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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:37:10 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:37:10 -0700 |
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diff --git a/11537-h/11537-h.htm b/11537-h/11537-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9fe3e57 --- /dev/null +++ b/11537-h/11537-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1473 @@ +<!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. 530.</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 11537 ***</div> + +<hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page33" name="page33"></a>[pg +33]</span> +<h1>THE MIRROR<br /> +OF<br /> +LITERATURE, AMUSEMENT, AND INSTRUCTION.</h1> +<hr class="full" /> +<table width="100%" summary="Volume, Number, and Date"> +<tr> +<td align="left"><b>Vol. XIX. No. 530.]</b></td> +<td align="center"><b>SATURDAY, JANUARY 21, 1832.</b></td> +<td align="right"><b>[PRICE 2d.</b></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>LAW INSTITUTION.</h2> +<div class="figure" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/530-001.png"><img width="100%" src="images/530-001.png" +alt="LAW INSTITUTION." /></a></div> +<p>This handsome portico is situate on the west side of Chancery +Lane. It represents, however, but a portion of the building, which +extends thence into Bell Yard, where there is a similar entrance. +The whole has been erected by Messrs. Lee and Sons, the builders of +the new Post Office and the London University; whose contract for +the present work is stated at 9,214<i>l</i>. The portion in our +engraving is one of the finest structures of its kind in the +metropolis. The bold yet chaste character of the Ionic columns, and +the rich foliated moulding which decorates the pediment, as well as +the soffit ceiling of the portico, must be greatly admired. We +should regret this handsome structure being pent up in so narrow a +street as Chancery Lane, did not the appropriateness of its +situation promise advantages of greater importance than mere +architectural display.</p> +<p>From the Fourth Annual Report, <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page34" name="page34"></a>[pg 34]</span> we learn that "the plan +of the <i>Law Institution</i> originated with some individuals in +the profession, who were desirous of increasing its respectability, +and promoting the general convenience and advantage of its +members." Rightly enough it appeared to them "singular, that whilst +the various public bodies, companies, and commercial and trading +classes in the metropolis, and indeed in many of the principal +towns in the kingdom, have long possessed places of general resort, +for the more convenient transaction of their business; and while +numerous institutions for promoting literature and science amongst +all ranks and conditions of society, have been long established, +and others are daily springing up, the attorneys and solicitors of +the superior courts of record at Westminster should still be +without an establishment in London, calculated to afford them +similar advantages; more particularly when the halls and libraries +of the inns of court, the clubs of barristers, special pleaders, +and conveyancers, the libraries of the advocates and writers to the +signet at Edinburgh, and the association of attorneys in Dublin, +furnish a strong presumption of the advantages which would probably +result from an establishment of a similar description for attorneys +in London.</p> +<p>"For effecting the purposes of the institution, it was +considered necessary to raise a fund of 50,000<i>l</i>. in shares +of 25<i>l</i>. each, payable by instalments, no one being permitted +to take more than twenty shares. The plan having been generally +announced to the profession, a large proportion of the shares were +immediately subscribed for, so that no doubt remained of the +success of the design, and the committee therefore directed +inquiries to be made for a site for the intended building, and +succeeded in obtaining an eligible one in Chancery Lane, nearly +opposite to the Rolls Court, consisting of two houses, formerly +occupied by Sir John Silvester (and lately by Messrs. Collins and +Wells,) and Messrs. Clarke, Richards and Medcalf, and of the house +behind, in Bell Yard, lately in the possession of Mr. Maxwell; thus +having the advantage of two frontages, and, from its contiguity to +the law offices and inns of court, being peculiarly adapted to the +objects of the institution."</p> +<p>"It is the present intention of the committee to provide for the +following objects:—<i>viz</i>—<i>A Hall</i>, to be open +at all hours of the day; but some particular hour to be fixed as +the general time for assembling: to be furnished with desks, or +inclosed tables, affording similar accommodations to those in +Lloyd's Coffee House; and to be provided with newspapers and other +publications calculated for general reference."</p> +<p>"An Ante-room for clerks and others, in which will be kept an +account of all public and private parliamentary business, in its +various stages, appeals in the House of Lords, the general and +daily cause papers, seal papers, &c."</p> +<p>"A Library to contain a complete collection of books in the law, +and relating to those branches of literature which may be +considered more particularly connected with the profession; votes, +reports, acts, journals, and other proceedings of parliament; +county and local histories; topographical, genealogical, and other +matters of antiquarian research, &c. &c."</p> +<p>"An Office of Registry in which will be kept accounts and +printed particulars of property intended for sale, &c."</p> +<p>"A Club Room which may afford members an opportunity of +procuring dinners and refreshments, on the plan of the University, +Athenaeum, Verulam, and similar clubs."</p> +<p>"A suite of rooms for meetings."</p> +<p>"Fire-proof rooms, in the basement story, to be fitted up with +closets, shelves, drawers, and partitions, for the deposit of +deeds, &c."</p> +<p>Upon reference to the list of members to Jan. 1831, we find +their number to be 607 in town, and 88 in the country, who hold +2000 shares in the Institution. A charter of incorporation has +recently been granted to the Society by his Majesty, by the style +of "The Society of Attorneys, Solicitors, Proctors, and others, not +being Barristers, practising in the Courts of Law and Equity in the +United Kingdom," thus giving full effect to the arrangements +contemplated by this building in Chancery Lane.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>HOPE.</h3> +<h4><i>(For the Mirror.)</i></h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>He mark'd two sunbeams upward driven</p> +<p>Till they blent in one in the bosom of heaven;</p> +<p>And when closed o'er the eye lid of night,</p> +<p>His own mind's eye saw it doubly bright,</p> +<p>And as upward and upward it floated on</p> +<p>He deemed it a seraph—and anon.</p> +<p>Through its light on heaven's floor he made,</p> +<p>The shadow bright of his dead love's shade,</p> +<p>In her living beauty, and he wrapt her in light,</p> +<p>Which dropped from the eye of the <i>Infinite</i>.</p> +<p>And as she breathed her heavenward sigh,</p> +<p>'Twas halved by that light all radiently,</p> +<p>As it lit her up to eternity.</p> +<p>Then the future opened its ocult scroll.</p> +<p>And his own inward man was refined to soul,</p> +<p>And straightway it rose to the realms above,</p> +<p>On the wings of thought till it joined his love,</p> +<p>And though from that beauteous trance he woke</p> +<p>Still linger'd the thought—and he called +it—hope!