="i2">And said, "What do you mean, John Fitzadree?</p> +<p>You talk of letters, but of them the laird</p> +<p class="i2">Has never brought a single one to me;</p> +<p>But when I've seen him I have never cared</p> +<p class="i2">How soon he went, for he told me that ye</p> +<p>Were either dead or faithless—so he said</p> +<p>I'd better wed the live, than mourn the dead.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"And then he promis'd I should have six horses,</p> +<p class="i2">Besides a coach, if I would be his bride;</p> +<p>But I refus'd—and he swore all his crosses</p> +<p class="i2">Should soon be o'er, and something else beside</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page152" name="page152"></a>[pg +152]</span> +<p>And that's the reason why I thought ye corses,</p> +<p class="i2">When o'er the green this way I saw ye ride.</p> +<p>But now I see you've both served in the Lancers,</p> +<p>Though on my word you look much more like dancers."</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>To which John answer'd, "Oh, the filthy fellow,</p> +<p class="i2">I gave him letters to you, which he said</p> +<p>He would deliver, were you ill or well. Oh!</p> +<p class="i2">How I should like to knock him on the head,</p> +<p>And would, but that would show I was quite mellow—</p> +<p class="i2">Besides, I see the coward has just fled,</p> +<p>Has ta'en to horse, and got across the ford—</p> +<p>Hang him, that I should with him be so bored!"</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>But Jeannie said, "John, thou shall do no murder."</p> +<p class="i2">To which he answer'd, "I will not do so;"</p> +<p>Then bounded off as though he had not heard her,</p> +<p class="i2">And reached a fording-place, but not so low</p> +<p>As where Groze cross'd, and who had now got further</p> +<p class="i2">Than John would have thought possible, although</p> +<p>He'd a good-horse, and nearly half an hour</p> +<p>In start—but now the clouds began to lower.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Now Fitzadree's good charger was all mettle,</p> +<p class="i2">And soon won to the middle of the stream—</p> +<p>But then the sky grew black as a tea kettle;</p> +<p class="i2">It rained, too, quite as fast as ever steam</p> +<p>Rose. But the thing which did at last unsettle</p> +<p class="i2">The balance of John's steed, was what you'll deem</p> +<p>A being that was nearly supernatural—</p> +<p>But here the waves John's clothes began to spatter all.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>A form rose up from out the waves' abyss—</p> +<p class="i2">A monstrous little man with a black hide,</p> +<p>Scarce four feet high, yet he was not remiss,</p> +<p class="i2">But dash'd the waves about—and then he +cried,</p> +<p>With a demoniac laugh, or rather hiss,</p> +<p class="i2">"Die, mortal, die!" and John sank down and died,</p> +<p>The which, when Jeannie saw, she only sigh'd,</p> +<p>"I come, my John, I come, to be thy bride."</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>The figure was the Kelpie—that she knew,</p> +<p class="i2">And madly she rush'd on towards the shore;</p> +<p>The Kelpie roar'd, "Come, mortal, come thou too."</p> +<p class="i2">Ere he'd done speaking, Jeannie was no more;</p> +<p>She'd dash'd into the waves, and left no clue,</p> +<p class="i2">More than a steamer leaves just left the Nore,</p> +<p>By which you might discover where she lay,</p> +<p>And drag her upwards to the realms of day.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>But what befel the cause of all these woes?</p> +<p class="i2">That's what I never heard, so cannot tell;</p> +<p>But this I know, that this same Richard Groze</p> +<p class="i2">Return'd no more to bonnie Scotland. Well,</p> +<p>I only hope he may in bed repose,</p> +<p class="i2">And that he may at last escape from hell.</p> +<p>And this I know, that if you do not smother</p> +<p>This poem, when I choose I'll write another.</p> +<p class="i10">J.S.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<h3>SUGAR AND WATER CRITICISM.</h3> +<p>In one of the critiques on the last <i>Monthly Magazine</i>, +some verses by Mrs. Hemans are said to be "elegant and +lady-like."</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>THE SKETCH BOOK</h2> +<h3>A DAY AT ST. CLOUD.</h3> +<h4><i>September</i> 24, 1826.</h4> +<blockquote> +<p>I walked up gravely to the window in my dusty black coat, and +looking through the glass, saw all the world in yellow, blue, and +green, running at the ring of pleasure.—STERNE.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>St. Cloud is the Richmond of France; or rather, it is to Paris +what Richmond, in the days of its regal splendour, was to +London—the summer palace of the court. In this comparison, +allowance must be made for the opposite building taste of each +nation; especially as Richmond has an appearance of substantial +comfort in its massive brick mansions and rusticated cottage +groups. The French <i>Sheen</i> is, on the contrary, gayer; the +exterior of the residences being whitened, or what is still more +artificial, coloured and decorated in tawdry French taste. Such, at +least, is the character of the <i>auberges</i>, or inns, and +<i>restaurateurs</i>, with which St. Cloud is even better supplied +than our Richmond. In situation, however, they strongly assimilate; +the former being placed on an acclivity overlooking the Seine, as +the latter is on the banks of the Thames.</p> +<p>St. Cloud, as I have already said, is the usual summer residence +of the French court; and with a royal liberality which might be +less politic elsewhere, the park is granted for three +fairs—September 7, and the three following Sundays, on the +last of which I resolved to visit the fête of St. Cloud. It +was a glowing September day. The sun shone with more than mellow +warmth through the groves of the Tuilleries, and on the little +southern terrace, which was unusually crowded with groups of rosy +children, with here and there a valetudinarian, who seemed to have +emerged from his chamber to enjoy the parting glories of the +season. Crowds of elegantly-dressed company were promenading the +mall, or principal walk, and some few were not incuriously +lingering about the enclosed parterres of the garden, whose +beauties would soon be transported to a milder atmosphere. There +was a general stir in the neighbouring streets; it did not resemble +the bustle of business, but had more of the gaiety of a holiday +scene. The <i>Pont Royal</i> was thronged with passengers, and just +beneath it, were several hundreds, many of whom were embarking in +the steam-boat for St. Cloud. But the Seine is at all times less +inviting for such an excursion than our Thames; and in the summer +months many insulated spots may be seen in the centre of the French +river. At the next bridge (Louis XVI.) there was a general muster +of carriages, <span class="pagenum"><a id="page153" name= +"page153"></a>[pg 153]</span> each adapted for six or eight +passengers, and drawn by one or two horses. Here was a loud clamour +of "St. Cloud" and "Versailles" among the drivers, some of whom +were even more officious than the Jehus of Greenwich, or the wights +of Charing Cross or Piccadilly. I resisted all their importunities, +and passed on through the <i>Champs Elysées</i>, or a dusty +road through a grove, intersected with ill-formed paths, with a few +gaudy cafés bearing pompous inscriptions—for Voltaire +has made the French too fond of nomenclature to say with our +Shakspeare, "what's in a name?" The road presented a strange +specimen of the insubordination of French driving, notwithstanding +police superintendants affected much concern in the matter. +Diligences, fiacres, and carriages resembling large, covered +cabriolets, might be seen loaded with gaily-dressed women and +children, with a due proportion of young Parisians, all just in the +hey-day of mirth, drawn by dust-provoking Flanders horses, their +drivers slashing almost indiscriminately, and, with their clamour +and confusion, far exceeding the Epsom road on a raceday.