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diff --git a/11530-h/11530-h.htm b/11530-h/11530-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e40d47a --- /dev/null +++ b/11530-h/11530-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1527 @@ +<!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, Volume XIX. No. 529.</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;} + .poem p.i14 {margin-left: 9em;} + + .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 11530 ***</div> + +<hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page17" name="page17"></a>[pg +17]</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. XIX. No. 529.]</b></td> +<td align="center"><b>SATURDAY, JANUARY 14, 1832.</b></td> +<td align="right"><b>[PRICE 2d.</b></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>FISHMONGER'S HALL</h2> +<div class="figure" style="width:80%;"><a href= +"images/529-001.png"><img width="100%" src="images/529-001.png" +alt="FISHMONGERS' HALL." /></a></div> +<h4>FISHMONGERS' HALL.</h4> +<div class="figure" style="width:60%;"><a href= +"images/529-002.png"><img width="100%" src="images/529-002.png" +alt="ARMS OF THE COMPANY." /></a></div> +<h4>ARMS OF THE COMPANY.</h4> +<p>These Cuts may be welcome illustrations of the olden +magnificence of the City of London. The first represents the river +or back front of the Hall of the Fishmongers' Company: the second +cut, the arms of the Company, is added by way of an illustrative +pendent. These insignia are placed over the entrance to the Hall in +Lower Thames-street; they are sculptured in bold relief, and are +not meanly executed. The Hall, or the greater part of it, has been +taken down to make room for the New London Bridge approaches; the +frame-work of the door, and the arms still remain—<i>stat +portus umbra</i>.</p> +<p>The Hall merits further notice; not so much for its +architectural pretensions as for its being the commencement of a +plan which it could be wished had been <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page18" name="page18"></a>[pg 18]</span> completed. The reader may +probably remember that after the Great Fire of London, the King +(Charles II.) desired WREN, in addition to his designs for St. +Paul's, to make an accurate survey and drawing of the whole area +and confines of the waste metropolis; and "day, succeeding day, +amidst ashes and ruins, did this indefatigable man labour to fulfil +his task." He prepared his plans for rebuilding the city, and laid +them before the King. That part of Sir Christopher's plan which +relates to the present subjects, was as follows: "By the +water-side, from the bridge to the Temple, he had planned a long +and broad wharf or quay, where he designed to have arranged all the +halls that belong to the several companies of the city, with proper +warehouses for merchants between, to vary the edifices, and make it +at once one of the most beautiful ranges of structure in the +world." <a id="footnotetag1" name="footnotetag1"></a> <a href= +"#footnote1"><sup>1</sup></a> King Charles, however, as Mr. +Cunningham observes, "was never obstinate in any thing for his +country's good," and the idea was dropped: but Wren erected the +above Hall as a specimen of his intention of ornamenting the banks +of the Thames. The original hall was destroyed by the Great +Fire.</p> +<p>The ancient importance of the Fishmongers' Company may be thus +explained:—</p> +<p>During the days of papacy in England, fish was an article not of +optional, but compulsive consumption, and this rendered the +business of a fishmonger one of the principal trades of London. +Fish Street Hill, and the immediate vicinity, was the great mart +for this branch of traffic, from its close connexion with the +river, and here lived many illustrious citizens, particularly Sir +William Walworth, and Sir Stephen Fisher.</p> +<p>Strong prejudices were however entertained against the +fishmongers, and to so great an extent was it carried, that in the +fourteenth century, they prayed the king, by Nicholas Exton, one of +their body, that he would take the company under his protection, +"lest they might receive corporeal hurt." The parliament itself +appears to have imbibed the general distrust, for in 1382 they +enacted, "that no fishmonger should be mayor of the city." This was +repealed, however, the following year.</p> +<p>The fishmongers consisted of two companies, the salt +fishmongers, incorporated in 1433, and the stock fishmongers in +1509. The two companies were united by Henry VIII. in 1536. Before +the junction, they are said by Stow, who calls them "jolly +citizens," to have had six halls, two in Thames Street, two in Fish +Street, and two in Old Fish Street, and six lord-mayors were +elected from their body in twenty-four years. But being charged +with forestalling, contrary to the laws and constitutions of the +city, they were fined five hundred marks by Edward I. in 1290. In +1384, these, as well as others concerned in furnishing the city +with provisions, were put under the immediate direction of the +mayor and aldermen, by an act of parliament still in force. <a id= +"footnotetag2" name="footnotetag2"></a> <a href= +"#footnote2"><sup>2</sup></a></p> +<p>The Hall, on the west side of the ward of Bridge Within, was of +brick and stone, and may be said to have had two fronts. The fore +entrance was from Thames Street by a handsome passage, leading into +a large square court, encompassed by the Great Hall, the Court +Room, and other grand apartments, with galleries. The back, or +river front, had a double flight of stone steps, by which was an +ascent to the first apartments. The door was ornamented with Ionic +columns supporting an open pediment, in which was a shield, with +the arms of the company. The building was finished with handsomely +rusticated stone, and had a noble effect.</p> +<p>The Hall was of capacious proportions, and extended nearly the +whole length of the building. The ceiling, as well as that of the +adjoining Court Room, exhibited some fine specimens of old +plaster-work. We witnessed the dismantling of the premises previous +to their being taken down. It was indeed a sorry breaking up. The +long tables which had so often, to use a hackneyed phrase, +"groaned" beneath the weight of civic fare—the cosy +high-backed stuffed chairs which had held many a portly +citizen—nay, the very soup-kettles and venison +dishes—all were to be submitted to the noisy ordeal of the +auction hammer.</p> +<p>We remember in the upper end of the hall, and just behind the +chair, there stood in a niche, a full-sized statue, carved in wood +by Edward Pierce, statuary, of Sir William Walworth, a member of +this company, and lord-mayor during the rebellion of Wat Tyler. The +knight grasped a real dagger, said to be the identical weapon with +which he stabbed the rebel; though a publican of Islington +pretended to be possessed of this dagger, and in 1731, lent it to +be publicly exhibited in Smithfield, in a show called "Wat Tyler," +during Bartholomew <span class="pagenum"><a id="page19" name= +"page19"></a>[pg 19]</span> Fair. Below the niche was this +inscription:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i2">"Brave Walworth, knight, lord-mayor, yt slew</p> +<p class="i2">Rebellious Tyler in his alarms;</p> +<p>The king, therefore, did give in lieu</p> +<p class="i2">The dagger to the cytye's arms.</p> +<p>In the 4th year of Richard II. Anno Domini 1381."</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>A common, but erroneous belief is perpetuated in this +inscription, for the dagger was in the city arms long before the +time of Sir William Walworth, and was intended to represent the +sword of St. Paul, the patron saint of the corporation.</p> +<p>The funeral pall of Sir W. Walworth curiously embroidered with +gold, is preserved amongst the relics, as well as a plan of the +splendid show at his installation, 1380.</p> +<p>The Fishmongers' Company is fourth upon the list of the city +corporations, under the name and style of "the Wardens and +Commonalty of the mystery of Fishmongers of the city of London." It +is a livery company, and very rich, governed by a prime and five +other wardens, and a court of assistants.</p> +<p>The company supports a free Grammar School at Holt Market, in +Norfolk, founded by Sir John Gresham; Jesus Hospital, at Bray, in +Berkshire, founded by William Goddard, Esq. for forty poor persons; +St. Peter's Hospital, near Newington, Surrey, founded by the +company; twelve alms-houses at Harrietsham, in Kent, founded by Mr. +Mark Quested; a fellowship in Sidney-Sussex College, Cambridge +founded by Mr. Leonard Smith; a scholarship in the same college, +founded by William Bennet, Esq. Mr. Smith, executor.</p> +<p>The <i>Arms</i> of the Company are in a shield supported by a +merman and mermaid, the latter with a mirror in her hand. The Keys +refer to St. Peter, the Patron Saint of the Company.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>HOLY SEPULCHRE, HECKINGTON CHURCH.</h3> +<h4>(<i>To the Editor.</i>)</h4> +<p>From the description of the Holy Sepulchre in Heckington Church, +given in your last volume, stating that it stood there in the +summer of 1789, such of your readers as have no means of knowing to +the contrary, may infer that it is not now in existence. <a id= +"footnotetag3" name="footnotetag3"></a> <a href= +"#footnote3"><sup>3</sup></a> I am led to trouble you with a few +lines on the subject, as this specimen still in the best +preservation, deserves us full an account as your limits will +admit. The sepulchre nearly, and the stalls also mentioned by you, +which have been cleaned completely, remain now in the same state as +the artist originally left them. An architect, Mr. T. Rickman, who +visited the neighbourhood a short time ago, gives the following +account, which was printed in a work <a id="footnotetag4" name= +"footnotetag4"></a> <a href="#footnote4"><sup>4</sup></a> on the +topography of the neighbourhood, soon after his visit: he says, +"The sepulchre, of which there are not many specimens now +remaining, consists of a series of richly ornamented niches, the +largest of which represents the tomb, having angels standing beside +it; the side niches have the Maries and other appropriate figures, +and in the lower niches are the Roman soldiers reposing; these +niches have rich canopies, and are separated by buttresses and rich +finials, having all the spaces covered by very rich foliage." He +further observes, that "the stalls exhibit a specimen of pure +decorated work, as rich as the finest sculpture of foliage and +small figures can render it, and hardly surpassed by any in the +kingdom, and the sepulchre is of the same excellent character. The +various small ornaments about these stalls and niches form one of +the best possible studies for enrichments of this date: and it is +almost peculiar to this church, that there is nothing about it, +except what is quite modern, that is not of the same style of +architecture."