</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page35" name="page35"></a>[pg +35]</span> +<h3>LOVE'S KERCHIEF.</h3> +<h4><i>(For the Mirror.)</i></h4> +<p>It was a custom in my time to look through a handkerchief at the +new year's moon, and as many moons as ye saw (multiplied by the +handkerchief,) so many years would ye be before ye were wed.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>When sunset and moon-rise</p> +<p class="i2">Chill and burn at once on the earth—</p> +<p>When love-tears and love-sighs</p> +<p class="i2">Tickle up boisterous mirth—</p> +<p>When fate-stars are shooting,</p> +<p class="i2">Sparks of love to the maid</p> +<p class="i6">To fill her funeral eye with light,</p> +<p>And owlets are hooting</p> +<p class="i2">Her sire's ghost, which she's unlaid</p> +<p class="i6">With vexation, down backward in night;</p> +<p>Then the lover may spin from that light of her eye,</p> +<p>(As through his sigh it glances silkily,)</p> +<p>With the wheel of a dead witch's fancy,</p> +<p>The thread of his after destiny—</p> +<p class="i6">All hidden things to prove.</p> +<p>Then make a warp and a woof of that thread of sight,</p> +<p>And weave it with loom of a fairy sprite,</p> +<p>As she works by the lamp of the glow-worm's light,</p> +<p>While it lays drunk with the dew-drop of night,</p> +<p class="i6">And ye'll have the <i>kerchief</i> of love:</p> +<p>Then peep through it at the waning moon,</p> +<p>And ye shall read your fate—anon.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<h3>A SKETCH OF SINGAPORE. <a id="footnotetag1" name= +"footnotetag1"></a> <a href="#footnote1"><sup>1</sup></a></h3> +<p>Near the village of Kampong Glam <a id="footnotetag2" name= +"footnotetag2"></a> <a href="#footnote2"><sup>2</sup></a> I +observed a poor-looking bungalow, surrounded by high walls, +exhibiting effects of age and climate. Over the large gateway which +opened into the inclosure surrounding this dwelling were +watch-towers. On inquiry, I found this was the residence of the +Rajah of Johore, who includes Sincapore also in his dominions. The +island was purchased of him by the British Government, who now +allow him an annual pension. He is considered to have been formerly +a leader of pirates; and when we saw a brig he was building, it +naturally occurred to our minds whether he was about to resort to +his old practices. We proposed visiting this personage; and on +arriving at the gateway were met by a peon, who, after delivering +our message to the Rajah, requested us to wait a few minutes, until +his <i>Highness</i> was ready. We did not wait long, for the Rajah +soon appeared, and took his seat, in lieu of a throne, upon the +highest step of those which led to his dwelling. His appearance was +remarkable: he appeared a man of about forty years of +age—teeth perfect, but quite black, from the custom of +chewing the betel constantly. His head was large; and his shaven +cranium afforded an interesting phrenological treat. He was +deformed; not more than five feet in height, of large body, and +short, thick, and deformed legs, scarcely able to support the +ponderous trunk. His neck was thick and short, and his head +habitually stooped; his face bloated, with the lower lip +projecting, and large eyes protruding, one of them having a +cataractal appearance. He was dressed in a short pair of cotton +drawers, a sarong of cotton cloth came across the shoulders in the +form of a scarf, and with tarnished, embroidered slippers, and +handkerchief around the head (having the upper part exposed) after +the Malay fashion, completed the attire of this singular +creature.</p> +<p>As much grace and dignity was displayed in our reception as such +a figure could show, and chairs were placed by the attendants for +our accommodation. He waddled a short distance, and, +notwithstanding the exertion was so extraordinary as to cause large +drops of perspiration to roll down his face, conferred a great +honour upon us by personally accompanying us to see a tank he had +just formed for fish, and with a flight of steps, for the +convenience of bathing. After viewing this, he returned to his +former station, when he re-seated himself, with a dignity of look +and manner surpassing all description; and we took our departure, +after a brief common-place conversation.</p> +<p>I remarked, that on his approach the natives squatted down, as a +mark of respect: a custom similar to which prevails in several of +the Polynesian islands.</p> +<p><i>Mr. G.B.'s MS. Jour., Nov. 15, 1830</i>.</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>MANNERS & CUSTOMS OF ALL NATIONS.</h2> +<hr /> +<h3>ROYAL AND NOBLE GLUTTONY.</h3> +<h4><i>(For the Mirror.)</i></h4> +<p>The Emperor Claudius had a strong predilection for mushrooms: he +was poisoned with them, by Agrippina, his niece and fourth wife; +but as the poison <span class="pagenum"><a id="page36" name= +"page36"></a>[pg 36]</span> only made him sick, he sent for +Xenophon, his physician, who, pretending to give him one of the +emetics he commonly used after debauches, caused a poisoned feather +to be passed into his throat.</p> +<p>Nero used to call mushrooms the relish of the gods, because +Claudius, his predecessor, having been, as was supposed, poisoned +by them, was, after his death, ranked among the gods.</p> +<p>Domitian one day convoked the senate, to know in what +fish-kettle they should cook a monstrous turbot, which had been +presented to him. The senators gravely weighed the matter; but as +there was no utensil of this kind big enough, it was proposed to +cut the fish in pieces. This advice was rejected. After much +deliberation, it was resolved that a proper utensil should be made +for the purpose; and it was decided, that whenever the emperor went +to war a great number of potters should accompany him. The most +pleasing part of the story is, that a blind senator seemed in +perfect ecstacy at the turbot, by continually praising it, at the +same time turning in the very opposite direction.</p> +<p>Julius Caesar sometimes ate at a meal the revenues of several +provinces.</p> +<p>Vitellius made four meals a day; and all those he took with his +friends never cost less than ten thousand crowns. That which was +given to him by his brother was most magnificent: two thousand +select dishes were served up: seven thousand fat birds, and every +delicacy which the ocean and Mediterranean sea could furnish.</p> +<p>Nero sat at the table from midday till midnight, amidst the most +monstrous profusion.</p> +<p>Geta had all sorts of meat served up to him in alphabetical +order.</p> +<p>Heliogabalus regaled twelve of his friends in the most +incredible manner: he gave to each guest animals of the same +species as those he served them to eat; he insisted upon their +carrying away all the vases or cups of gold, silver, and precious +stones, out of which they had drunk; and it is remarkable, that he +supplied each with a new one every time he asked to drink. He +placed on the head of each a crown interwoven with green foliage, +and gave each a superbly-ornamented and well-yoked car to return +home in. He rarely ate fish but when he was near the sea; and when +he was at a distance from it, he had them served up to him in +sea-water.