</p> +<p>At length, escaping from the dust and din of the French Elysium, +I halted to enjoy the distant view of the city of Paris, from the +gate of the barrier. It was indeed an interesting scene. Through +the avenue, whose area presented a living stream of traffic, might +be seen the terraces and groves of the Tuilleries, and the spacious +and irregular palace, with its cupola tops; the tarnished dome of +the Invalides; the cupola of St. Genevieve; the gray towers of +Nôtre Dame; then the winding Seine, with its bridges, quays, +and terraces, flanked with the long line of the Tuilleries, and the +Luxembourg, and Louvre galleries, on the one side; and on the other +by the noble façade of the Chamber of Deputies; the courtly +mansions of St. Germain, and the blackened front and dome of the +Institute. What a multitude of associations flitted across the +memory, by a single glance at PARIS—the capital of that gay, +light-hearted, and mercurial people—the French +nation—the focus of European luxury, and the grand political +arena of modern history, the very calendar of whose events, within +the last half century, will form one of the most interesting +episodes that ever glowed among the records of human character. In +the chain might be traced the vain-glory of conquest linked with +defeated ambition, and the sullied splendour of royalty just +breaking through the clouds of discontent, and slowly dispelling +the mists of disaffection and political prejudice. What an +unenviable contrast to the man who has "no enemy but wind and rough +weather." The same objects that prompted these discordant +reflections gave rise to others of the most opposite character; and +within the walls, where treaties, abdications, and warrants, by +turns, settled and resettled, exiled and condemned—were the +store-houses of art, with all her proud and peaceful labours of +sculpture, painting, and architecture, through galleries and +saloons, on whose contents the chisel and the pencil had lingered +many a life, and reduced the compass of its fond designs to the +cubits of a statue, the fame of a picture, or the glory of a pillar +or ceiling—such are the frail elements of human art.</p> +<p>The road now began to exhibit the usual appearance of an +approach to a country fête or fair. Scores of pedestrians, +overcome with the heat and dust of the day, might be seen at the +little boxes or shops of the <i>traiteurs</i>, or cooks, and at the +houses of the <i>marchands de vin et de la biacre</i>; these by +their anticipated anxiety caused the line from Paris to St. Cloud +to resemble a road-side fair. Cheerfulness and vivacity were +upper-most in the passengers; and the elastic pace of dozens of +gaily-dressed <i>soubrettes</i> not a little enhanced the interest +of the scene. Neither were these charms impaired by that species of +vulgarity which not unfrequently characterizes the road to our +suburban fairs; and, what is still more creditable to humanity, +there was no brutality towards jaded horses or hacks sinking +beneath their loads.</p> +<p>Historians attach some antiquarian importance to the village of +St. Cloud, it being historically confounded with the earliest times +of the French monarchy; for, from the beginning of the first race, +the kings of France had a country-seat here.<a id="footnotetag5" +name="footnotetag5"></a><a href="#footnote5"><sup>5</sup></a></p> +<p>I now reached the bridge of St. Cloud, an elegant modern +structure which crosses the Seine, near the entrance to the +village. Here the river loses much of its importance; and in +summer, the steam-boats are not unfrequently delayed in their +<i>voyage</i> (if it may be so designated) for lack of water. The +prospect of the château, or palace, embosomed in trees, and +the park variegated with natural and artificial beauties, with the +adjoining village on a steep, shelving hill—is unusually +picturesque. On the present occasion, however, the principal +attraction was the fête, which reminded me more forcibly of +John Bunyan's Vanity Fair, than any other exhibition I had ever +witnessed.</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page154" name="page154"></a>[pg +154]</span> +<p>The entrance to this motley scene was by the principal gate, +where the carriages set down their company, and at a short distance +along the bank of the river, the steam-boat in like manner +contributed its visiters. On entering the park, I was first struck +with a long row of boxes, (somewhat in the style of those at +Vauxhall) but on a raised bank, and attached to a +<i>restaurateur</i>. Here were tables for dinner, and as many +others were laid in the open air—with the usual <i>carte</i> +of 2 or 300 articles, and the economical elegancies of silver, +napkins, and china, and this, too, in style little inferior to +Verey's in the Palais Royal. Promenaders of the better description +appeared in the mall, or principal walk, and it being the last +fête of the season, their attendance was very numerous. The +stalls and exhibitions were chiefly on the left side of this walk; +at the former was displayed an almost indescribable variety of +wares, which were the adjudged prizes in a lottery; but, from the +decisions which I witnessed, they resembled the <i>stationary</i> +capitals in an English scheme—the nominal Stock in trade of +the office-keepers. Many of these little gambling shops were +superintended by women, who proved themselves far from deficient in +loquacious inducements for adventurers; and by their dexterous +settlement of the chances, left little time for losers to reflect +on their folly. Provisions of various descriptions were to be +purchased at every turn, and among their <i>marchands</i>, it was +not incurious, to see some humble professors of gastronomy over +smoking viands, fritters, and goffers or indented wafers baked on +cast-iron stoves <i>à la minute</i>—it must be owned, +unseasonable luxuries for a September day. The <i>spectacles</i>, +or shows, in noise and absurdity, exceeded the English trumpery of +that order; and to judge from the gaping crowds which they +attracted, we are not