</p> +<p>As the above gentleman's description of the present state of the +church at Heckington will give a clearer idea of many others in the +county of Lincoln, we perhaps cannot do better than close this +account with it. "This beautiful church, of pure decorated +character, is one of the most perfect models in the kingdom, +having, with one exception, (that of the groined or interior +ceiling which is wanting, and appears never to have been prepared +for,) every feature of a fine church, of one uniform style, without +any admixture of <i>later</i> or <i>earlier</i> work. Its +mutilations are comparatively small, consisting only in the +destruction of the tracey of the north transept window, and some +featherings in other windows, and the building and wall to enclose +a vestry. The plan of the church is a west tower and spire, nave +and aisles, spacious transepts, and a large chancel, with a vestry +attached to <span class="pagenum"><a id="page20" name= +"page20"></a>[pg 20]</span> the north side. The nave has a well +proportioned clesestory. There is a south porch, a rich font, the +tomb of an ecclesiastic, and the assemblage of niches before +described. In the chancel and some of the church walls are very +good brackets. The vestry has a crypt below it. Fully to describe +this church would require a much larger space than can be allotted +to it, but it may be well to remark, that every part of the design +and execution is of the very best character, equal to any in the +kingdom."</p> +<p>That this church was built on or near to the site of the one +given by Gilbert de Guant, the style of architecture being of much +later date, fully demonstrates; and it is more than probable that +on its rebuilding, the patent of Edward III. was obtained. Certain +it is that no specimen of an earlier style now remains; but +tradition says that the foundation of the church was laid in the +year 1101, and the building completed in A.D. 1104, at a cost only +of £433. 9<i>s</i>. 7<i>d</i>. This statement, if worthy of +credit, must be referred to an earlier and less costly edifice than +the present.</p> +<p>J.H.S.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>TRAVELING NOTES IN SOUTH WALES.</h3> +<h4>(<i>To the Editor.</i>)</h4> +<p>Guernsey, Dec. 17, 1831.</p> +<p>Your ingenious and talented correspondent, <i>Vyvyan</i>, in +writing on the shrimp, (the <i>Mirror</i>, p. 361, vol. xviii.) +remarks that "The sea roamer may often have observed numbers of +little air-holes in the sand, which expand as the sun advances. If +he stirs it with his foot, he will cause a brood of young shrimps, +who will instantly hop and jump about the beach in the most lively +manner," &c.: these "jumpers" as they are facetiously called, +are not shrimps, but sea-fleas, and they possess the elasticity for +which their namesakes are so remarkable. They are as different as +possible from young shrimps; and if "old shrimps" <i>could</i> +"tell tales," I doubt not but that on inquiring of them, they would +tell their "companions at breakfast table" the same thing. Your +correspondent further adds, that "strange stories are told of the +<i>old</i> shrimp," and I think, on investigation, he will find +that he has told a very "strange story" of <i>young</i> shrimps. In +a future communication I will give you a correct account or history +of the shrimp, (if it be acceptable,) from the time when it is +first spawned until it arrives at perfection.</p> +<p>H.W.</p> +<h4><i>(To the Editor.)</i></h4> +<p><i>Vyvyan</i> has not in his <i>Notes</i> named any county but +South Wales, generally, where he says, "Any person who can enclose +a portion of land around his cottage or otherwise, in one night, +becomes owner thereof in fee." These persons in Wales are called +Encroachers, and are liable to have ejectments served upon them by +the Lord of the Manor, (which is often the case) to recover +possession. The majority of the Encroachers pay a nominal yearly +rent to the Lord of the Manor for allowing them to occupy the land. +If they possess these encroachments for sixty years without any +interruption, or paying rent, then they become possessed of the +same. It is usual to present the Encroachments at a Court Leet held +for the manor, and upon perambulating the manor, which is generally +done every three or four years, these encroachments are thrown out +again to the waste or common.</p> +<p>J.P.</p> +<p>*** We readily insert these corrections of Vyvyan's "Notes," +especially as we believe our readers to take considerable interest +in their accuracy.</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>THE SKETCH-BOOK.</h2> +<hr /> +<h3>MY FIRE.</h3> +<h4><i>(For the Mirror.)</i></h4> +<p>On new year's morning, soon after daybreak, I entered my study, +which is a little room some eight feet square, and from a wayward +fancy of my own, closely resembles the cell of an alchymist. Its +walls are hung with black drapery, on which appear the mystical +signs of the planetary bodies, Hebrew, Persian, and various +cabalistic characters, the dark enigmas of the work of +transmutation, and the invocations or prayers for success employed +by the alchymist. Here and there pieces of their quaint and uncouth +shaped apparatus, the aludel, the alembic, and the alkaner, the +pelican, the crucible, and the water-bath, occupy their respective +stations. The clumsy, heavy, oaken table in the centre is covered +with copies of scarce and valuable alchymical tracts, in company +with the <i>caput mortum</i> and the hour-glass. A few antiques, +consisting of half-a-dozen cloth-yard arrows, the stout yew bow of +the green clad yeoman, the ponderous <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page21" name="page21"></a>[pg 21]</span> mace and helmet of the +valiant knight, and other relics of the days of chivalry, complete +the decorations of this my sanctum.</p> +<p>In consequence of its dark and gloomy aspect, and the feeling of +awe with which the family and servants regard its mystical +contents, I have its undisturbed enjoyment; nobody feels a wish to +enter it even in the day time, and I verily believe they would not +do so at the witching hour of night, lest the mystical signs should +take summary vengeance on their unhallowed intrusion.</p> +<p>The neighbours imagine me to be an adept in the "black art," an +astrologer, or a fortune-teller, but I have no pretentions whatever +to any such titles; this report has got abroad in consequence of a +maid-servant having once had the temerity to peep through the +key-hole, and observed on the wall opposite her "line of sight," +some triangular characters. She had been in the habit of poring +over a dream book, and the art of casting nativities; the Prophetic +Almanac was her oracle, and its terrific title-page she informed +her fellow servant "had just those queer triangle things as was +hung on the walls of young master's study." She was "sure that he +could tell her fortune." This important intelligence, delivered +with due confidence to her fellow servant, of course spread like +wildfire among the other occupants of the "lower regions," and from +them amongst the handmaidens of sundry other dwellings. Thus has my +astrological character been established.</p> +<p>As all domestics are excluded my sanctum, of course I am obliged +to "do for myself," and this I prefer to being "done for," or +having my room "set to rights," according to their notions of +neatness; my feelings on this point are exactly those of Scott's +<i>Antiquary</i>; I therefore "do for myself," and consequently, it +follows I must light my own fire. Than on the morning I have +mentioned, the "grand agent" of the chemist was never more +required. The "air bit shrewdly, and it was "bitter cold" upon +entering the sanctum, although I had not quitted it many hours, +having watched the "old year out and the new year in," and then +taken a short nap; yet Jack Frost had been active during my +absence, and cooled down the air of the sanctum some degrees below +the freezing point, at the same time coating the window panes with +his beautiful crystalline figures. The dark walls did look most +awful, seen through the dun yellow light of the fog, which met my +view upon drawing aside the cabalistically hung curtains. I cast a +look at the Rumford grate; its black cold bars "grinned most +horrible and ghastly." A sympathy was instantly established between +them and my nasal organ, for I found a drop of pure crystal pendant +from its extremity. Here, thought I, is an admirable question for +"<i>The Plain Why and Because</i>." <i>Why</i> does a drop of water +hang from the nose on a frosty morning? Because the natural heat of +the body sends up vapour into the head, and that being exposed most +to cold, the vapour condenses, and a drop of water runs from the +nostril, as it would do from the head of a still. Upon looking at +anything very cold, sympathy excites the same action. This "Why and +Because" was succeeded by another—Why does my fire-grate grin +so coldly? Because you will not be "done for," else Eliza could +have raised a flame there for you an hour ago. The truth of this +reply was so forcible that I resolved to "do for myself" without +delay, and evolve the "grand agent." I went to the door, expecting +to see my usual supply of fuel; none was to be found. What means +this? said I, and was about to make my wants known, but changed my +intent as quickly, and being a little excited by such neglect, +determined not to be dependent upon the domestics, but make a fire +of my own. Now then for the materials. Paper, as all persons know, +who have "lit their own fires," is the foundation; it was also +mine: sundry letters in reply to sundry unsuccessful applications +written on "thick double laid post," as the advertisements say, I +seized upon, and thrust their crumpled forms between the sooty bars +of the grate with some wood, the model of a mechanical invention of +my own, which had been rejected by a Society, and why, I knew not; +I severed limb from limb, and disposed their fragments across and +athwart on the letters previously mutilated. How to obtain my coal +posed me for a moment; but I recollected that in a geological +cabinet under my window, I was the possessor of a mass of pure +Staffordshire, weighing some twenty pounds. The doors of the +cabinet flew open, and out it came; I had a strong affection for +this lump of coal, having extracted it myself from the mines, and +carried it many a weary mile on my return home. I felt loth to +commit it to the flames; but this was necessity, "stern necessity:" +one or two blows of the mineralogical hammer destroyed my scruples, +and <span class="pagenum"><a id="page22" name="page22"></a>[pg +22]</span> produced the proper cleavages in the mass of coal. I +laid the precious stratum, <i>super stratum</i> upon the two +former, and other deposits of <i>papyrus</i> and <i>lignum</i>; +such was my "coal formation." The magic touch of a Promethean +elicited my "grand agent" to the thick laid post; it consumed +rather sluggishly, but the dry pine wood of the broken model caught +the flame and entered into fair combustion, cracking and sparkling, +and now and then sending out a hiss of pyroligenous vapour; hissing +yourself thought I. The fiery example was soon followed by the coal +at first slowly sending up wreaths of dirty, green, yellow smoke, +but as the fire waxed warmer these disappeared, and vivid hissing +jets of ignited gas shot forth in abundance. The hissing annoyed +me; why, I could not divine; but as the heat increased I cooled +from the state of excitement produced by the testy destruction of +my papers, model, and specimen. I sat down at the fire; had I not +better, said I, have made my wants known to the servant, than have +acted as I have done? No, I hate asking for what, as a duty should +have been ready to my hands. I endeavoured to persuade myself that +I did not regret the deed I had done, but could not succeed; +something whispered me that I should suffer for it. I felt myself +an "uncomfortable gentleman." I began to trace my fire from its +origin up to its present state of perfection; the letters were of +no consequence—none—the model I made myself and can +make another—certainly—the coal I paid dearly for by +fatigue, but I can get another lump, and send it home by coach, +yes; then why am I so uncomfortable. I looked at the glowing fire +which was getting insufferably hot, and gave it a passionate poke, +exclaiming, I wish I could stop your draught. Draught! draft, I +repeated, what has become of my draft that I received yesterday for +my last paper? I began to recollect myself where I had laid it, and +quickly came to the awful conclusion that I had placed it carefully +between the folds of one of the sacrificed letters.</p> +<p>Misery and destruction, said I, that draft has caused my rapid +fire! it is gone and forever! Fool that I was; why did I not "blow +up" the servants for paper, wood, and coals, and be "done for +properly" instead of thus "doing for myself." Ye alchymistical +spirits, said I, invoking the dark drapery, aid me to extract my +gold from yonder ashes! but they were deaf to my calls, and the old +<i>caput mortum</i> seemed to grin in mockery. I could bear it no +longer, and rushing from the sanctum, met the servant girl on the +stairs. "A draft! a draft!" repeated I; she thought me mad; I was +mad with vexation. "Sir," said she, "you will catch cold if there +is a draught such a day as this." A cold day as this, you wretch, +Eliza, why did you not bring my coals to the door this morning, +then I could have had my fire without a draft; I want a ten guinea +draft, not a foggy, frosty draught. The girl stood amazed, but +replied, "Please, sir, I didn't bring the coals this morning +because you said never to do so on a Sunday, sir." "Sunday," I +exclaimed, "is this Sunday?" "Lord bless me, sir, yes, and new +year's day too, sir; happy new year, sir," said the provoking +little wench, who was now joined by another. I could stand it no +longer, but slunk back into the sanctum, "like a burnt child that +dreaded the fire," hearing them exclaim, "I thought how it would +be, them odd things in his room has quite turned his brain, poor +young gentleman, he did not even know it was Sunday, and new year's +day neither."</p> +<p>I really did not know it was Sunday, for my calculaters were +destroyed by the circumstance of our having kept Christmas Day on +the Monday. I was aware that it was new year's day, and had +intended to begin 1832 with good works, instead of which I +commenced it with destroying my property, thus literally "doing for +myself," and unlike most other people who invariably suffer from a +draught, I am suffering from the loss of one.</p> +<p>PYRAMIS.</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF ALL NATIONS.</h2> +<hr /> +<h3>ADVENT.</h3> +<h4><i>(For the Mirror.)</i></h4> +<p>In the North Riding of Yorkshire, the young folks retain a very +ancient custom during Advent. They make a wax figure representing +the infant Jesus, and place it in a small wooden case, with +evergreens, which hide all but the figure. A napkin is thrown over +the box; and the puppet is thus carried about, and exhibited from +door to door, by a boy, the others chanting some supplicatory +lines. The same custom prevails in Wales.</p> +<p>In Italy, a wax figure representing the Virgin, inclosed in a +beautifully carved wooden case, is placed on the back of an ass, +and exhibited through the country during Advent. Every traveller on +seeing it prostrates himself immediately, and crosses himself, and +considers <span class="pagenum"><a id="page23" name= +"page23"></a>[pg 23]</span> himself in duty bound to bestow his +charity on the proprietor. Others carry emblematical figures +through the different towns, or sit by the road side, and uncover +the effigy to every passer-by.</p> +<p>W.H.H.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>CURIOUS MANORIAL RIGHT.</h3> +<h4><i>(For the Mirror.)</i></h4> +<p>At Ripley Castle, in Yorkshire, the seat of Sir William Ingilby, +there is in the great staircase an elegant Venetian window, in the +divisions of which, on stain-glass, are a series of escutcheons, +displaying the principal quarterings and intermarriages of the +Ingilby family since their settling at Ripley, during a course of +430 years.</p> +<p>In one of the chambers of the tower is the following sentence, +carved on the frieze of the wainscot:—"In the yeire of owre +Ld. MDLV. was this howse buyldyd, by Sir Wyllyam Ingilby, Knight, +Philip and Marie reigning that time."</p> +<p>John Pallisser, of Bristhwaite, formerly held his lands of the +manor of Ripley, by the payment of a red rose at Midsummer, and by +carrying the boar's head to the lord's table all the twelve days of +Christmas.</p> +<p>W.G.C.</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>NOTES OF A READER.</h2> +<hr /> +<h3>EUGENE ARAM.</h3> +<p>We intend to quote a few scenes and snatches from Mr. Bulwer's +extraordinary novel of this name. At present, however, we can only +introduce the ill-fated hero.</p> +<p>(Two young ladies, daughters of the lord of the Manor, approach +Aram's house:—)</p> +<p>"Madeline would even now fain have detained her sister's hand +from the bell that hung without the porch half embedded in ivy; but +Ellinor, out of patience—as she well might be—with her +sister's unseasonable prudence, refused any longer delay. So +singularly still and solitary was the plain around the house, that +the sound of the bell breaking the silence had in it something +startling, and appeared, in its sudden and shrill voice, a +profanation to the deep tranquillity of the spot. They did not wait +long—a step was heard within—the door was slowly +unbarred, and the Student himself stood before them."</p> +<p>"He was a man who might, perhaps, have numbered some five and +thirty years; but at a hasty glance, he would have seemed +considerably younger. He was above the ordinary stature; though a +gentle, and not ungraceful bend in the neck rather than the +shoulders, somewhat curtailed his proper advantages of height. His +frame was thin and slender, but well knit and fair proportioned. +Nature had originally cast his form in an athletic mould, but +sedentary habits and the wear of mind seemed somewhat to have +impaired her gifts. His cheek was pale and delicate; yet it was +rather the delicacy of thought than of weak health. His hair, which +was long, and of a rich and deep brown, was worn back from his face +and temples, and left a broad high majestic forehead utterly +unrelieved and bare; and on the brow there was not a single +wrinkle—it was as smooth as it might have been some fifteen +years ago. There was a singular calmness, and, so to speak, +profundity of thought, eloquent upon its clear expanse, which +suggested the idea of one who had passed his life rather in +contemplation than emotion. It was a face that a physiognomist +would have loved to look upon, so much did it speak both of the +refinement and the dignity of intellect."</p> +<p>"Such was the person—if pictures convey a faithful +resemblance—of a man, certainly the most eminent in his day +for various and profound learning, and a genius wholly self-taught, +yet never contented to repose upon the wonderful stores it had +laboriously accumulated."