</p> +<p>Louis VIII. invented a dish called <i>Truffes a la purée +d'ortolans</i>. The happy few who tasted this dish, as concocted by +the royal hand of Louis himself, described it as the very +perfection of the culinary art. The Duc d'Escars was sent for one +day by his royal master, for the purpose of assisting in the +preparation of a glorious dish of <i>Truffes a la purée +d'ortolans</i>; and their joint efforts being more than usually +successful, the happy friends sat down to <i>Truffes a la +purée d'ortolans</i> for ten, the whole of which they caused +to disappear between them, and then each retired to rest, +triumphing in the success of their happy toils. In the middle of +the night, however, the Duc d'Escars suddenly awoke, and found +himself alarmingly indisposed. He rang the bells of his apartment, +when his servant came in, and his physicians were sent for; but +they were of no avail, for he was dying of a surfeit. In his last +moments he caused some of his attendants to go and inquire whether +his majesty was not suffering in a similar manner with himself, but +they found him sleeping soundly and quietly. In the morning, when +the king was informed of the sad catastrophe of his faithful friend +and servant, he exclaimed, "Ah, I told him I had the better +digestion of the two."</p> +<p>W.G.C.</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>THE SKETCH BOOK.</h2> +<hr /> +<h3>EVERY MAN IN HIS HUMOUR. A FRAGMENT.</h3> +<h4><i>(For the Mirror.)</i></h4> +<p>During the rage of the last continental war in Europe, +occasion—no matter what—called an honest Yorkshire +squire to take a journey to Warsaw. Untravelled and unknowing, he +provided himself no passport: his business concerned himself alone, +and what had foreign nations to do with him? His route lay through +the states of neutral and contending powers. He landed in +Holland—passed the usual examination; but, insisting that the +affairs which brought him there were of a private nature, he was +imprisoned—questioned—sifted;—and appearing to be +incapable of design, was at length permitted to pursue his +journey.</p> +<p>To the officer of the guard who conducted him to the frontiers +he made frequent complaints of the loss he should sustain by the +delay. He swore it was uncivil, and unfriendly, and ungenerous: +five hundred Dutchmen might have travelled through Great Britain +without a question,—they never questioned any stranger in +Great Britain, nor stopped <span class="pagenum"><a id="page37" +name="page37"></a>[pg 37]</span> him, nor imprisoned him, nor +guarded him.</p> +<p>Roused from his native phlegm by these reflections on the police +of his country, the officer slowly drew the pipe from his mouth, +and emitting the smoke, "Mynheer," said he, "when you first set +your foot on the land of the Seven United Provinces, you should +have declared you came hither on affairs of commerce;" and +replacing his pipe, relapsed into immovable taciturnity.</p> +<p>Released from this unsocial companion, he soon arrived at a +French post, where the sentinel of the advanced guard requested the +honour of his permission to ask for his passports. On his failing +to produce any, he was entreated to pardon the liberty he took of +conducting him to the commandant—but it was his duty, and he +must, however reluctantly, perform it.</p> +<p>Monsieur le Commandant received him with cold and pompous +politeness. He made the usual inquiries; and our traveller, +determined to avoid the error which had produced such +inconvenience, replied that commercial concerns drew him to the +continent. "Ma foi," said the commandant, "c'est un negotiant, un +bourgeois"—take him away to the citadel, we will examine him +to-morrow, at present we must dress for the +comedie—"Allons."</p> +<p>"Monsieur," said the sentinel, as he conducted him to the +guard-room, "you should not have mentioned commerce to Monsieur le +Commandant; no gentleman in France disgraces himself with +trade—we despise traffic; you should have informed Monsieur +le Commandant, that you entered the dominions of the Grand Monarque +to improve in dancing, or in singing, or in dressing: arms are the +profession of a man of fashion, and glory and accomplishments his +pursuits—Vive le Roi."</p> +<p>He had the honour of passing the night with a French guard, and +the next day was dismissed. Proceeding on his journey, he fell in +with a detachment of German Chasseurs. They demanded his name, +quality, and business. He came he said to dance, and to sing, and +to dress. "He is a Frenchman," said the corporal—"A spy!" +cries the sergeant. He was directed to mount behind a dragoon, and +carried to the camp.</p> +<p>There he was soon discharged; but not without a word of advice. +"We Germans," said the officer, "eat, drink, and smoke: these are +our favourite employments; and had you informed the dragoons you +followed no other business, you would have saved them, me, and +yourself, infinite trouble."</p> +<p>He soon approached the Prussian dominions, where his examination +was still more strict; and on answering that his only designs were +to eat, and to drink, and to smoke—"To eat! and to drink! and +to smoke!" exclaimed the officer with astonishment. "Sir, you must +he forwarded to Postdam—war is the only business of mankind." +The acute and penetrating Frederick soon comprehended the character +of our traveller, and gave him a passport under his own hand. "It +is an ignorant, an innocent Englishman," says the veteran; "the +English are unacquainted with military duties; when they want a +general they borrow him of me."</p> +<p>At the barriers of Saxony he was again interrogated. "I am a +soldier," said our traveller, "behold the passport of the first +warrior of the age."—"You are a pupil of the destroyer of +millions," replied the sentinel, "we must send you to Dresden; and, +hark'e, sir, conceal your passport, as you would avoid being torn +to pieces by those whose husbands, sons, and relations have been +wantonly sacrificed at the shrine of Prussian ambition." A second +examination at Dresden cleared him of suspicion.</p> +<p>Arrived at the frontiers of Poland, he flattered himself his +troubles were at an end; but he reckoned without his host.</p> +<p>"Your business in Poland?" interrogated the officer.</p> +<p>"I really don't know, sir."</p> +<p>"Not know your own business, sir!" resumed the officer; "I must +conduct you to the Starost."</p> +<p>"For the love of God," said the wearied traveller, "take pity on +me. I have been imprisoned in Holland for being desirous to keep my +own affairs to myself;—I have been confined all night in a +French guard-house, for declaring myself a merchant;—I have +been compelled to ride seven miles behind a German dragoon, for +professing myself a man of pleasure;—I have been carried +fifty miles a prisoner in Prussia, for acknowledging my attachment +to ease and good living;—I have been threatened with +assassination in Saxony, for avowing myself a warrior. If you will +have the goodness to let me know how I may render such an account +of myself as not to give offence, I shall ever consider you as my +friend and protector."</p> +<p>M—A—NS.</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page38" name="page38"></a>[pg +38]</span> +<h2>RETROSPECTIVE GLEANINGS.</h2> +<hr /> +<h3>SPEECH OF KING HENRY THE FIRST.</h3> +<h4><i>(To the Editor.)