the only credulous nation in the world. Among +the games was a machine resembling an English round-a-bout, with +wooden horses for the players, each of whom was furnished with a +foil, with which he strove to seize the greatest number of rings +from the centre; this was, indeed, a chivalrous exhibition. +Stilt-walkers, mountebank families, and jugglers, "chequered in +bulk and brains," lent their aid to amuse the crowd; and, +occasionally, two or three fellows contrived to enact scenes from +plays, and with their vulgar wit to merit the applause of their +audience. Portable clock-work exhibitions swarmed, and mummeries or +mysteries, representing the Life and Death of our Saviour and the +blessed Virgin, appeared to be ritual accompaniments of the day, +and represented each stage of the holy lives. The bearers of the +latter machinery enlivened their exhibitions with a grinding organ, +which they accompanied with appropriate ditties or carols. Crosses +and other religious emblems were hung about the theatrical boxes or +shows, which, with their representations, could only be compared +with the nursery toys of Noah's ark, with which most of us have +been amused. Accordingly, here were models of Nazareth, Jerusalem, +and Mount Calvary, in the characteristic accuracy of biblical +topography, and from the zeal of the spectators, the ingenuity of +the inventors was unsparingly rewarded.</p> +<p>I turned from these sights to the natural beauties of the park, +which, aided by the happy inequalities of the ground, (which French +artists imagined would be such an obstacle to its perfection,) +possesses far more variety than is usually found in the +pleasure-grounds of France. The original plantation of the park was +the work of La Nôtre, who, it will be recollected, planned +the garden of Versailles; but St. Cloud is considered his +<i>chef-d'oeuvre</i>, and proves, that with the few natural +advantages which it afforded him, he was enabled to effect more +here than millions have accomplished at Versailles—where art +is fairly overmatched with her own wasteful and ridiculous excess. +This alone ought to make the French blush for that monument of +royal folly.</p> +<p>The situation of the château is its greatest attraction. +It possesses a fine view of Paris, which is indeed a splendid item +in the prospect of the princely occupants; and the sight of the +capital may, perhaps, be a pleasant relief to the natural seclusion +of the palace.</p> +<p>One of the most remarkable objects in the park is a kind of +square tower, surmounted with an exact copy, in <i>terra cotta</i>, +of the lantern of Diogenes at Athens, ornamented with six +Corinthian columns. It is used as an observatory, and, like its +original, is associated with the name of the illustrious +Grecian—it being also called the lantern of Diogenes. Its +view of the subjacent plain overlooks the city of Paris by a +distance of twenty miles.</p> +<p>The fountains and <i>jets d'eau</i> are entitled to special +notice, although in extent and variety they are far exceeded by +those of Versailles. The arrangement of the principal cascade is +well contrived, and I had the good fortune to be present at the +moment the water commenced flowing, which continued but a short +time. This struck me as a singular piece of mimicry, and compared +with those truly-sublime spectacles—the cascades of +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page155" name="page155"></a>[pg +155]</span> Nature—the boasted works of St. Cloud seemed mere +playthings, like the little falls which children contrive in +running brooks; or at best resembling hydraulic exhibitions on an +extensive scale. The playing commenced by a jet bursting from a +point almost secluded by trees, which appeared on a level with the +first story of the palace; the stream then fell into stone basins, +and by turns threw itself aloft, or gushed from the mouths of +numberless marine animals, and descended by glassy falls into a +basin, whence it found its way into several vase-shaped forms, and +again descended by magnificent cascades, discharging themselves +into a large, circular tank or basin, with two strong jets throwing +their limpid streams many feet high. In the sculptured forms there +is some display of classic design; and the effect of many mouths +and forms gushing forth almost instantaneously was altogether that +of magic art, not unaided by the lines of trees on two sides being +clipped or cut into semi-arched forms. The most powerful of the +fountains is, however, a grand jet, characteristically named the +<i>Geant</i>, or giant, for the incredible force with which it +springs from its basin, and rises 125 feet high, being more than +the elevation of Napoleon's triumphal column, in the Place +Vendôme, at Paris. An uninterrupted view of these exhibitions +may be enjoyed from the river, which runs parallel with the road +adjoining the park. Crowds flocked from all directions to witness +the first gush of the fountains; but their attention soon became +directed to a royal party attended by footmen, from the palace, who +came to witness the sights of the fair, and appeared especially +amused with a family of vaulters and stilt-walkers. They were +received with a slight buzz of curiosity, but without that +enthusiasm with which the English are accustomed to recognise, and, +not unfrequently, to annoy royalty; for here</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>No man cried, God save them.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>I now began to make a more minute survey of the preparations for +amusement, for the fête was not yet in its equinoctial +splendour. The most prominent of these were plots of the raised +bank on one side, and at the termination of the principal walk, +which were enclosed with hurdles or frames, a platform being +elevated and decorated with festooned curtains, &c. for an +orchestra, and the whole hung round with illumination lamps. +Towards evening, but long before dark, these enclosures were +blazing with variegated splendour; the bands commenced playing +several lively French airs, and the area was occupied with groups +of waltzing and quadrilling votaries. As the evening darkened, +lamps began to glisten in every direction, and the well-lighted +cafés resembled so many Chinese lanterns; and these, aided +by the discordant sounds of scores of instruments, gave the whole +scene an air of enchantment, or rather a slight resemblance to one +of its exorcisms. The effect was, however, improved by distance. +Accordingly, I stole through a solitary shrubbery walk, which wound +round the hill, and at length led me to a forest-like spot, or +straggling wood, which flanked the whole of the carnival. Viewed +from hence, it was, indeed, a fantastical illustration of French +gaiety, and it momentarily reminded me of some of Shakspeare's +scenes of sylvan romance, with all their fays and fairy +population.