</p> +<p>(Aram thus describes his own character:—)</p> +<p>"Ah!" said Aram, gently shaking his head, "it is a hard life we +bookmen lead. Not for us is the bright face of noon-day or the +smile of woman, the gay unbending of the heart, the neighing steed +and the shrill trump; the pride, pomp, and circumstance of life. +Our enjoyments are few and calm; our labour constant; but that is +it not, Sir?—that is it not? the body avenges its own +neglect. We grow old before our time; we wither up; the sap of our +youth shrinks from our veins; there is no bound in our step. We +look about us with dimmed eyes, and our breath grows short and +thick, and pains, and coughs, and shooting aches come upon us at +night; it is a bitter life—a bitter life—joyless life. +I would I had never commenced it. And yet the harsh world scowls +upon us: our nerves are broken, and they wonder we are querulous; +our blood curdles, and they ask why we are not gay; our brain grows +dizzy and indistinct (as with me just now), and, shrugging their +shoulders, they whisper their neighbours that we are mad. I wish I +had worked at the plough, and <span class="pagenum"><a id="page24" +name="page24"></a>[pg 24]</span> known sleep, and loved +mirth—and—and not been what I am."</p> +<p>"As the Student tittered the last sentence, he bowed down his +head, and a few tears stole silently down his cheek. Walter was +greatly affected—it took him by surprise: nothing in Aram's +ordinary demeanour betrayed any facility to emotion; and he +conveyed to all the idea of a man, if not proud, at least +cold."</p> +<hr /> +<h3>OLD JESTS.</h3> +<p>Persons who gloat over dust and black-letter need scarcely be +told that the best of "modern" jests are almost literally from the +antique: in short, that what we employ to "set the table on a roar" +were employed by the wise men of old to enliven <i>their</i> cups, +deep and strong;—that to jest was a part of the Platonic +philosophy, and that the excellent fancies, the flashes of +merriment, of our forefathers, are nightly, nay hourly, re-echoed +for our amusement. Yet such is the whole art of pleasing: what has +pleased will, with certain modifications, continue to please again +and again, until the end of time.</p> +<p>But we may displease; and, as Hamlet says, "We must speak by the +card." The <i>Athenaeum</i> a fortnight since drew forth a batch of +these jests with antique humour richly dight, and here they are. +The reader will recognise many old acquaintances, but he need not +touch his hat, lest, his politeness weary him. These old stories +are but "pick'd to be new vann'd."</p> +<p><i>Hierocles' Facetiae</i>.</p> +<p>1. An irritable man went to visit a sick friend, and asked him +concerning his health. The patient was so ill that he could not +reply; whereupon the other in a rage said, "I hope that I may soon +fall sick, and then I will not answer you when you visit me."</p> +<p>2. A speculative gentleman, wishing to teach his horse to do +without food, starved him to death. "I had a great loss," said he; +"for, just as he learned to live without eating, he died."</p> +<p>3. A curious inquirer, desirous to know how he looked when +asleep, sat with closed eyes before a mirror.</p> +<p>4. A young man told his friend that he dreamed that he had +struck his foot against a sharp nail. "Why then do you sleep +without your shoes?" was the reply.</p> +<p>5. A robustious countryman, meeting a physician, ran to hide +behind a wall; being asked the cause, he replied, "It is so long +since I have been sick, that I am ashamed to look a physician in +the face."</p> +<p>6. A gentleman had a cask of Aminean wine, from which his +servant stole a large quantity. When the master perceived the +deficiency, he diligently inspected the top of the cask but could +find no traces of an opening. "Look if there be not a hole in the +bottom," said a bystander. "Blockhead," he replied, "do you not see +that the deficiency is at the top, and not at the bottom?"</p> +<p>7. A young man meeting an acquaintance, said, "I heard that you +were dead."—"But," says the other, "you see me +alive."—"I do not know how that may be," replied he: "you are +a notorious liar, but my informant was a person of credit."</p> +<p>8. A man, hearing that a raven would live two hundred years, +bought one to try.</p> +<p>9. During a storm, the passengers on board a vessel that +appeared in danger seized different implements to aid them in +swimming, and one of the number selected for this purpose the +anchor.</p> +<p>10. One of twin-brothers died: a fellow meeting the survivor +asked, "Which is it, you or your brother, that's dead?"</p> +<p>11. A man whose son was dead, seeing a crowd assembled to +witness the funeral, said, "I am ashamed to bring my little child +into such a numerous assembly."</p> +<p>12. The son of a fond father, when going to war, promised to +bring home the head of one of the enemy. His parent replied, "I +should be glad to see you come home without a head, provided you +come safe."</p> +<p>13. A man wrote to his friend in Greece begging him to purchase +books. From negligence or avarice, he neglected to execute the +commission; but fearing that his correspondent might be offended, +he exclaimed when next they met, "My dear friend, I never got the +letter that you wrote me about the books."</p> +<p>14. A wittol, a barber, and a bald-headed man travelled +together. Losing their way, they were forced to sleep in the open +air; and, to avert danger, it was agreed to keep watch by turns. +The lot first fell on the barber, who, for amusement, shaved the +fool's head while he slept; he then woke him, and the fool, raising +his hand to scratch his head, exclaimed, "Here's a pretty mistake; +rascal! you have waked the bald-headed man instead of me."</p> +<p>15. A citizen, seeing some sparrows in a tree, went beneath and +shook it, <span class="pagenum"><a id="page25" name= +"page25"></a>[pg 25]</span> holding out his hat to catch them as +they fell.</p> +<p>16. A foolish fellow, having a house to sell, took a brick from +the wall to exhibit as a sample.</p> +<p>17. A man meeting his friend, said, "I spoke to you last night +in a dream." "Pardon me," replied the other, "I did not hear +you."</p> +<p>18. A man that had nearly been drowned while bathing, declared +that he would not again go into the water until he had learned to +swim.</p> +<p>(To understand the next, we must premise that a horse with his +first teeth was called by the Greeks "a first thrower.")</p> +<p>19. A man selling a horse was asked if it was a first thrower. +"By Jove," said he, "he's a second thrower, for he threw both me +and my father."</p> +<p>20. A fellow had to cross a river, and entered the boat on +horseback; being asked the cause, he replied, "I must ride, because +I am in a hurry."</p> +<p>21. A student in want of money sold his books, and wrote home, +"Father, rejoice; for I now derive my support from literature."</p> +<p>We thank the wits of the <i>Athenaeum</i> for these piquancies: +they are in the right true Attic vein, and are therefore +characteristic of that clever Journal.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>KNOWLEDGE FOR THE PEOPLE.</h3> +<h4><i>(From</i> Part xiii.—<i>Botany.)</i></h4> +<p><i>Why have vegetables the function of transpiration?</i></p> +<p>Because the sap, on arriving in the leaves, loses and gives out +the superabundant quantity of water which it contained.</p> +<p><i>Why are limpid drops often observed hanging at the points of +leaves at sunrise?</i></p> +<p>Because of the vegetable transpiration condensed by the coldness +of the night. It was long thought that they were produced by dew; +but Mushenbroëk first proved the above, by conclusive +experiments. He intercepted all communication between a poppy and +the ambient air, by covering it with a bell; and between it and the +earth, by covering the vessel in which it grew with a leaden plate. +Next morning the drop appeared upon it as +before—<i>Richard.</i></p> +<p>One of the hydrangea tribe perspires so freely, that the leaves +wither and become crisp in a very short space of time, if the plant +be not amply supplied with water: it has 160,000 apertures on every +inch square of surface, on the under disk of the leaf.</p> +<p><i>Why is more or less of a gummy, resinous, or saccharine +matter found in every tree?</i></p> +<p>Because it is formed by branches of those returning vessels that +deposit the new alburnum.</p> +<p><i>Why is it inferred that these juices must be prepared in the +plant itself, by various secretions, and changes of the fluids +which it absorbs?</i></p> +<p>Because we find, that in the same climate, nay, even in the same +spot of ground, rue has its bitter—sorrel its acid—and +the lettuce its cooling juices; and that the juices of the various +parts of one plant, or even of one fruit, are extremely different. +Sir James Smith mentions the peach-tree as a familiar example. "The +gum of this tree is mild and mucilaginous. The bark, leaves, and +flowers, abound with a bitter secretion, of a purgative and rather +dangerous quality, than which nothing can be more distinct from the +gum. The fruit is replete, not only with acid, mucilage, and sugar, +but with its own peculiar aromatic and highly volatile secretion, +elaborated within itself, on which its fine flavour +depends."—<i>Introduction to Botany, 6th edit</i>.</p> +<p><i>Why are these juices readily found in the bark?</i></p> +<p>Because they appear to be matured, or brought to greater +perfection, in layers of wood or bark that have no longer any +principal share in the circulation of the sap. Thus, the vessels +containing them are often very large, as the turpentine cells of +the fir tribe, in all the species of which these secretions abound. +The substance from which spruce-beer is made, is an extract of the +branches of the <i>Abies Canadensis</i>, or Hemlock Spruce; a +similar preparation is obtained from the branches of +<i>Dacrydium</i>, in the South Seas.</p> +<p><i>Why, in the spring, is the herbage under trees generally more +luxuriant than it is beyond the spread of their branches?