</i></h4> +<p>The following speech of Henry the First will, no doubt, be +thought by some of your numerous readers curious enough to deserve +a corner in your valuable <i>Mirror</i>. It is the first that ever +was delivered from the throne;—is preserved to us by only one +historian (Mathew Paris), and scarcely taken notice of by any +other. Henry the First, the Conqueror's youngest son, had +dispossessed his eldest brother, Robert, of his right of succession +to the crown of England. The latter afterwards coming over to +England, upon a friendly visit to him, and Henry, being suspicious +that this circumstance might turn to his disadvantage, called +together the great men of the realm, and spoke to them as +follows:—</p> +<p>"My friends and faithful subjects, both natives and +foreigners,—You all know very well that my brother Robert was +both called by God, and elected King of Jerusalem, which he now +might have happily governed; and how shamefully he refused that +rule, for which he justly deserves God's anger and reproof. You +know also, in many other instances, his pride and brutality: +because he is a man that delights in war and bloodshed, he is +impatient of peace. I know that he thinks you a parcel of +contemptible fellows: he calls you a set of gluttons and drunkards, +whom he hopes to tread under his feet. I, truly a king, meek, +humble, and peaceable, will preserve and cherish you in your +ancient liberties, which I have formerly sworn to perform; will +hearken to your wise councils with patience; and will govern you +justly, after the example of the best of princes. If you desire it, +I will strengthen this promise with a written character; and all +those laws which the Holy King Edward, by the inspiration of God, +so wisely enacted, I will again swear to keep inviolably. If you, +my brethren, will stand by me faithfully, we shall easily repulse +the strongest efforts the cruelest enemy can make against me and +these kingdoms. If I am only supported by the valour of the English +nation, all the weak threats of the Normans will no longer seem +formidable to me."</p> +<p>The historian adds, that this harrangue of Henry to his nobles +had the desired effect, though he afterwards broke all his promises +to them. Duke Robert went back much disgusted; when his brother +soon after followed, gained a victory over him, took him prisoner, +put out his eyes, and condemned him to perpetual imprisonment.</p> +<p>G.K.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>REMEDY FOR ALDERMEN SLEEPING IN CHURCH.</h3> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Sleep no more."—<i>Macbeth</i>.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>Bishop Andrews was applied to for advice by a corpulent alderman +of Cambridge, who had been often reproved for sleeping at church, +and whose conscience troubled him on this account. Andrews told him +it was an ill habit of body, and not of mind, and advised him to +eat little at dinner. The alderman tried this expedient, but found +it ineffectual. He applied again with great concern to the bishop, +who advised him to make a hearty meal, as usual, but to take his +full sleep before he went to church. The advice was followed, and +the alderman came to St. Mary's Church, where the preacher was +prepared with a sermon against sleeping at church, which was thrown +away, for the good alderman looked at the preacher during the whole +sermon time, and spoiled the design.</p> +<p>P.T.W.</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>THE NATURALIST.</h2> +<h3>THE BARN OWL.</h3> +<h4><i>(Concluded from page 28.)</i></h4> +<p>When I found that this first settlement on the gateway had +succeeded so well, I set about forming other establishments. This +year I have had four broods, and I trust that next season I can +calculate on having nine. This will be a pretty increase, and it +will help to supply the place of those which in this neighbourhood +are still unfortunately doomed to death, by the hand of cruelty or +superstition. We can now always have a peep at the owls, in their +habitation on the old ruined gateway, whenever we choose. Confident +of protection, these pretty birds betray no fear when the stranger +mounts up to their place of abode. I would here venture a surmise, +that the barn owl sleeps standing. Whenever we go to look at it, we +invariably see it upon the perch bolt upright, and often with its +eyes closed, apparently fast asleep. Buffon and Bewick err (no +doubt, unintentionally) when they say that the barn owl snores +during its repose. What they took for snoring was the cry of the +young birds for food. I had fully satisfied myself on this score +some years ago. However, in <span class="pagenum"><a id="page39" +name="page39"></a>[pg 39]</span> December, 1823, I was much +astonished to hear this same snoring kind of noise, which had been +so common in the month of July. On ascending the ruin, I found a +brood of young owls in the apartment.</p> +<p>Upon this ruin is placed a perch, about a foot from the hole at +which the owls enter. Sometimes, at midday, when the weather is +gloomy, you may see an owl upon it, apparently enjoying the +refreshing diurnal breeze. This year (1831) a pair of barn owls +hatched their young, on the 7th of September, in a sycamore tree +near the old ruined gateway.</p> +<p>If this useful bird caught its food by day, instead of hunting +for it by night, mankind would have ocular demonstration of its +utility in thinning the country of mice, and it would be protected +and encouraged every where. It would be with us what the ibis was +with the Egyptians. When it has young, it will bring a mouse to the +nest about every twelve or fifteen minutes. But, in order to have a +proper idea of the enormous quantity of mice which this bird +destroys we must examine the pellets which it ejects from its +stomach in the place of its retreat. Every pellet contains from +four to seven skeletons of mice. In sixteen months from the time +that the apartment of the owl on the old gateway was cleaned out, +there has been a deposit of above a bushel of pellets.</p> +<p>The barn owl sometimes carries off rats. One evening I was +sitting under a shed, and killed a very large rat, as it was coming +out of a hole, about ten yards from where I was watching it. I did +not go to take it up, hoping to get another shot. As it lay there, +a barn owl pounced upon it, and flew away with it.</p> +<p>This bird has been known to catch fish. Some years ago, on a +fine evening in the month of July, long before it was dark, as I +was standing on the middle of the bridge, and minuting the owl by +my watch, as she brought mice into her nest, all on a sudden she +dropped perpendicularly into the water. Thinking that she had +fallen down in epilepsy, my first thoughts were to go and fetch the +boat; but before I had well got to the end of the bridge, I saw the +owl rise out of the water with a fish in her claws, and take it to +the nest. This fact is mentioned by the late much revered and +lamented Mr. Atkinson of Leeds, in his <i>Compendium</i>, in a +note, under the signature of W., a friend of his, to whom I had +communicated it a few days after I had witnessed it.</p> +<p>I cannot make up my mind to pay any attention to the description +of the amours of the owl by a modern writer; at least the barn owl +plays off no buffooneris here, such as those which he describes. An +owl is an owl all the world over, whether under the influence of +Momus, Venus, or Diana.</p> +<p>When farmers complain that the barn owl destroys the eggs of +their pigeons, they lay the saddle on the wrong horse. They ought +to put it on the rat. Formerly I could get very few young pigeons +till the rats were excluded effectually from the dovecot. Since +that took place, it has produced a great abundance every year, +though the barn owls frequent it, and are encouraged all around it. +The barn owl merely resorts to it for repose and concealment. If it +were really an enemy to the dovecot, we should see the pigeons in +commotion as soon as it begins its evening flight; but the pigeons +heed it not: whereas if the sparrow-hawk or windhover should make +their appearance, the whole community would be up at once, proof +sufficient that the barn owl is not looked upon as a bad, or even a +suspicious, character by the inhabitants of the dovecot.