</p> +<p>The English reader who has not witnessed one of the fêtes +of St. Cloud, may probably associate them with his own Vauxhall; +but the resemblance is very slight. At one of these entertainments +in France, there is much less attempted, but considerably more +effected, than in England; and all this is accomplished by that +happy knack which the French possess of making much of a little. Of +what did this fête consist—a few hundred lamps—a +few score of fidlers, and about as much decoration as an English +showman would waste on the exterior of his exhibition, or assemble +within a few square yards. There were no long illuminated vistas, +or temples and saloons red hot with oil and gas—but a few +slender materials, so scattered and intermixed with the natural +beauties of the park, as to fascinate, and not fatigue the eye and +ear. Even the pell-mell frolics of St. Cloud were better idealities +of enjoyment, than the splendid promenade of Vauxhall, in the days +of its olden celebrity; for diamonds and feathers are often mere +masquerade finery in such scenes—so distant are the heads and +hearts of their wearers.<a id="footnotetag6" name= +"footnotetag6"></a><a href="#footnote6"><sup>6</sup></a></p> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page156" name="page156"></a>[pg +156]</span> +<p>Night, with her poetic glooms, only served to heighten the +lustre of the fairy fête; and as I receded through the wood, +the little shoal of light gleamed and twinkled through "branches +overgrown," and the distant sounds began to fall into solitary +silence—even saddening to meditation—so fast do the +dying glories of festive mirth sink into melancholy—till at +once, with the last gleam and echo, I found myself in a pleasant +little glade on the brow of the hill. The day had been unusually +hot—all was hushed stillness. But the darkening clouds were +fast gathering into black masses:—</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>The rapid lightning flames along the sky.</p> +<p>What terrible event does this portend?</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>The stifling heat of the atmosphere was, however, soon changed +by slight gusts of wind; the leaves trembled; and a few heavy drops +of rain fell as harbingers of the coming storm; the pattering +ceased; an impressive pause succeeded—broken by the deepening +roar of thunder.</p> +<p>The threatening storm hastened my return to the focus of the +carnival. The partial sprinkling had already caused many of the +dancers to withdraw to the cafés, and to the most sheltered +parts of the park. The lightning became more and more vivid; and, +at length, the thousands who had lingered in these groups of +gaiety, were fairly routed by pelting rain; and the park, with a +few lamps flickering out, and decorative finery drenched with rain, +presented a miserable contrast with the festivities of the previous +hour. The crowd streamed through the park-gate into the village, +where hundreds of competitors shouted "Paris, Paris;" and their +swarms of diligences, cabriolets, and curtained carts, were soon +freighted. One of these charioteers engaged to convey me to Paris +for half a franc, in a large, covered cart, with oil-skin curtains +to protect the passengers in front. To my surprise I found the +vehicle pre-occupied by twelve or fourteen well-dressed +persons—male and female, who appeared to forget their +inconvenient situation in sallies of laughter, which sometimes +bordered on boisterous mirth. The storm increased; lamps gleamed +and flitted across the road; many of the horses plunged with their +heavy loads, and swept along the line in resistless confusion; for +nothing can be less characteristic of timidity than French +driving.</p> +<p>On reaching Paris, the streets resembled so many torrents, and +in most places were not fordable, notwithstanding scores of +persons, with the alacrity of mushrooms after rain, had placed +themselves at the narrowest parts of the streams, with raised +planks, or temporary bridges for crossing. Our load was +<i>landed</i> under the arcade of the Hotel de Ville; but the +driver, in the genuine spirit of a London hackney-coachman, did not +forget to turn the "ill-wind" to his own account, by importuning me +for a double fare.</p> +<p>I learned that the storm had been less tremendous in its +consequences at St. Cloud and Paris than at Versailles, the +lightning having consumed a farm-house and barns near that town. It +is an event worthy of notice, from its being part of the phenomenon +of what is termed a returning stroke of lightning, the +circumstances of which are recorded in a recent number of Brande's +philosophical journal.—<i>Abridged from "Cameleon Sketches," +by the author of the "Promenade round Dorking."</i></p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>RETROSPECTIVE GLEANINGS.</h2> +<hr /> +<h3>ALFREDE AND MATYLDA.</h3> +<h4>WRITTEN BY ROBERT HAIEWOODE, OF CHEPING-TORITON, IN 1520.</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>The bryghtt enamell of the mornyng's gleame</p> +<p>Begann to daunce onn bobblynge Avonn's streame,</p> +<p>As yothefull Alfrede and Matylda fayre</p> +<p>Stoode sorowynge bie, ennobledd bie despayre:</p> +<p>Att tymes theyr lypps the tynts of Autumpe wore,</p> +<p>Att tymes a palerr hewe thann wynterr bore;</p> +<p>And faste the rayne of love bedew'dd theyr eyne,</p> +<p>As thos, in earnefull<a id="footnotetag7" name= +"footnotetag7"></a><a href="#footnote7"><sup>7</sup></a> strayns, +theyr tenes<a id="footnotetag8" name="footnotetag8"></a><a href= +"#footnote8"><sup>8</sup></a> theie dyd bewreene.<a id= +"footnotetag9" name="footnotetag9"></a><a href= +"#footnote9"><sup>9</sup></a></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>ALFREDE.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Ah! iff we parte, ne moe to meete agayne,</p> +<p>Wythyn thie wydow'dd berte wyll everr brenn</p> +<p>The frostie vygyls of a cloysterr'd nun,</p> +<p>Insteade of faerie<a id="footnotetag10" name= +"footnotetag10"></a><a href="#footnote10"><sup>10</sup></a> love's +effulgentt sonne!</p> +<p>Ne moe with myne wyll carolynge<a id="footnotetag11" name= +"footnotetag11"></a><a href="#footnote11"><sup>11</sup></a> beatt +hie,</p> +<p>Gyve throbb for throbb, and sygh returne forr sygh,</p> +<p>Butt bee bie nyghtt congeall'dd bie lethall feares,</p> +<p>Bie daie consum'dd awaie inn unavaylynge teares!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>MATYLDA.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Alas! howe soone is happlesse love ondonne,</p> +<p>Wytherr'd and deadde almostt beforre begunn:</p> +<p>Lych Marchh's openyng flowrs thatt sygh'dd forr Maie,</p> +<p>Which Apryll's teares inn angerr wash'dd awaie.</p> +<p>Onr tenes alych, alych our domes shall bee,</p> +<p>Where'err thou wander'stt I wyll followe thee;</p> +<p>And whann our sprytes throughe feere are purg'dd fromm +claie,</p> +<p>Inn pees theie shalle repose upponn the mylkie waie.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"><span class="pagenum"><a id="page157" name= +"page157"></a>[pg 157]</span> +<p>ALFREDE.