</i></p> +<p>Because the driving mists and fogs becoming condensed on the +branches, cause a frequent drip beneath the tree not experienced in +other places; and thus keep up a perpetual irrigation and +refreshment of the soil.</p> +<p><i>Why are certain plants useful or injurious to others that +grow in their vicinity?</i></p> +<p>Because of certain fluids which the roots excrete from their +slender extremities; and in this manner the likings and antipathies +of certain plants may be accounted for. Thus, it is well known that +the creeping thistle is hurtful to <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page26" name="page26"></a>[pg 26]</span> oats, <i>erigeron +acre</i> to wheat, <i>scabiosa arvensis</i> to flax, &c.</p> +<p><i>Why are some resins odorous?</i></p> +<p>Because they contain essential oil; some afford benzoic acid +when heated, and these have been termed balsams; such as tolu +balsam and benzoin.</p> +<p>Common resin is obtained by distilling the exudation of +different species of fir; oil of turpentine passes over, and the +resin remains behind.</p> +<p><i>Why are the varieties of the cashew tribe, called +varnish-trees?</i></p> +<p>Because their large flowers abound in a resinous, sometimes +acrid, and highly poisonous juice, which afterwards turns black, +and is used for varnishing in India. One kind is the common cashew +nut. All these varnishes are extremely dangerous to some +constitutions; the skin, if rubbed with them, inflames, and becomes +covered with pimples that are difficult to heal; the fumes have +also been known to produce painful swelling and inflammation.</p> +<p><i>Why do these varnishes, at first white, afterwards turn +black?</i></p> +<p>Because the recent juice is an organized substance, consisting +of an immense congeries of small parts, which disperse the sun's +rays in all directions, like a thin film of unmelted tallow; while +the varnish which has been exposed to the air loses its organized +structure, becomes homogeneous, and then transmits the sun's rays, +of a rich, deep, uniform, red colour.</p> +<p>The leaves of some species of Schinus are so filled with a +resinous fluid, that the least degree of unusual repletion of the +tissue causes it to be discharged; thus, some of them fill the air +with fragrance after rain; and other kinds expel their resin with +such violence when immersed in water, as to have the appearance of +spontaneous motion, in consequence of the recoil. Another kind is +said to cause swellings in those who sleep under its +shade.—<i>Brewster's Journal.</i></p> +<p><i>Why is the soap-tree so called?</i></p> +<p>Because its bark, if pulverized, and shaken in water, soon +yields a solution, frothing, as if it contained soap. It is a +native of Chili; the trunk is straight, and of considerable height; +the wood is hard, red, and never splits; and the bark is rugged, +fibrous, of ash-grey colour externally, and white within.</p> +<p><i>Why is a species of myrtle called the wax-tree?</i></p> +<p>Because the leaves and stem, when bruised, and boiled in water, +yield wax, which concretes on cooling. Mr. Brande observes, "the +glossy varnish upon the upper surface of many trees is of a similar +nature; and though there are shades of difference, these varieties +of wax possess the essential properties of that formed by the bee: +indeed, it was formerly supposed that bees merely collected the wax +already formed by the vegetable: but Huber's experiments show, that +the insect has the power of transmuting sugar into wax, and that +this is in fact a secretion."</p> +<p>The wax-palm of Humboldt has its trunk covered by a coating of +wax, which exudes from the spaces between the insertion of the +leaves. It is, according to Vaquelin, a concrete, inflammable +substance, consisting of 1/3 wax, and 2/3 resin.</p> +<p><i>Why are some oils called vegetable butters?</i></p> +<p>Because they become solid at the ordinary temperatures. Such are +cocoa-nut oil, palm oil, and nutmeg oil.</p> +<p><i>Why are some volatile oils obtained by expression?</i></p> +<p>Because they are contained in distinct vesicles in the rind of +fruits, as in the lemon, orange, and bergamot.</p> +<p><i>Why is the oil of poppy-seed perfectly wholesome?</i></p> +<p>Because it is in no degree narcotic; nor has it any of the +properties of the poppy itself. This oil is consumed on the +Continent in considerable quantity, and employed extensively in +adulterating olive oil. Its use was at one time prohibited in +France, by decrees issued in compliance with popular clamour; but +it is now openly sold, the government and people having grown +wiser.</p> +<p><i>Why is the juice of the poppy called opium?</i></p> +<p>Because of its derivation from the Persian <i>afioun</i>, and +the Arabian <i>aphium</i>. The botanical name of the poppy, +<i>papaver</i>, is said to be derived from its being commonly mixed +with the pap, papa, given to children in order to ease pain, and +procure sleep.</p> +<p><i>Why does opium produce sleep?</i></p> +<p>Because it contains an alkaline substance called Morphia. The +same drug contains a peculiar acid called the Meconic; and a +vegetable alkali named Narcotine, to which unpleasant stimulating +properties are attributed by Majendie.</p> +<p><i>Why is sugar so generally found in plants?</i></p> +<p>Because it is not only the seasoning of most eatable fruits, but +abounds in various roots, as the carrot, beet, parsnip, and in many +plants of the grass, or cane kind, besides the famous sugar +cane.</p> +<p>Sir James Smith observes that "there <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page27" name="page27"></a>[pg 27]</span> is great +reason to suppose sugar not so properly an original secretion, as +the result of a chemical change in secretions already formed, +either of an acid or mucilaginous nature, or possibly a mixture of +both. In ripening fruits, this change is most striking, and takes +place very speedily, seeming to be greatly promoted by heat and +light. By the action of frost, as Dr. Darwin observes, a different +change is wrought in the mucilage of the vegetable body, and it +becomes starch."</p> +<p>M. Berard considers gum and lignin as the principles in unripe +fruits which chiefly tend to the formation of sugar during their +ripening, and he has given several analyses of fruits in +illustration of these views. Mr. Brande also considers the elements +of water as probably concerned in the change.</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>THE NATURALIST.</h2> +<hr /> +<h3>THE SUGAR CANE.</h3> +<p>At the island of Tahiti (Otaheite) South Pacific Ocean, there +are several varieties of the sugar cane, differing, however, in +their qualities. The number of varieties are eight, and are as +follow:—</p> +<p>1. Rutu—of good quality.</p> +<p>2. Avae—of indifferent quality.</p> +<p>3. Irimotu—a rich cane, but does not grow to a large +size.</p> +<p>4. Patu—a good cane, of a red colour.</p> +<p>5. To-ura—a dark-striped cane, hard and good.</p> +<p>6. Toute—a bad cane, of a red colour.</p> +<p>7. Veu—a good cane.</p> +<p>8. Vaihi—this attains a large size, and is considered of +the best quality. It is said by the natives to have been introduced +from the Sandwich Islands.</p> +<p>At Manilla (Island of Luconia) the planters mention three +cultivated varieties of the sugar cane:—</p> +<p>1. Cana negra—black sugar cane.</p> +<p>2. Cana morada—brown sugar cane.</p> +<p>3. Cana blancha—white sugar cane.</p> +<p>of which the black or cana negra is considered the best, from +its strength and the quantity of syrup contained in it.</p> +<p><i>Mr. G.B.'s MS. Journal</i>, 1829-30.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>THE BARN OWL;</h3> +<h4><i>and the Benefits it confers on Man. By Charles Waterton, +Esq.</i></h4> +<p>This pretty aerial wanderer of the night often comes into my +room; and after flitting to and fro, on wing so soft and silent +that he is scarcely heard, he takes his departure from the same +window at which he had entered.</p> +<p>I own I have a great liking for this bird; and I have offered it +hospitality and protection on account of its persecutions, and for +its many services to me,—I say services, as you will see in +the sequel. I wish that any little thing I could write or say might +cause it to stand better with the world at large than it has +hitherto done: but I have slender hopes on this score; because old +and deep-rooted prejudices are seldom overcome; and when I look +back into the annals of remote antiquity, I see too clearly that +defamation has done its worst to ruin the whole family, in all its +branches, of this poor, harmless, useful friend of mine.</p> +<p>Ovid, nearly two thousand years ago, was extremely severe +against the owl. In his <i>Metamorphoses</i> he says:—</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Foedaque fit volucris, venturi nuncia luctus,</p> +<p>Ignavus bubo, dirum mortalibus omen." <a id="footnotetag5" name= +"footnotetag5"></a> <a href="#footnote5"><sup>5</sup></a></p> +</div> +</div> +<p>In his <i>Fasti</i> he openly accuses it of felony:—</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Nocte volant, puerosque petunt nutricis egentes." <a id= +"footnotetag6" name="footnotetag6"></a> <a href= +"#footnote6"><sup>6</sup></a></p> +</div> +</div> +<p>Lucan, too, has hit it hard:—</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Et laetae juranter aves, bubone sinistro:" <a id="footnotetag7" +name="footnotetag7"></a> <a href="#footnote7"><sup>7</sup></a></p> +</div> +</div> +<p>and the Englishman who continued the <i>Pharsalia</i>, +says—</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Tristia mille locis Stylus dedit omina bubo." <a id= +"footnotetag8" name="footnotetag8"></a> <a href= +"#footnote8"><sup>8</sup></a></p> +</div> +</div> +<p>Horace tells us that the old witch Canidia used part of the +plumage of the owl in her dealings with the devil:—</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Plumamque nocturnae strigis." <a id="footnotetag9" name= +"footnotetag9"></a> <a href="#footnote9"><sup>9</sup></a></p> +</div> +</div> +<p>Virgil, in fine, joined in the hue and cry against this injured +family:—</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Solaque culminibus ferali carmine bubo</p> +<p>Saepe queri, et longas in fletum ducere voces." <a id= +"footnotetag10" name="footnotetag10"></a> <a href= +"#footnote10"><sup>10</sup></a></p> +</div> +</div> +<p>In our own times we find that the village maid cannot return +home from seeing her dying swain, without a doleful salutation from +the owl:—</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Thus homeward as she hopeless went,</p> +<p class="i2">The churchyard path along,</p> +<p>The blast grew cold, the dark owl scream'd</p> +<p class="i2">Her lover's funeral song."