</p> +<p>Till lately, a great and well-known distinction has always been +made betwixt the screeching and the hooting of owls. The tawny owl +is the only owl which hoots; and when I am in the woods after +poachers, about an hour before daybreak, I hear with extreme +delight its loud, clear, and sonorous notes, resounding far and +near through hill and dale. Very different from these notes is the +screech of the barn owl. But Sir William Jardine informs us that +this owl hoots; and that he has shot it in the act of hooting. This +is stiff authority; and I believe it because it comes from the pen +of Sir William Jardine. Still, however, methinks that it ought to +be taken in a somewhat diluted state; we know full well that most +extraordinary examples of splendid talent do, from time to time, +make their appearance on the world's wide stage. Thus, Franklin +brought down fire from the skies:—"Eripuit fulmen coelo, +sceptrumque tyrannis." <a id="footnotetag3" name= +"footnotetag3"></a> <a href="#footnote3"><sup>3</sup></a> Paganini +has led all London captive, by a single piece of twisted +catgut:—"Tu potes reges comitesque stultos ducere." <a id= +"footnotetag4" name="footnotetag4"></a> <a href= +"#footnote4"><sup>4</sup></a> Leibnetz tells us of a dog in Germany +that could pronounce distinctly thirty words, Goldsmith informs us +that he once heard a <span class="pagenum"><a id="page40" name= +"page40"></a>[pg 40]</span> raven whistle the tune of the +"Shamrock," with great distinctness, truth, and humour. With these +splendid examples before our eyes, may we not be inclined to +suppose that the barn owl which Sir William shot in the absolute +act of hooting may have been a gifted bird, of superior parts and +knowledge (una de multis, <a id="footnotetag5" name= +"footnotetag5"></a> <a href="#footnote5"><sup>5</sup></a> as Horace +said of Miss Danaus), endowed perhaps, from its early days with the +faculty of hooting, or else skilled in the art by having been +taught it by its neighbour, the tawny owl? I beg to remark that +though I unhesitatingly grant the faculty of hooting to this one +particular individual owl, still I flatly refuse to believe that +hooting is common to barn owls in general. Ovid, in his sixth book +<i>Fastortim</i>, pointedly says that it screeched in his +day:—</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Est illis strigibus nomen: sed nominis hujus</p> +<p>Causa, quod horrendâ stridere nocte Solent." <a id= +"footnotetag6" name="footnotetag6"></a> <a href= +"#footnote6"><sup>6</sup></a></p> +</div> +</div> +<p>The barn owl may be heard shrieking here perpetually on the +portico, and in the large sycamore trees near the house. It shrieks +equally when the moon shines and when the night is rough and +cloudy; and he who takes an interest in it may here see the barn +owl the night through when there is a moon; and he may hear it +shriek when perching on the trees, or when it is on wing. He may +see it and hear it shriek, within a few yards of him, long before +dark; and again, often after daybreak, before it takes its final +departure to its wonted resting place. I am amply repaid for the +pains I have taken to protect and encourage the barn owl; it pays +me a hundred-fold by the enormous quantity of mice which it +destroys throughout the year. The servants now no longer wish to +persecute it. Often, on a fine summer's evening, with delight I see +the villagers loitering under the sycamore trees longer than they +would otherwise do, to have a peep at the barn owl, as it leaves +the ivy-mantled tower: fortunate for it, if, in lieu of exposing +itself to danger, by mixing with the world at large, it only knew +the advantage of passing its nights at home; for here</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"No birds that haunt my valley free</p> +<p class="i2">To slaughter I condemn;</p> +<p>Taught by the Power that pities me,</p> +<p class="i2">I learn to pity them."</p> +</div> +</div> +<p><i>Magazine of Natural History.</i></p> +<hr /> +<h3>VAMPIRE BAT.</h3> +<p>This species of bat is abundant at Tongatabu, and most of the +Polynesian Islands. At the sacred burial place at Maofanga (island +of Tongatabu) they were pendant in great numbers from a lofty +Casuarina tree, which grew in the enclosure. One being shot, at +Tongatabu, it was given to a native, at his request, who took it +home to eat. From the number of skulls found in the huts at the +island of Erromanga (New Hebrides group), and the ribs being also +worn in clusters, as ornaments, in the ears, they very probably +form an article of food among the natives. Capt. S.P. Henry related +to me, that when at Aiva (one of the Fidji group) he fired at some +of these bats, which he had observed hanging from the trees, on +which they all flew up, making a loud screaming noise, at the same +time discharging their foeces on the assailants.—<i>Mr. +G.B.'s MS. Journal, August, 1829.</i></p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>THE SELECTOR AND LITERARY NOTICES OF WORKS.</h2> +<hr /> +<h3>ANNUAL BIOGRAPHY AND OBITUARY OF 1831.</h3> +<p>Within this volume, it may almost be said, "keeps death his +antic court." It comprises biographies of celebrated persons, who +have died within the year, as well as a General Biographical List +of others lower in the roll of fame. The biographies are 31 in +number: among them are memoirs of Henry Mackenzie, Elliston, +Jackson the artist, Abernethy, Mrs. Siddons, Rev. Robert Hall, +Thomas Hope, Carrington, the poet of Dartmoor, Northcote the +artist, and the Earl of Norbury, and William Roscoe. These names +alone would furnish a volume of the most interesting character, and +they are aided by others of almost equal note. The memoirs are from +various sources, in part original; but, as we have cause to know +the difficulty of procuring biographical particulars of persons +recently deceased, from their surviving relatives, we are not +surprised at the paucity of such details in the present volume. +Nevertheless some of the papers are stamped with this original +value; as the memoirs of Mrs. Siddons and Mr. Thomas Hope. Our +extracts are of the anecdotic turn.</p> +<p><i>Abernethy.</i></p> +<p>An anecdote illustrative of the sound integrity, as well as of +the humour, of Mr. Abernethy's character, may here be introduced. +On his receiving the appointment of Professor of Anatomy and +Surgery to the Royal College of Surgeons, a professional friend +observed to him that they should now have <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page41" name="page41"></a>[pg 41]</span> something +new.—"What do you mean?" asked Mr. Abernethy. "Why," said the +other, "of course you will brush up the lectures which you have +been so long delivering at St. Bartholomew's Hospital, and let us +have them in an improved form."—"Do you take me for a fool or +a knave?" rejoined Mr. Abernethy. "I have always given the students +at the Hospital that to which they are entitled—the best +produce of my mind. If I could have made my lectures to them +better, I would certainly have made them so. I will give the +College of Surgeons precisely the same lectures, down to the +smallest details:—nay, I will tell the old fellows how to +make a poultice." Soon after, when he was lecturing to the students +at St. Bartholomew's, and adverting to the College of Surgeons, he +chucklingly exclaimed, "I told the big wigs how to make a +poultice!" It is said by those who have witnessed it, that Mr +Abernethy's explanation of the art of making a poultice was +irresistibly entertaining.</p> +<p>"Pray, Mr. Abernethy, what is a cure for gout?" was the question +of an indolent and luxurious citizen. "Live upon sixpence +a-day—and earn it!" was the pithy answer.