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>The raynbowe hewes that payntt the laughyng mees,<a id= +"footnotetag12" name="footnotetag12"></a><a href= +"#footnote12"><sup>12</sup></a></p> +<p>The gule-stayn'dd<a id="footnotetag13" name= +"footnotetag13"></a><a href="#footnote13"><sup>13</sup></a> folyage +of the okenn trees,</p> +<p>The starrie spangells of the mornynge dewe,</p> +<p>The laverock's matyn songes and skies of blewe,</p> +<p>Maie weel the thotes of gentill shepherdds joie.</p> +<p>Whose hertes ne hopelesse loves or cares alloie;</p> +<p>Butt whatt cann seeme to teneful loverrs fayre.</p> +<p>Whose hopes butt darkenns moe the mydnyghtt of despayre?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>MATYLDA.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>To thotelesse swayns itt maie bee blyss indeede,</p> +<p>To marke the yeare through alle hys ages speede,</p> +<p>Butt everie seasone seemes alych to mee,</p> +<p>Eternall wynterr whann awaie from thee!</p> +<p>Fromm howrr to howrr I oftt beweepe ourr love,</p> +<p>Wyth all the happie sorowe of the dove,</p> +<p>And fancie, as itts sylentt waterrs flowe,</p> +<p>Mie bosome's swetestt joies mustt thos bee mientt<a id= +"footnotetag14" name="footnotetag14"></a><a href= +"#footnote14"><sup>14</sup></a> wyth woe.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Palerr thann cloudes thatt stayne the azure nyghtt,</p> +<p>Or starrs thatt shoote beneathe theyr feeble lyghtt,</p> +<p>And eke as crymson as the mornyng's rode,<a id="footnotetag15" +name="footnotetag15"></a><a href= +"#footnote15"><sup>15</sup></a></p> +<p>The lornlie<a id="footnotetag16" name= +"footnotetag16"></a><a href="#footnote16"><sup>16</sup></a> payre +inn dumbe dystracyon stoode</p> +<p>Whann onn the banke Matylda sonke and dyed,</p> +<p>And Alfrede plong'dd hys daggerr inn hys syde:</p> +<p>Hys purpell soule came roshynge fromm the wounde,</p> +<p>And o'err the lyfeless claie deathe's ensygns stream'dd +arownde.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><i>Literary Gazette.</i></p> +</div> +</div> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS</h2> +<h3>FOX HUNTING.</h3> +<p>"Well, do you know, that after all you have said, Mr. North, I +cannot understand the passion and the pleasure of fox-hunting. It +seems to me both cruel and dangerous."</p> +<p>Cruelty! Is there cruelty in laying the rein on their necks, and +delivering them up to the transport of their high +condition—for every throbbing vein is visible—at the +first full burst of that maddening cry, and letting loose to their +delight the living thunderbolts? Danger! What danger but breaking +their own legs, necks, or backs, and those of their riders? And +what right have you to complain of that, lying all your length, a +huge hulking fellow snoring and snorting half asleep on a sofa, +sufficient to sicken a whole street? What though it be but a +smallish, reddish-brown, sharp-nosed animal, with pricked-up ears, +and passionately fond of poultry, that they pursue? After the first +tallyho, Reynard is rarely seen, till he is run in upon—once +perhaps in the whole run, skirting a wood, or crossing a common. It +is an idea that is pursued, on a whirlwind of horses to a storm of +canine music,—worthy, both, of the largest lion that ever +leaped among a band of Moors, sleeping at midnight by an +extinguished fire on the African sands. There is, we verily believe +it, nothing foxy in the fancy of one man in all that glorious field +of three hundred. Once off and away—while wood and welkin +rings—and nothing is felt—nothing is imaged in that +hurricane flight, but scorn of all obstructions, dikes, ditches, +drains, brooks, palings, canals, rivers, and all the impediments +reared in the way of so many rejoicing madmen, by nature, art, and +science, in an enclosed, cultivated, civilized, and Christian +country. There they go—prince and peer, baronet and +squire,—the nobility and gentry of England, the flower of the +men of the earth, each on such steed as Pollux never reined, nor +Philip's warlike son—for could we imagine Bucephalus here, +ridden by his own tamer, Alexander would be thrown out during the +very first burst, and glad to find his way dismounted to a village +alehouse for a pail of meal and water. Hedges, trees, groves, +gardens, orchards, woods, farm-houses, huts, halls, mansions, +palaces, spires, steeples, towers, and temples, all go wavering by, +each demigod seeing, or seeing them not, as his winged steed skims +or labours along, to the swelling or sinking music, now loud as a +near regimental band, now faint as an echo. Far and wide over the +country are dispersed the scarlet runners—and a hundred +villages pour forth their admiring swarms, as the main current of +the chase roars by, or disparted runlets float wearied and all +astray, lost at last in the perplexing woods. Crash goes the +top-timber of the five-barred gate—away over the ears flies +the ex-rough-rider in a surprising somerset—after a +succession of stumbles, down is the gallant Grey on knees and nose, +making sad work among the fallow—Friendship is a fine thing, +and the story of Damon and Pythias most affecting indeed—but +Pylades eyes Orestes on his back sorely drowned in sludge, and +tenderly leaping over him as he lies, claps his hand to his ear, +and with a "hark forward, tan-tivy!" leaves him to remount, lame +and at leisure—and ere the fallen has risen and shook +himself, is round the corner of the white village-church, down the +dell, over the brook, and close on the heels of the straining pack, +all a-yell up the hill crowned by the Squire's Folly. "Every man +for himself, and God for us all," is the devout and ruling apothegm +of the day. If death befall, what wonder? since man and horse are +mortal; but death loves better a wide soft bed with quiet curtains +and darkened windows in a still room, the clergyman in the one +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page158" name="page158"></a>[pg +158]</span> corner with his prayers, and the physician in another +with his pills, making assurance doubly sure, and preventing all +possibility of the dying Christian's escape. Let oak branches smite +the too slowly stooping skull, or rider's back not timely levelled +with his steed's; let faithless bank give way, and bury in the +brook; let hidden drain yield to fore feet and work a sudden wreck; +let old coal-pit, with briery mouth, betray; and roaring river bear +down man and horse, to banks unscaleable by the very Welsh goat; +let duke's or earl's son go sheer over a quarry fifty feet deep, +and as many high; yet, "without stop or stay, down the rocky way," +the hunter train flows on; for the music grows fiercer and more +savage,—lo! all that remains together of the pack, in far +more dreadful madness than hydrophobia, leaping out of their skins, +under insanity from the scent, now strong as stink, for Vulpes can +hardly now make a crawl of it; and ere he, they, whipper-in, or any +one of the other three demoniacs, have time to look in one +another's splashed faces, he is torn into a thousand pieces, +gobbled up in the general growl; and smug, and smooth, and dry, and +warm, and cozey, as he was an hour and twenty-five minutes ago +exactly, in his furze bush in the cover,—he is now +piece-meal, in about thirty distinct stomachs; and is he not, pray, +well off for sepulture?