</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>Amongst the numberless verses which might be quoted against the +family of the owl, I think I only know of one <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page28" name="page28"></a>[pg 28]</span> little +ode which expresses any pity for it. Our nursery maid used to sing +it to the tune of the Storm, "Cease rude Boreas, blust'ring +railer." I remember the first two stanzas of it:—</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i2">"Once I was a monarch's daughter,</p> +<p class="i4">And sat on a lady's knee;</p> +<p class="i2">But am now a nightly rover,</p> +<p class="i4">Banish'd to the ivy tree—</p> +<p class="i8">Crying, hoo hoo, hoo hoo, hoo hoo,</p> +<p class="i10">Hoo hoo hoo, my feet are cold!</p> +<p class="i8">Pity me, for here you see me,</p> +<p class="i10">Persecuted, poor, and old."</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>I beg the reader's pardon for this exordium. I have introduced +it, in order to show how little chance there has been, from days +long passed and gone to the present time, of studying the haunts +and economy of the owl, because its unmerited bad name has created +it a host of foes, and doomed it to destruction from all quarters. +Some few, certainly, from time to time, have been kept in cages and +in aviaries. But nature rarely thrives in captivity, and very +seldom appears in her true character when she is encumbered with +chains, or is to be looked at by the passing crowd through bars of +iron. However, the scene is now going to change; and I trust that +the reader will contemplate the owl with more friendly feelings, +and quite under different circumstances. Here, no rude schoolboy +ever approaches its retreat; and those who once dreaded its +diabolical doings are now fully satisfied that it no longer meddles +with their destinies, or has any thing to do with the repose of +their departed friends. Indeed, human wretches in the shape of +body-snatchers seem here in England to have usurped the office of +the owl in our churchyards; "et vendunt tumulis corpora rapta +suis."<a id="footnotetag11" name="footnotetag11"></a> <a href= +"#footnote11"><sup>11</sup></a></p> +<p>Up to the year 1813, the barn owl had a sad time of it at Walton +Hall. Its supposed mournful notes alarmed the aged housekeeper. She +knew full well what sorrow it had brought into other houses when +she was a young woman; and there was enough of mischief in the +midnight wintry blast, without having it increased by the dismal +screams of something which people knew very little about, and which +every body said was far too busy in the churchyard at nighttime. +Nay, it was a well-known fact, that if any person were sick in the +neighbourhood, it would be for ever looking in at the window, and +holding a conversation outside with somebody, they did not know +whom. The gamekeeper agreed with her in every thing she said on +this important subject; and he always stood better in her books +when he had managed to shoot a bird of this bad and mischievous +family. However, in 1813, on my return from the wilds of Guiana, +having suffered myself, and learned mercy, I broke in pieces the +code of penal laws which the knavery of the gamekeeper and the +lamentable ignorance of the other servants had hitherto put in +force, far too successfully, to thin the numbers of this poor, +harmless, unsuspecting tribe. On the ruin of the old gateway, +against which, tradition says, the waves of the lake have dashed +for the better part of a thousand years, I made a place with stone +and mortar, about 4 ft. square, and fixed a thick oaken stick +firmly into it. Huge masses of ivy now quite cover it. In about a +month or so after it was finished, a pair of barn owls came and +took up their abode in it. I threatened to strangle the keeper if +ever, after this, he molested either the old birds or their young +ones; and I assured the housekeeper that I would take upon myself +the whole responsibility of all the sickness, woe, and sorrow that +the new tenants might bring into the Hall. She made a low courtesy; +as much as to say, "Sir, I fall into your will and pleasure:" but I +saw in her eye that she had made up her mind to have to do with +things of fearful and portentous shape, and to hear many a midnight +wailing in the surrounding woods. I do not think that up to the day +of this old lady's death, which took place in her eighty-fourth +year, she ever looked with pleasure or contentment on the barn owl, +as it flew round the large sycamore trees which grow near the old +ruined gateway.</p> +<p><i>(To be concluded in our next.)</i></p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS.</h2> +<hr /> +<h3>BLONDEL DE NESLE.</h3> +<p>"Blondel de Nesle the favourite minstrel of Richard Coeur de +Lion, and an attendant upon his person, devoted himself to discover +the place of his confinement during the crusade against Saladin, +emperor of the Saracens. He wandered in vain from castle to palace, +till he learned that a strong and almost inaccessible fortress upon +the Danube was watched with peculiar strictness, as containing some +state-prisoner of distinction. The minstrel took his harp, and +approaching as near the castle as he durst, came so nigh the walls +as to hear the melancholy captive soothing his imprisonment with +music. Blondel touched his harp; the prisoner heard <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page29" name="page29"></a>[pg 29]</span> and was +silent: upon this the minstrel played the first part of a tune, or +lay, known to the captive; who instantly played the second part; +and thus, the faithful servant obtained the certainty that the +inmate of the castle was no other than his royal +master."—<i>Tales of a Grandfather</i>, p 69.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>The Danube's wide-flowing water lave</p> +<p class="i2">The captive's dungeon cell,</p> +<p>And the voice of its hoarse and sullen wave</p> +<p class="i2">Breaks forth in a louder swell,</p> +<p>And the night-breeze sighs in a deeper gust,</p> +<p>For the flower of chivalry droops in dust!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>A yoke is hung over the victor's neck,</p> +<p class="i2">And fetters enthral the strong,</p> +<p>And manhood's pride like a fearful wreck,</p> +<p>Lies the breakers of care among;</p> +<p>And the gleams of hope, overshadow'd, seem</p> +<p>The phantoms of some distemper'd dream.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>But the heart—the heart is unconquer'd still—</p> +<p class="i2">A host in its solitude!</p> +<p>Quenchless the spirit, though fetter'd the will,</p> +<p class="i2">Of that warrior unsubdued;</p> +<p>His soul, like an arrow from rocky ground,</p> +<p>Shall fiercely and proudly in air rebound.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>But the hour of darkness girds him now</p> +<p class="i2">With a pall of deepest night,</p> +<p>Anguish sits throned on his moody brow,</p> +<p class="i2">And the curse of thy withering blight,</p> +<p>Despair, thou dreariest deathliest foe!</p> +<p>His senses hath steep'd in a torpid woe.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>From the dazzling splendour of gloriest past</p> +<p class="i2">The warrior sickening turns.</p> +<p>To list to the sound of the wailing blast,</p> +<p class="i2">As the wan lamp dimly burns:</p> +<p>For the daring might of the lion-hearted</p> +<p>With Freedom's soul-thrilling notes hath parted.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>O'er his harp-string droops his palsied hand,</p> +<p class="i2">And the fitful strain alone</p> +<p>Murmurs the notes of his native land—</p> +<p class="i2">Does echo repeat that moan</p> +<p>From the dungeon wall so grim and so drear?—</p> +<p>No!—an answering minstrel lingers there.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Up starts the listening king—a flash</p> +<p class="i2">Of memory's gifted lore</p> +<p>Bursts on his soul—a deed so rash,</p> +<p class="i2">What captive would e'er deplore?</p> +<p>Since bonds no longer unnerve the free,</p> +<p>And valour hath won fidelity.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Dark child of sorrow, sweet comfort take,</p> +<p class="i2">In thy lone heart's widowhood,</p> +<p>Some charmed measure may yet awake</p> +<p class="i2">Arresting affliction's flood,</p> +<p>And thy prison'd soul unfetter'd be</p> +<p>By the answering spirit of sympathy!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><span style="margin-left:3em"><i>Metropolitan.</i></span></p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<h3>ASMODEUS AT LARGE.</h3> +<p>The design of this paper, in the <i>New Monthly Magazine</i>, is +by no means novel; but the fine, cutting satire—the pleasant, +lively banter on our vices and follies—which pervades every +page of the article, is a set-off to the political frenzy and the +literary lumber of other Magazines of the month. Each of them, it +is true, has a readable paper, but one gem only contributes to a +Magazine in the proportion of one swallow to a summer.</p> +<p>Here are three pages of the <i>New Monthly</i> Devil:</p> +<p>"A stranger, Sir, in the library," said my servant in opening +the door.</p> +<p>"Indeed! what a short, lame gentleman?"