</p> +<p>A scene of much entertainment once took place between our +eminent surgeon and the famous John Philpot Curran. Mr. Curran, it +seems, being personally unknown to him, had visited Mr. Abernethy +several times without having had an opportunity of fully explaining +(as he thought) the nature of his malady: at last, determined to +have a hearing, when interrupted in his story, he fixed his dark +bright eye on the "doctor," and said—"Mr. Abernethy, I have +been here on eight different days, and I have paid you eight +different guineas; but you have never yet listened to the symptoms +of my complaint. I am resolved, Sir, not to leave this room till +you satisfy me by doing so." Struck by his manner, Mr. Abernethy +threw himself back in his chair, and assuming the posture of a most +indefatigable listener, exclaimed, in a tone of half surprise, half +humour,—"Oh! very well, Sir; I am ready to hear you out. Go +on, give me the whole—your birth, parentage, and education. I +wait your pleasure; go on." Upon which Curran, not a whit +disconcerted, gravely began:—"My name is John Philpot Curran. +My parents were poor, but I believe honest people, of the province +of Munster, where also I was born, at Newmarket, in the County of +Cork, in the year one thousand seven hundred and fifty. My father +being employed to collect the rents of a Protestant gentleman, of +small fortune, in that neighbourhood, procured my admission into +one of the Protestant free-schools, where I obtained the first +rudiments of my education. I was next enabled to enter Trinity +College, Dublin, in the humble sphere of a <i>sizer</i>:"—and +so he continued for several minutes, giving his astonished hearer a +true, but irresistibly laughable account of his "birth, parentage, +and education," as desired, till he came to his illness and +sufferings, the detail of which was not again interrupted. It is +hardly necessary to add, that Mr. Abernethy's attention to his +gifted patient was, from that hour to the close of his life, +assiduous, unremitting, and devoted.</p> +<p>In lecturing, Mr. Abernethy's manner was peculiar, abrupt, and +conversational; and often when he indulged in episodes and +anecdotes he convulsed his class with laughter, especially when he +used to enforce his descriptions by earnest gesticulation. +Frequently, while lecturing, he would descend from his high stool, +on which he sat with his legs dangling, to exhibit to his class +some peculiar attitudes and movements illustrative of the results +of different casualties and disorders; so that a stranger coming +in, unacquainted with the lecturer's topics, might easily have +supposed him to be an actor entertaining his audience with a +monologue, after the manner of Matthews or Yates. This disposition, +indeed, gave rise to a joke among his pupils of "<i>Abernethy at +Home</i>," whenever he lectured upon any special subject. In +relating a case, he was seen at times to be quite fatigued with the +contortions into which he threw his body and limbs; and the stories +he would tell of his consultations, with the dialogue between his +patient and himself, were theatrical and comic to the greatest +degree.</p> +<p><i>Northcote and the present King.</i></p> +<p>A certain Royal Duke was at the head of those who chaperoned +Master Betty, the young Roscius, at the period when the +<i>furor</i> of fashion made all the <i>beau monde</i> consider it +an enviable honour to be admitted within throne-distance of the +boy-actor. Amongst others who obtained the privilege of making a +portrait of this chosen favourite of fortune, was Mr. +Northcote.</p> +<p>The royal Duke to whom we allude was in the habit of taking +Master Betty to Argyll Place in his own carriage; <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page42" name="page42"></a>[pg 42]</span> and there +were usually three or four ladies and gentlemen of rank, who either +accompanied his Royal Highness, or met him at the studio of the +artist.</p> +<p>Northcote, nothing awed by the splendid coteries thus assembled, +maintained his opinions upon all subjects that were +discussed,—and his independence obtained for him general +respect, though one pronounced him a cynic—another an +eccentric—another a humorist—another a +free-thinker—and the prince, with manly taste, in the +nautical phrase, dubbed him a d——d honest, independent, +little old fellow.</p> +<p>One day, however, the royal Duke, being left with only Lady +——, the young Roscius, and the painter, and his +patience being, perhaps, worn a little with the tedium of an +unusually long sitting, thought to beguile an idle minute by +quizzing the personal appearance of the Royal Academician. +Northcote, at no period of life, was either a buck, a blood, a fop, +or a maccaroni; he soon dispatched the business of dressing when a +young man; and, as he advanced to a later period, he certainly +could not be called a dandy. The loose gown in which he painted was +principally composed of shreds and patches, and might, perchance, +be half a century old; his white hair was sparingly bestowed on +each side, and his cranium was entirely bald. The royal visiter, +standing behind him whilst he painted, first gently lifted, or +rather twitched the collar of the gown, which Mr. Northcote +resented, by suddenly turning and expressing his displeasure by a +frown. Nothing daunted, his Royal Highness presently, with his +finger, touched the professor's grey locks, observing, "You do not +devote much time to the toilette, I perceive—pray how +long?"</p> +<p>Northcote instantly replied, "Sir, I never allow any one to take +personal liberties with me;—you are the first who ever +presumed to do so, and I beg your Royal Highness to recollect that +I am in my own house." He then resumed his painting.</p> +<p>The Prince, whatever he thought or felt, kept it to himself; +and, remaining silent for some minutes, Mr. Northcote addressed his +conversation to the lady, when the royal Duke, gently opening the +door of the studio, shut it after him, and walked away.</p> +<p>Northcote did not quit his post, but proceeded with the picture. +It happened that the royal carriage was not ordered until five +o'clock;—it was now not four. Presently the royal Duke +returned, reopened the door, and said, "Mr. Northcote, it rains; +pray lend me an umbrella." Northcote, without emotion, rang the +bell; the servant attended; and he desired her to bring her +mistress's umbrella, that being the best in the house, and +sufficiently handsome. The royal Duke patiently waited for it in +the back drawing-room, the studio door still open; when, having +received it, he again walked down stairs, attended by the female +servant. On her opening the street door, his Royal Highness thanked +her, and, spreading the umbrella, departed.</p> +<p>"Surely his Royal Highness is not gone,—I wish you would +allow me to ask," said Lady ——. "Certainly his Royal +Highness is gone," replied Northcote; "but I will inquire at your +instance." The bell was rung again, and the servant confirmed the +assertion.</p> +<p>"Dear Mr. Northcote," said Lady ——, "I fear you have +highly offended his Royal Highness."—"Madam," replied the +painter, "I am the offended party." Lady —— made no +remark, except wishing that her carriage had arrived. When it came, +Mr. Northcote courteously attended her down to the hall: he bowed, +she curtsied, and stepping into her carriage, set off with the +young Roscius.</p> +<p>The next day, about noon, Mr. Northcote happening to be alone, a +gentle tap was heard, and the studio door being opened, in walked +his Royal Highness. "Mr. Northcote," said he, "I am come to return +your sister's umbrella, which she was so good as to lend me +yesterday." The painter bowed, received it, and placed it in a +corner.</p> +<p>"I brought it myself, Mr. Northcote, that I might have the +opportunity of saying that I yesterday thoughtlessly took a very +unbecoming liberty with you, and you properly resented it. I really +am angry with myself, and hope you will forgive me, and think no +more of it."