—<i>Blackwood's Magazine</i>.</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>THE BLIND BEAUTY OF THE MOOR.</h2> +<h3>(<i>A Fragment.</i>)</h3> +<p>To thee—O palest phantom—clothed in white raiment, +not like unto a ghost risen with its grave-clothes to appal, but +like a seraph descending from the skies to bless—unto thee +will we dare to speak, as through the mist of years back comes thy +yet unfaded beauty, charming us, while we cannot choose but weep, +with the self-same vision that often glided before us long, long +ago in the wilderness, and at the sound of our voice would pause +for a little while, and then pass by, like a white bird from the +sea, floating unscared close by the shepherd's head, or alighting +to trim its plumes on a knoll far up an inland glen! Death seems +not to have touched that face, pale though it be—life-like is +the waving of those gentle hands—and the soft, sweet, low +music which now we hear, steals not sure from lips hushed by the +burial-mould! Restored by the power of love, she stands before us +as she stood of yore. Not one of all the hairs of her golden head +was singed by the lightning that shivered the tree under which the +child had run for shelter from the flashing sky. But in a moment +the blue light in her dewy eyes was dimmed—and never again +did she behold either flower or star. Yet all the images of all the +things she had loved remained in her memory, clear and distinct as +the things themselves before unextinguished eyes—and ere +three summers had flown over head, which, like the blossom of some +fair perennial flower, in heaven's gracious dew and sunshine each +season lifted its loveliness higher and higher in the +light—she could trip her singing way through the wide +wilderness, all by her joyful self, led, as all believed, nor erred +they in so believing, by an angel's hand! When the primroses peeped +through the reviving grass upon the vernal braes, they seemed to +give themselves into her hand; and 'twas thought they hung longer +unfaded round her neck or forehead than if they had been left to +drink the dew on their native bed. The linnets ceased not their +lays, though her garment touched the broomstalk on which they sung. +The cushat, as she thrid her way through the wood, continued to +croon in her darksome tree—and the lark, although just +dropped from the cloud, was cheered by her presence into a new +passion of song, and mounted over her head, as if it were his first +matin hymn. All the creatures of earth and air manifestly loved the +Wanderer of the Wilderness—and as for human beings, she was +named, in their pity, their wonder, and their delight, the Blind +Beauty of the Moor!</p> +<p>She was an only child, and her mother had died in giving her +birth. And now her father, stricken by one of the many cruel +diseases that shorten the lives of shepherds on the hills, was +bed-ridden—and he was poor. Of all words ever syllabled by +human lips, the most blessed is—Charity. No manna now in the +wilderness is rained from heaven—for the mouths of the hungry +need it not in this our Christian land. A few goats feeding among +the rocks gave them milk, and there was bread for them in each +neighbour's house—neighbour though miles afar—as the +sacred duty came round—and the unrepining poor sent the +grateful child away with their prayers.</p> +<p>One evening, returning to the hut with her usual song, she +danced up to her father's face on his rushy bed, and it was cold in +death. If she shrieked—if she fainted—there was but one +ear that heard, one eye that saw her in her swoon. Not now floating +light like a small moving cloud unwilling to leave the flowery +braes, though it be to melt in heaven, but <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page159" name="page159"></a>[pg 159]</span> driven +along like a shroud of flying mist before the tempest, she came +upon us in the midst of that dreary moss; and at the sound of our +quaking voice, fell down with clasped hands at our feet—"My +father's dead!" Had the hut put already on the strange, dim, +desolate look of mortality? For people came walking fast down the +braes, and in a little while there was a group round us, and we +bore her back again to her dwelling in our arms. As for us, we had +been on our way to bid the fair creature and her father farewell. +How could she have lived—an utter orphan—in such a +world! The holy power that is in Innocence would for ever have +remained with her; but Innocence longs to be away, when her sister +Joy has departed; and 'tis sorrowful to see the one on earth, when +the other has gone to heaven! This sorrow none of us had long to +see; for though a flower, when withered at the root, and doomed ere +eve to perish, may yet look to the careless eye the same as when it +blossomed in its pride,—its leaves, still green, are not as +once they were,—its bloom, though fair, is faded—and at +set of sun, the dews shall find it in decay, and fall unfelt on all +its petals. Ere Sabbath came, the orphan child was dead. Methinks +we see now her little funeral. Her birth had been the humblest of +the humble; and though all in life had loved her, it was thought +best that none should be asked to the funeral of her and her +father, but two or three friends; the old clergyman himself walked +at the head of the father's coffin—we at the head of the +daughter's—for this was granted unto our exceeding +love;—and thus passed away for ever the Blind Beauty of the +Moor!—<i>Ibid</i>.</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>THE GATHERER</h2> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>A snapper up of unconsidered trifles,</p> +<p>SHAKSPEARE.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<h3>EPICURISM.</h3> +<h4>(<i>For the Mirror</i>.)</h4> +<p>At a public dinner, Captain R. commencing a conversation with a +gentleman next to him, was astonished at not being able to elicit +one word in answer. At length his silent neighbour turned to him, +and said, with a look and tone suitable to the <i>importance</i> of +the communication, "Sir, whenever you are at a venison feast, let +me advise you <i>never to speak during dinner</i>. In endeavouring +to reply to you, I have actually at this moment swallowed +<i>entire</i> a fine piece of fat, <i>without tasting it</i>!"</p> +<p>J.G.R.</p> +<hr /> +<p>An Englishman, named <i>Drinkwater</i>, was nearly drowned the +other day off Boulogne; on hearing which, a wag observed that he +had "almost taken a drop too much."</p> +<hr /> +<h3>FLY WATER.</h3> +<p>Prussic Acid has been obtained from the leaves of <i>green +tea</i>, in so concentrated a state, that one drop killed a dog +almost instantaneously. A strong infusion of Souchong tea, +sweetened with sugar, is as effectual in poisoning flies as the +solution of arsenic, generally sold for that purpose.</p> +<hr /> +<p>There may now be seen, written on a board on a new house in the +Blackfriars-road, the following words:—"Hird robeish may be +had heare."</p> +<p>BILLY.