</p> +<p>"No, Sir; middle-sized,—has very much the air of a lawyer +or professional man."</p> +<p>I entered the room, and instead of the dwarf demon Le Sage +described, I beheld a comely man seated at the table, with a high +forehead, a sharp face, and a pair of spectacles on his nose. He +was employed in reading the new novel of "The Usurer's +Daughter."</p> +<p>"This cannot be the devil!" said I to myself; so I bowed, and +asked the gentleman his business.</p> +<p>"Tush!" quoth my visiter; "and how did you leave the +Doctor?"</p> +<p>"It is you, then!" said I; "you have grown greatly since you +left Don Cleofas."</p> +<p>"Wars fatten our tribe," answered the Devil; "besides shapes are +optional with me, and in England men go by appearances more than +they do abroad; one is forced to look respectable and portly; the +Devil himself could not cheat your countrymen with a shabby +exterior. Doubtless you observe that all the swindlers, whose +adventures enliven your journals, are dressed 'in the height of +fashion,' and enjoy 'a mild prepossessing demeanour.' Even the +Cholera does not menace 'a gentleman of the better ranks;' and no +bodies are burked with a decent suit of clothes on their backs. +Wealth in all countries is the highest possible morality; but you +carry the doctrine to so great an excess, that you scarcely suffer +the poor man to exist at all. If he take a walk in the country, +there's the Vagrant Act; and if he has not a penny to hire a cellar +in town, he's snapped up by a Burker, and sent off to the surgeons +in a sack. It must be owned that no country affords such warnings +to the spendthrift. You are one great moral against the getting rid +of one's money."</p> +<p>On this, Asmodeus and myself had a long conversation; it ended +in our dining together, (for I found him a social fellow, and fond +of a broil in a quiet way,) and adjourning in excellent spirits, to +the theatre.</p> +<p>"Certainly," said the Devil, taking a pinch of snuff, +"certainly, your drama is wonderfully fine, it is worthy of a +civilized nation; formerly you were contented with choosing actors +among human kind, but what an improvement to go among the brute +creation! think what a fine idea to have a whole play turn upon the +appearance of a broken-backed lion! And so you are going to raise +the drama by setting up a club; <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page30" name="page30"></a>[pg 30]</span> that's another exquisite +notion! You hire a great house in the neighbourhood of the theatre; +you call it the Garrick Club. You allow actors and patrons to mix +themselves and their negus there after the play; and this you call +a design for exalting the drama. Certainly you English are a droll +set; your expedients are admirable."</p> +<p>"My good Devil, any thing that brings actors and spectators +together, that creates an <i>esprit de corps</i> among all who +cherish the drama, is not to be sneered at in that inconsiderate +manner."</p> +<p>"I sneer! you mistake me; you have adduced a most convincing +argument—<i>esprit de corps</i>!—good! Your clubs +certainly nourish sociality greatly; those little tables, with one +sulky man before one sulky chop—those hurried nods between +acquaintances—that, monopoly of newspapers and easy +chairs—all exhibit to perfection the cementing faculties of a +club. Then, too, it certainly does an actor inestimable benefit to +mix with lords and squires. Nothing more fits a man for his +profession, than living with people who know nothing about it. Only +think what a poor actor Kean is; you would have made him quite a +different thing, if you had tied him to a tame gentlemen in the +'Garrick Club'. He would have played 'Richard' in a much higher +vein, I doubt not."</p> +<p>"Well," said I, "the stage is your affair at present, and +doubtless you do right to reject any innovation."</p> +<p>"Why, yes," quoth the Devil, looking round; "we have a very good +female supply in this quarter. But pray how comes it that the +English are so candid in sin? Among all nations there is immorality +enough, Heaven knows; but you are so delightfully shameless: if a +crime is committed here, you can't let it 'waste its sweetness;' +you thrust it into your papers forthwith; you stick it up on your +walls; you produce it at your theatres; you chat about it as an +agreeable subject of conversation; and then you cry out with a +blush against the open profligacy abroad! This is one of those +amiable contradictions in human nature that charms me excessively. +You fill your theatres with ladies of pleasure—you fill your +newspapers with naughty accounts—a robbery is better to you +than a feast—and a good fraud in the city will make you happy +for a week; and all this while you say: '<i>We</i> are the people +who send vice to Coventry, and teach the world how to despise +immorality.' Nay, if one man commits a murder, your newspapers +kindly instruct his associates how to murder in future, by a far +safer method. A wretch kills a boy for the surgeons, by holding his +head under water; 'Silly dog!' cries the Morning Herald, 'why did +not he clap a sponge dipped in prussic acid to the boy's +mouth?'"</p> +<p>Here we were interrupted by a slight noise in the next box, +which a gentleman had just entered. He was a tall man, with a +handsome face and very prepossessing manner.</p> +<p>"That is an Author of considerable reputation," said my Devil, +"quiet, though a man of wit, and with a heart, though a man of the +world. Talking of the drama, he once brought out a farce, which had +the good fortune to be damned. As great expectations had been +formed of it, and the author's name had transpired; the +unsuccessful writer rose the next morning with a hissing sound in +his ears, and that leaning towards misanthropy, which you men +always experience when the world has the bad taste to mistake your +merits. 'Thank Fate, however,' said the Author, 'it is damned +thoroughly—it is off the stage—I cannot be hissed +again—in a few days it will be forgotten—meanwhile I +will take a walk in the Park.' Scarce had the gentleman got into +the street, before, lo! at a butcher's shop blazed the 'very head +and front of his offending.' 'Second night of its appearance, the +admired Farce of ——, by ——, Esq.' Away +posts the Author to the Manager.—'Good Heavens! Sir, my farce +again! was it not thoroughly damned last night?'—'Thoroughly +damned!' quoth the Manager, drily; 'we reproduce it, Sir—we +reproduce it (with a knowing wink,) that the world, enraged at our +audacity, may come here to damn it again.' So it is, you see! the +love of money is the contempt of man: there's an aphorism for you! +Let us turn to the stage. What actresses you have!—certainly +you English are a gallant nation; you are wonderfully polite to +come and see such horrible female performers! By the by, you +observed when that young lady came on the stage, how timidly she +advanced, how frightened she seemed. 'What modesty!' cry the +audience; 'we must encourage her!' they clap, they shout, they pity +the poor thing, they cheer her into spirits. Would you believe that +the hardest thing the Manager had to do with her was to teach her +that modesty. She wanted to walk on the stage like a grenadier, and +it required fifteen lessons to make her be ashamed of herself. It +is in these things that the stage mimics the world, rather behind +the scenes than before!"</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page31" name="page31"></a>[pg +31]</span> +<p>"Bless me, how Braham is improved!" cried a man with spectacles, +behind me; "he acts now better than he sings!"</p> +<p>"Is it not strange," said Asmodeus, "how long the germ of a +quality may remain latent in the human mind, and how completely you +mortals are the creatures of culture? It was not till his old age +that Braham took lessons in acting; some three times a week has he +of late wended his way down, to the comedian of Chapel-street, to +learn energy and counterfeit warmth; and the best of it is, that +the spectators will have it that an actor feels all he acts; as if +human nature, wicked as it is, could feel Richard the Third every +other night. I remember, Mrs. Siddons had a majestic manner of +extending her arm as she left the stage. 'What grace!' said the +world, with tears in its eyes, 'what dignity! what a wonderful way +of extending an arm! you see her whole soul is in the part!' The +arm was in reality stretched impatiently out for a pinch from the +snuff-box that was always in readiness behind the scenes."</p> +<p>It is my misfortune, Reader, to be rapidly bored. I cannot sit +out a sermon, much less a play; amusement is the most tedious of +human pursuits.</p> +<p>"You are tired of this, surely," said I to the Devil; "let us +go!"</p> +<p>"Whither?" said Asmodeus.</p> +<p>"Why, 'tis a starlit night, let us ride over to Paris, and sup, +as you promised, at the Rocher de Cancale."</p> +<p>"<i>Volontiers</i>."</p> +<p>Away—away—away—into the broad still Heavens, +the stars dancing merrily above us, and the mighty heart of the +City beating beneath the dusky garment of Night below.</p> +<p>"Let us look down," said Asmodeus; "what a wilderness of houses! +shall I uncover the roofs for you, as I did for Don Cleofas; or +rather, for it is an easier method, shall I touch your eyes with my +salve of penetration, and enable you to see at once through the +wall?"</p> +<p>"You might as well do so; it is pleasant to feel the power, +though at present I think it superfluous; wherever I look, I can +only see rogues and fools, with a stray honest man now and then, +who is probably in prison."</p> +<p>Asmodeus touched my eyes with a green salve, which he took out +of an ivory box, and all at once, my sight being directed towards a +certain palace I beheld * * * *</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>THE GATHERER.</h2> +<hr /> +<p>A clergyman preaching in the neighbourhood of Wapping, observing +that most part of his audience were in the seafaring way, very +naturally embellished his discourse with several nautical tropes +and figures. Amongst other things, he advised them "to be ever on +the watch, so that on whatsoever tack the evil one should bear down +on them, he might be crippled in action." "Ay, master," said a son +of Neptune, "but let me tell you, that will depend upon your having +the weather gage of him."