</p> +<p>"And what did you say?" inquired the first friend to whom +Northcote related the circumstance. "Say! Gude God! what would 'e +have me have said? Why, nothing? I only bowed, and he might see +what I felt. I could, at the instant, have sacrificed my life for +him!—such a Prince is worthy to be a King!" The venerable +painter had the gratification to live to see him a King. May he +long remain so!</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS.</h2> +<hr /> +<h3>THE DEVIL'S SONATA.</h3> +<p>Tartini's compositions are very numerous, consisting of above a +hundred <span class="pagenum"><a id="page43" name="page43"></a>[pg +43]</span> sonatas, and as many concertos. Among them is the famous +"Sonata del Diavolo," of the origin of which Tartini himself gave +the following account to the celebrated astronomer +Lalande:—</p> +<p>"One night, in the year 1713, I dreamed that I had made a +compact with his Satanic Majesty, by which he was received into my +service. Everything succeeded to the utmost of my desires, and my +every wish was anticipated by my new domestic. I thought that, on +taking up my violin to practise, I jocosely asked him if he could +play on this instrument? He answered, that he believed he was able +to pick out a tune; when, to my astonishment, he began a sonata, so +strange, and yet so beautiful, and executed in so masterly a +manner, that in the whole course of my life I had never heard +anything so exquisite. So great was my amazement that I could +scarcely breathe. Awakened by the violence of my feelings, I +instantly seized my violin, in the hope of being able to catch some +part of the ravishing melody which I had just heard, but all in +vain. The piece which I composed according to my scattered +recollections is, it is true, the best I ever produced. I have +entitled it 'Sonata del Diavolo;' but it is so far inferior to that +which had made so forcible an impression on me, that I should have +dashed my violin into a thousand pieces, and given up music for +ever in despair, had it been possible to deprive myself of the +enjoyments which I receive from it."</p> +<p>Time, and the still more surprising flights of more modern +performers, have deprived this famous sonata of anything diabolical +which it may once have appeared to possess; but it has great fire +and originality, and contains difficulties of no trifling +magnitude, even at the present day. That process of mind, by which +we sometimes hear in sleep a beautiful piece of music, an eloquent +discourse, or a fine poem, seems one of those mysterious things +which show how fearfully and wonderfully we are made. It would +appear that there are times when the soul, in that partial disunion +between it and the body which takes place during sleep, and when it +sees, hears, and acts, without the intervention of the bodily +organs, exerts powers of which at other times its material trammels +render it incapable.—What powers may it not exert when the +disunion shall be total!</p> +<p>(From an interesting paper on "the Violin," in the +<i>Metropolitan</i>.)</p> +<hr /> +<h3>THE CAMBRIDGE "FRESHMAN."</h3> +<p>See a stripling alighting from the Cambridge "Fly" at Crisford's +Hotel, Trumpington-street. It is a day or two before the +commencement of the October term, and a small cluster of gownsmen +are gathered round to make their several recognitions of returning +friends, in spite of shawls, cloaks, petershams, patent gambroons, +and wrap-rascals, in which they are enveloped; while our +fresh-comer's attention is divided between their sable "curtains" +and solicitude for his bags and portmanteau. If his pale cheek and +lack-lustre eye could speak but for a moment, like Balaam's ass, +what painful truths would they discover! what weary watchings over +the midnight taper would they describe! If those fingers, which are +now as white as windsor soap can make them, could complain of their +wrongs, what contaminations with dusty Ainsworth and Scapulas would +they enumerate! if his brain were to reveal its labours, what +labyrinths of prose and verse, in which it has been bewildered when +it had no clue of a friendly translation, or Clavis to conduct it +through the wanderings, would it disclose! what permutations and +combinations of commas, what elisions and additions of letters, +what copious annotations on a word, an accent, or a stop, +parallelizing a passage of Plato with one of Anacreon, one of +Xenophon with one of Lycophron, or referring the juvenile reader to +a manuscript in the Vatican,—what inexplicable explanations +would it anathematize!</p> +<p>The youth calls on a friend, and if "gay" is inveigled into a +"wet night," and rolls back to the hotel at two in the morning +<i>Bacchi plenus</i>, whereas the "steady man" regales himself with +sober Bohea, talks of Newton and Simeon, resolves to read +mathematics with Burkitt, go to chapel fourteen times a week, and +never miss Trinity Church <a id="footnotetag7" name= +"footnotetag7"></a> <a href="#footnote7"><sup>7</sup></a> on +Thursday evenings. The next day he asks the porter of his college +where the tutor lives; the key-bearing Peter laughs in his face, +and tells him where he <i>keeps</i>; he reaches the tutor's rooms, +finds the door <i>sported</i>, and knocks till his knuckles bleed. +He talks of Newton to his tutor, and his tutor thinks him a fool. +He sallies forth from Law's (the tailor's) for the first time in +the academical toga and trencher, marches most majestically across +the grass-plot in the quadrangle of his college, is summoned before +the master, who had caught sight <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page44" name="page44"></a>[pg 44]</span> of him from the +lodge-windows, and reprimanded. His gown is a spick-and-span new +one, of orthodox length, and without a single rent; he caps every +Master of Arts he meets; besides a few Bachelors, and gets into the +gutter to give them the wall. He comes into chapel in his surplice, +and sees it is not surplice-morning, runs back to his rooms for his +gown, and on his return finds the second lesson over. He has a +tremendous larum at his bed's head, and turns out every day at five +o'clock in imitation of Paley. He is in the lecture-room the very +moment the clock has struck eight, and takes down every word the +tutor says. He buys "Hints to Freshmen," reads it right through, +and resolves to eject his sofa from his rooms. <a id="footnotetag8" +name="footnotetag8"></a> <a href="#footnote8"><sup>8</sup></a> He +talks of the roof of King's chapel, walks through the market-place +to look at Hobson's conduit, and quotes Milton's sonnet on that +famous carrier. He proceeds to Peter House to see Gray's +fire-escape, and to Christ's to steal a bit of Milton's mulberry +tree. He borrows all the mathematical MSS. he can procure, and +stocks himself with scribbling paper enough for the whole college. +He goes to a wine-party, toasts the university officers, sings +sentiments, asks for tongs to sugar his coffee, finds his cap and +gown stolen and old ones left in their place. He never misses St. +Mary's (the University Church) on Sundays, is on his legs directly +the psalmody begins, and is laughed at by the other gownsmen. He +reads twelve or thirteen hours a day, and talks of being a +wrangler. He is never on the wrong side of the gates after ten, and +his buttery bills are not wound up with a single penny of fines. He +leaves the rooms of a friend in college, rather late perhaps, and +after ascending an Atlas-height of stairs, and hugging himself with +the anticipation of crawling instanter luxuriously to bed, finds +his door broken down, his books in the coal-scuttle and grate, his +papers covered with more curves than Newton or Descartes could +determine, his bed in the middle of the room, and his surplice on +whose original purity he had so prided himself, drenched with ink. +If he is matriculated he laughs at the <i>beasts</i> (those who are +not matriculated), and mangles slang: <i>wranglers, fops, and +medalists become</i> quite "household words" to him. He walks to +Trumpington every day before <i>hall</i> to get an appetite for +dinner, and never misses grace. He speaks reverently of masters and +tutors, and does not curse even the proctors; he is merciful to his +wine-bin, which is chiefly saw-dust, pays his bills, and owes +nobody a guinea—he is a Freshman!