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>NO JOKE OR RIDDLE.</h3> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>A house with wings extended wide,</p> +<p class="i2">A racket-ground to play in,</p> +<p>Two porters' lodges there beside,</p> +<p class="i2">And porters always staying</p> +<p>To guard the inmates there within,</p> +<p class="i2">And keep them from the town;</p> +<p>From duns as free as saints from sin,</p> +<p class="i2">And sheriffs of renown.</p> +<p>To get white wash'd it is their plan,</p> +<p class="i2">'Tis such a cleansing thing—</p> +<p>Then out they come with blacker hands</p> +<p class="i2">Than when they first went in.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>P.H.H.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<p>The following lines are copied from a seat in Greenwich Park, +written in chalk; and from their style, they may be supposed to +have been written by one who meditated suicide:—</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Oh! deaf to nature and to heav'n's command,</p> +<p>Against thyself to lift the murd'ring hand,</p> +<p>Oh! damn'd despair to shun the living light,</p> +<p>And plunge thy guilty soul to endless night.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>Written also in the same hand:—Charlotte Rumpling, you did +not use me well, but I forgive you—God bless you.</p> +<p>EDWIN W——.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>WANTS A WIFE.</h3> +<p>She must bee middel eaged and good tempered widdow, or a Maid, +and pursest of propertey, and I wood far reather have a Wife that +is ever so plain then a fine Lady that think herself hansom; the +Advertiser is not rich nor young, old nor poor, and in a very few +years he will have a good incumb. Can be hiley reckamended for +onestey, sobrieaty, and good temperd, and has no in combranc, is +very actif, but not a treadesman, have <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page160" name="page160"></a>[pg 160]</span> been as Butler and +Bailiff for meney years in most respectable families, and shood I +not be so luckey as to get me a wife, wood be most willing to take +a sitteyeashan once moor, wood prefer living in the countrey, under +stands Brewing feamosley, is well adapted for a inn or publick +hous. Please to derect W.W., 268, Berwick-street, Oxford-roade, or +aney Ladey may call and have a interview with the widdow that keeps +the hous, and say wher and when we can meet each other. All letters +must be pd, no Ofice-keeper to applygh. My fameley ar verey well +off and welthey, far above the midling order.</p> +<p>This is a good joke upon <i>Matrimonial Advertising</i>.</p> +<hr /> +<p>Jack Bannister visited the Haymarket theatre on Wednesday night, +August 20, and made in the free-list book the following +entry:—"Fifty years ago, in the year 1778, I made my first +appearance at this theatre. Half a century is not bad. Hurra!! John +Bannister."</p> +<hr /> +<h3>ALPHABETICAL AGREEMENT.</h3> +<p>In reading over an agreement, for letting a house, the other +day, the initials of the party letting it were A.B., of the party +taking C.D., and of the witness to the signatures E.F.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>OBSTINACY AND PERSEVERANCE.</h3> +<p>Obstinacy and perseverance, though often confounded, are two +very different things; a man may be very obstinate, and yet not +persevere in his opinion ten minutes. Obstinacy is resistance to +truth; perseverance is a continuance in truth or error.</p> +<p>T.C.C.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>IDOLATRY.</h3> +<p>The origin of idolatry is by many attributed to the age of Eber, +though most of the fathers place it no higher than that of Serug; +but it appears to me certain, that image worship existed in the +time of Jacob, from the account of Rachel taking images along with +her on leaving her father's house, which is given in the book of +Genesis.</p> +<p>T.C.C.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>ORIGIN OF THE WORD GALLIMATHIAS.</h3> +<p>This word, which signifies nonsense, <i>alias</i> talk without +meaning, is supposed to have first arisen at the time when all +pleadings at the bar were in Latin. There was a cause, it seems, +about a cock, belonging to the plaintiff Matthias; the counsel, in +the heat of the harangue, by often repeating the words +<i>gallus</i> and <i>Matthias</i>, happened to blunder, and, +instead of saying <i>gallus Matthiae</i>, said <i>galli +Matthias</i>, which at length became a general name for all +confused, embroiled language and discourse.</p> +<p>P.T.W.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>SALLIE TO JOHN.</h3> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Changed ere long shall my fortunes be,</p> +<p>Yet my faith is firm—I will go with thee.</p> +<p>I yield not weakly to fancy's trance,</p> +<p>Or the fitful flame of young romance;</p> +<p>I dwell with a calm, unshrinking mind</p> +<p>On the scenes that I seek and leave behind;</p> +<p>My future fate spread forth I see,</p> +<p>And my choice is fix'd—I will go with thee.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>I have thought on this hour with many a tear,</p> +<p>In the timid weakness of woman's fear;</p> +<p>It comes, and I rise, the test above,</p> +<p>In the dauntless strength of woman's love.</p> +<p>Gaze not upon me with looks so sad—</p> +<p>My step is firm, and my heart is glad;</p> +<p>This last, last sigh for my home shall be—</p> +<p>Past is the trial—I go with thee.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p><i>Dublin</i>.</p> +<p>JAN RHI.</p> +<hr /> +<p>Diogenes was not in the wrong, who, when the great Alexander, +finding him in the charnel-house, asked him what he was seeking +for, answered, "I am seeking for your father's bones, and those of +my slave; but I cannot find them, because there is no difference +between them."</p> +<p>G.K.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>GETTING A JOURNEY.</h3> +<h4><i>By Dr. Kitchiner</i>.</h4> +<p>I GOT on horseback within ten minutes after I received your +letter. When I GOT to Canterbury, I GOT a chaise for town. But I +GOT wet through before I GOT to Canterbury, and I have GOT such a +cold as I shall not be able to GET rid of in a hurry. I GOT to the +Treasury about noon, but first of all I GOT shaved and drest. I +soon GOT into the secret of GETTING a memorial before the board, +but I could not GET an answer then; however, I GOT intelligence +from the messenger that I should most likely GET one next morning. +As soon as I GOT back to my inn, I GOT my supper and GOT to bed. It +was not long before I GOT to sleep. When I GOT up in the morning, I +GOT my breakfast, and then GOT myself drest, that I might GET out +in time, to GET an answer to my memorial. As soon as I GOT it, I +GOT into the chaise, and GOT home by three o'clock.</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote1" name= +"footnote1"></a> <b>Footnote 1</b>:<a href= +"#footnotetag1">(return)</a> +<p>"When Nero exhibited himself as a singer and flute-player on the +stage at Naples, the musicians of that province assembled to hear +him; and Suetonius tells us that the emperor selected <i>five +thousand</i> among the best to be his household musicians, and +clothed them in a rich and uniform dress."