</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>A poacher escaping one morn with his pillage,</p> +<p>Unexpectedly met with the lord of the village;</p> +<p>Who seeing a hare o'er his shoulder was thrown,</p> +<p>Hail'd him quickly, "You fellow is that hare your own."</p> +<p>"My own!" he replied, "you inquisitive prig,</p> +<p>Gad's curse, pompous sir, do you think I've a wig?"</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<h3>ORIGIN OF THE PHRASE "TO BOOT."</h3> +<p><i>Bote</i> or <i>Bota</i>, in our old law books, signifies +recompense, repentance, or fine paid by way of expiation, and is +derived from the Saxon. Hence our common phrase "to boot," speaking +of something given by way of compensation.</p> +<p>P.T.W.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>OLD SONG.</h3> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Syr Tankarde he is as bold a wight</p> +<p class="i2">As ever Old England bred;</p> +<p>His armoure it is of the silver bright,</p> +<p class="i2">And his coloure is ruby red;</p> +<p class="i4">And whene'er on the bully ye calle,</p> +<p class="i4">He is readye to give ye a falle;</p> +<p>But if long in the battle with him ye be,</p> +<p>Ye weaker are ye, and the stronger is he,</p> +<p class="i4">For Syr Tankarde is victor of alle."</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"A barley-corn he mounts for a speare,</p> +<p class="i2">His helmet with hops is hung,</p> +<p>He lightes the eye with a laughing leere,</p> +<p class="i2">With a carolle he tipps the tongue—</p> +<p class="i4">And he marshals a valyant hoste</p> +<p class="i4">Of spices and crabbes and toaste;</p> +<p>And the stoutest of yeomen they well can o'erthrow,</p> +<p>When he leads them in beakers and jugs to the foe,—</p> +<p class="i4">And Syr Tankarde his prowess may boaste."</p> +</div> +</div> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page32" name="page32"></a>[pg +32]</span> +<hr /> +<h3>FRENCH—ENGLISH LOVE.</h3> +<p>The following is a copy of a letter addressed some years ago to +a lady of fortune at Portsmouth, upwards of four score years of +age, by a French prisoner of war at Porchester Castle:—</p> +<p>"<i>Porchester</i>.—<i>Madam</i>—Me rite de English +very leet, and me very fears you no saave vat me speak; but me be +told dat you vant one very fine man for your hosband; upon my soul +me love you very well; and thou you be very old woman, and very +cross, and ugly, and all de devil, and the English no like you, +upon my soul we have one great passion for you, and me like you +very well for all dat; and me told dat de man for you must be one +very clen man, and no love de drink. Me be all dat: indeed me be +one very grand man in France—upon my soul me be one count, me +have one grand equipage in France, and me be very good for de +esprit: indeed me be one grand beau-a-la-mode—one officier in +de regiment: me be very good for de Engleterres. Indeed you be one +very good old woman upon my soul; and if you have one inclination +for one man, me be dat gentleman for you—one grand man for +you. Me will be your hosband, and take de care for yourself, for de +house, for de gardin, for de Schoff, for de drink, and for de +little childs dat shall come. Upon my soul me kill myself very +soon, if you no love me for this grand amour. Me be, madam, your +great slave, votre tres humble serviteur, PRES A. BOIRE."</p> +<p>W.G.C.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>OLD LONDON BRIDGE.</h3> +<p>It is well known that Peter of Colechurch, the founder of +<i>Old</i> London Bridge, did not live to witness the completion of +the structure, but died in 1205, and was buried in a crypt within +the centre pier of the bridge, over which a chapel was erected, +dedicated to St. Thomas-à-Becket. Mr. Brayley, in his +<i>Londiniana</i>, wrote about five years since that "if due care +be taken when the old bridge is pulled down, the bones and ashes of +its venerable architect may still be found;"—and, true +enough, <i>the bones of old Peter were found on removing the pier +about a fortnight since</i>.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>TAME LIONS.</h3> +<p>Hanno, a Carthaginian, was the first who tamed a lion. He was +condemned to death, for what his fellow-citizens considered so +great a crime. They asserted that the republic had to fear the +worst consequences from a man who had been able to subdue so much +ferocity. A little more experience, however, convinced them of the +fallacy of that ridiculous judgment. The triumvir Antony, +accompanied by an actress, was publicly drawn by lions in a +chariot.</p> +<p>SAD-USING.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>CITY OF LYONS.</h3> +<p>Lyons is situated on a sort of peninsula, formed by the +confluence of two great rivers—the Rhone and the Laone. All +the bridges, with the exception of one of stone, are of wood; and +although in general more useful than ornamental, they are justly +admired for the boldness of their construction. They form numerous +and convenient communications between the city and the +faubourgs.</p> +<p>Lyons is walled round, and strongly fortified. In 1791 it +contained 121,000 inhabitants; but, in consequence of the siege of +1793, and the cruelties practised at that memorable period of +French history, the numbers were reduced to less than 80,000. In +1802, the numbers were 88,662; and in 1827, the fixed population +had increased to 97,439;—but there was a floating population, +estimated at 43,684, which, with the inmates of the barracks and +hospitals, stated at 8,600, made the total population at that +period 149,723; and by adding the population of the suburbs, +reckoned at 36,000, the whole amount of the inhabitants at the +period of the census, in 1827, was 185,723; at the present time it +is said to be, in round numbers, 200,000.</p> +<p>In 1828, the number of workshops in all branches of the silk +trade within the walls, amounted to 7,140; that of the silk frames +or looms to 18,829; and from 10,000 to 12,000 in the communes.</p> +<p>W.G.C.</p> +<hr /> +<p>The ditty sung by the first grave-digger in <i>Hamlet</i>, +beginning—</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"In youth, when I did love, did love"—</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>was written by Lord Vaux, an ancestor of Lord Brougham. It will +be found entire in <i>Percy's Reliques</i>.</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Number 527, price Twopence,</p> +<p>A SUPPLEMENT,</p> +<p>With a STEEL-PLATE PORTRAIT of His Present</p> +<p>Majesty, WILLIAM IV.</p> +<p>AT FOURTEEN YEARS OF AGE.</p> +<p>From a Picture by B. West, P.R.A.</p> +<p>Anecdotic Memoir; and Title-Page, Preface,</p> +<p>and Index; completing VOL. XVIII.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr class="full" /> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote1" name= +"footnote1"></a><b>Footnote 1</b>: <a href= +"#footnotetag1">(return)</a> Quoted by Cunningham in his "Life of +Wren," from a contemporary authority.</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote2" name= +"footnote2"></a><b>Footnote 2</b>: <a href= +"#footnotetag2">(return)</a> Wards of London.</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote3" name= +"footnote3"></a><b>Footnote 3</b>: <a href= +"#footnotetag3">(return)</a> We omitted to state that our +interesting particulars of the Heckington Sepulchre were from +<i>Vetusta Monumenta</i>, a splendid folio work published by the +Antiquarian Society.</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote4" name= +"footnote4"></a><b>Footnote 4</b>: <a href= +"#footnotetag4">(return)</a> Sketches of New and Old Sleaford, +County of Lincoln, and of several places in the Neighbourhood, p. +224. 8vo Baldwin and Co.</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote5" name= +"footnote5"></a><b>Footnote 5</b>: <a href= +"#footnotetag5">(return)</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Ill-omen'd in his form, the unlucky fowl,</p> +<p>Abhorr'd by men, and call'd a screeching owl."—<i>Garth's +Trans.</i></p> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote6" name= +"footnote6"></a><b>Footnote 6</b>: <a href= +"#footnotetag6">(return)</a> "They fly by night, and assail infants +in the nurse's absence."</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote7" name= +"footnote7"></a><b>Footnote 7</b>: <a href= +"#footnotetag7">(return)</a> "Even the ill-boding owl is declared a +bird of good omen."</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote8" name= +"footnote8"></a><b>Footnote 8</b>: <a href= +"#footnotetag8">(return)</a> "The Stygian owl gives sad omens in a +thousand places."</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote9" name= +"footnote9"></a><b>Footnote 9</b>: <a href= +"#footnotetag9">(return)</a> "A feather of the night +owl."</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote10" name= +"footnote10"></a><b>Footnote 10</b>: <a href= +"#footnotetag10">(return)</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>——"And, on her palace top,</p> +<p>The lonely owl with oft repeated scream</p> +<p>Complains, and spins into a dismal length</p> +<p>Her baleful shrieks."—<i>Trapp's Trans.</i></p> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote11" name= +"footnote11"></a><b>Footnote 11</b>: <a href= +"#footnotetag11">(return)</a> "And sell bodies torn from their +tombs."</blockquote> +<hr class="full" /> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11530 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/11530-h/images/529-001.png b/11530-h/images/529-001.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f51f598 --- /dev/null +++ b/11530-h/images/529-001.png diff --git a/11530-h/images/529-002.png b/11530-h/images/529-002.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..654c539 --- /dev/null +++ b/11530-h/images/529-002.png |