</p> +</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote2" name= +"footnote2"></a> <b>Footnote 2</b>:<a href= +"#footnotetag2">(return)</a> +<p>It should, however, be noticed, that the object of the +<i>Zoological Society</i> is not the mere exhibition of animals. In +the original prospectus it is observed, that "Animals brought from +every part of the globe to be applied to some <i>useful</i> purpose +as objects of scientific research, not of vulgar admiration; and +upon such an institution, a philosophy of zoology founded, pointing +out the comparative anatomy, the habits of life, the improvement +and the methods of multiplying those races of animals which are +most useful to man, and thus fixing a most beautiful and important +branch of knowledge on the permanent basis of direct utility." The +Secretary of the Society is N.A. Vigors, Esq., M.A., F.R.S., +&c. who, from his extensive attainments in the science of +zoology, fills the office with honor to himself, and peculiar +advantage to the public.</p> +</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote3" name= +"footnote3"></a> <b>Footnote 3</b>:<a href= +"#footnotetag3">(return)</a> +<p>He was previously at Sudborne, the seat of the Marquess of +Hertford, where Toby, as our Russian friend was christened, became +equally sagacious with bipeds, in distinguishing strong ale from +small beer. To the former beverage, Toby became freely attached; +but when we saw him at the Gardens in the Regent's Park, he +appeared too docile for his companions.</p> +</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote4" name= +"footnote4"></a> <b>Footnote 4</b>:<a href= +"#footnotetag4">(return)</a> +<p>We feel as if it were a species of treason to record the fact, +that, within the wide range of the British islands, <i>there is +only one observatory, and scarcely one, supported by the +government</i>! We say scarcely one, because we believe that some +of the instruments in the observatory of Greenwich were purchased +out of the private funds of the Royal Society of London. The +observatories of Oxford, Cambridge, Dublin, Edinburgh (except a +grant of 2,000<i>l</i>.), Armagh, and Glasgow, are all private +establishments, to the support of which government contributes +nothing. The consequence of this is, that many of them are in a +state of comparative inactivity; and none of them, but that of +Dublin, have acquired any celebrity in the astronomical world. +Such, indeed, was the state of practical astronomy in Scotland, +that within these few years, a Danish vessel, which arrived at +Leith, could not obtain, even in Edinburgh, the time of the day for +the purpose of setting its chronometers.—<i>Q. Rev.</i></p> +</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote5" name= +"footnote5"></a> <b>Footnote 5</b>:<a href= +"#footnotetag5">(return)</a> +<p>For an engraving and account of the Palace of St. Cloud, see +MIRROR, vol. ii. page 225.</p> +</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote6" name= +"footnote6"></a> <b>Footnote 6</b>:<a href= +"#footnotetag6">(return)</a> +<p>We are not permitted to allude to the fête of St. Cloud as +a scene of <i>pastoral</i> amusement, or of the primitive +simplicity which is associated with that epithet. The French are +not a pastoral people, although they are not less so than the +English; neither are the suburbs of a metropolis rural life. They +are too near the pride of human art for pastoral pleasures, and no +aristocracy is more infested with little tyrants than the +neighbourhood of great cities, the oppressors being too timid to +trust themselves far out of the verge of public haunts, in the +midst of which they would be equally suspicious.</p> +<p>Amusements are at all times among the best indications of +national character; a truth which the ancients seem to have +exaggerated into their maxim <i>in vino veritas</i>. Here the +national comparison is not "odious." Three Sunday fairs are held +within six miles of Paris, in a park, as was once the custom at +Greenwich: the latter, though a royal park, does not boast of the +residence of royalty, as does St Cloud. The objection to the day of +the French fêtes is cleared by another argument. But what +would be the character of a week-day fair, or fête, in +Kensington Gardens? The intuitive answer will make the moral +observer regret that man should so often place the interdict on his +own happiness, and then peevishly repine at his uncheery lot.</p> +</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote7" name= +"footnote7"></a> <b>Footnote 7</b>:<a href= +"#footnotetag7">(return)</a> +<p>Tender.</p> +</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote8" name= +"footnote8"></a> <b>Footnote 8</b>:<a href= +"#footnotetag8">(return)</a> +<p>Woes.</p> +</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote9" name= +"footnote9"></a> <b>Footnote 9</b>:<a href= +"#footnotetag9">(return)</a> +<p>Express.</p> +</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote10" name= +"footnote10"></a> <b>Footnote 10</b>:<a href= +"#footnotetag10">(return)</a> +<p>Fiery.</p> +</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote11" name= +"footnote11"></a> <b>Footnote 11</b>:<a href= +"#footnotetag11">(return)</a> +<p>Dancing.</p> +</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote12" name= +"footnote12"></a> <b>Footnote 12</b>:<a href= +"#footnotetag12">(return)</a> +<p>Meadows.</p> +</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote13" name= +"footnote13"></a> <b>Footnote 13</b>:<a href= +"#footnotetag13">(return)</a> +<p>Blood-coloured.</p> +</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote14" name= +"footnote14"></a> <b>Footnote 14</b>:<a href= +"#footnotetag14">(return)</a> +<p>Mingled.</p> +</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote15" name= +"footnote15"></a> <b>Footnote 15</b>:<a href= +"#footnotetag15">(return)</a> +<p>Complexion.</p> +</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote16" name= +"footnote16"></a> <b>Footnote 16</b>:<a href= +"#footnotetag16">(return)</a> +<p>Forlorn.</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> +<hr class="full" /> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11389 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/11389-h/images/330-1.png b/11389-h/images/330-1.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..48f3394 --- /dev/null +++ b/11389-h/images/330-1.png diff --git a/11389-h/images/330-2.png b/11389-h/images/330-2.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5f22f2b --- /dev/null +++ b/11389-h/images/330-2.png diff --git a/11389-h/images/330-3.png b/11389-h/images/330-3.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7f9acbf --- /dev/null +++ b/11389-h/images/330-3.png diff --git a/11389-h/images/330-4.png b/11389-h/images/330-4.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c128218 --- /dev/null +++ b/11389-h/images/330-4.png |