—<i>Monthly +Magazine.</i></p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>THE NOVELIST.</h2> +<hr /> +<h3>THE CONFESSION OF SERVENTIUS.</h3> +<h4><i>From the Latin of an ancient Paduan Manuscript.</i></h4> +<h4><i>By Miss M.L. Beevor.</i></h4> +<h4><i>(For the Mirror.)</i></h4> +<p>The hours of my weary existence are fast verging to a close: +already have the dreadful preparations commenced. Heavily falls the +sound of the midnight bell upon my shrinking ear; upon my withered, +quailing heart, it is <i>felt</i> in every stroke like a +thunder-bolt; and the rude, reckless shout, heard, though far +distant, as distinctly as the fearful throbbings of that miserable +heart, tells but too eloquently that the faggots have reached their +place of destination, and that the fearful pile is even now +erecting. Once I believed myself one of the most courageous of men; +I have beheld <i>death</i> in many terrible shapes, and feared it +in none; but, oh! to burn,—to <i>burn!</i> this is a thing +from which the startled spirit recoils in speechless horror, and +vainly, vainly strives to wrench itself by forceful thought from +the shuddering, encumbering frame! Even now, do I seem to behold +the finger of scorn pointed at me;—ay,—at ME! whilst +bound to the firm stake with thongs, strong as the iron bands of +death, I cannot even writhe under the anguish of shame, wrath, and +apprehended bodily torture! The pile is lighted,—the last +words of the reckless priest have died upon mine ear, and his +figure and countenance, with the myriad forms and faces, of the +insulting multitude around me, are lost in suffocating volumes of +uprising, dense, white smoke! The blaze enfolds me like a garment! +my unspeakable tortures,—my infernal agonies have +commenced!—the diabolical shouts and shrieks of the fiendish +spectators—the crackling and hissing of my tender +flesh—the bursting of my over swollen tendons, muscles, and +arteries, with the out-gush of the crimson vital stream from every +pore,—I hear,—I see,—I feel,—and in my +morbid imagination, die many deaths in one! I fancied myself brave; +alas! I never fancied myself—<i>burning!</i> But, no more; +since I have taken up my pen solely to wile away these last, brief, +melancholy hours, in <span class="pagenum"><a id="page45" name= +"page45"></a>[pg 45]</span> narrating those circumstances of my +past life, which shall have tended to shrivel ere long, amidst +diabolical agonies, the trembling hand that records them, like a +parched scroll, and to scatter the ashes of this now vigorous body, +to the winds.</p> +<p>ROME,—the beautiful—the Eternal,—was my +birthplace; and those, whom I was taught to consider as my parents, +said, that the blood of its ancient heroes filled my veins. If +so,—and if Servilius and Andrea, were indeed my progenitors, +our family must have suffered the most amazing reverses of fortune; +they were venders of fruit, lemonade, and perfumed iced waters, in +the streets, but a kind-hearted pair, and for their station, +well-informed.</p> +<p>In the clear moon-light of our Italian skies, in those soft +nights, when, instead of ingloriously slumbering away the cool calm +hours, all come forth who are capable of feeling the beauties and +sublimities of nature, and of inhaling inspiration with the rich, +odorous breeze,—in those fresh, fragrant, and impassioned +hours, did Servilius and Andrea delight to lead me through ROME, +and to <i>read</i> the Eternal City unto me, as a book; and then +fell upon me, in that most sacred place, a portion of divine +enthusiasm, of holy inspiration, until, in a retrospect of the +thoughts, feelings, schemes, and aspirations of that infantile era, +freely could I weep, and ask myself, were such things in sober +earnest, <i>ever?</i></p> +<p>It was singular, that Servilius and Andrea, never suffered +<i>me</i> to toil; their sole care seemed to be, to bestow upon me, +during their intervals of labour, all the instruction and +accomplishments which their limited means allowed; and without +vanity I may affirm, that my mind richly repaid them for the +trouble of cultivation. I trust I was not haughty in my childhood, +but when I observed other boys of my age and station, +water-carriers, labourers in the vineyards, and engaged in various +menial occupations from which I was exempted, the knowledge that in +<i>something</i> I was regarded as their superior, soon forced +itself upon me; I felt a distaste for the society of little +unlettered, and unmannered boors, and in silence and solitude made +progress in studies, which, mere matters of amusement to me, would +have been hailed by many youths as tasks more severe than daily +manual labour.</p> +<p>Servilius and Andrea associated with but few in their own rank +of life; but now and then received visits from their superiors; +amongst these were two, whom I shall never, never cease to +remember, and to lament, and to whom, as I look backwards through +the vista of five-and-thirty years, I still cannot forbear +imagining that <i>I</i> was <i>related</i> by no <i>common +ties</i>. Of this interesting pair, one was a lady, young, pale, +but strikingly beautiful, and the other, a cavalier, her senior but +by a very few years, handsome, noble, graceful and +accomplished.</p> +<p>Artemisia, so was the lady called, always wore the costume of a +religious house when she visited Andrea, but whether this were +merely assumed for convenience, or whether she were actually one of +the holy sisterhood, I had then neither the desire, nor the means +of ascertaining; I only know, that she used sometimes to call me +her "dear child," and seemed to vie in affection for me, with the +cavalier. Serventius,—yes—the noble gentleman bore my +name, for which I liked him all the better, used occasionally to +meet her at the house of Servilius and Andrea; and their affection +for each other struck even my childish spirit as being more than +fraternal; shall I also confess, that I indulged myself in the +indistinct idea—the sweet dream—that this noble, +virtuous, accomplished, and beautiful pair, (whose only object in +visiting our humble residence seemed to be to behold me) were my +real parents, and that of Servilius and Andrea, I was only the +foster-child.</p> +<p>One evening Serventius and Artemisia having concluded their +usual repast of bread, honey, eggs and fruit, amused themselves by +asking me a thousand different questions concerning the history, +biography, geography, customs, religion, and arts of the ancient +Romans, to all of which, my replies were, it seems, extremely +satisfactory. Serventius warmly thanked Servilius and Andrea for +the pains they had bestowed upon my education, and then said, +turning to me:</p> +<p>"My son, the time is coming when we must begin to think of some +profession for you; what do you desire to be?"</p> +<p>"A soldier," said I.</p> +<p>"Then ask that lady."</p> +<p>I flew to Artemisia, who shook her head at me. "She will +not—she will not, Sir," I exclaimed, "let me be a soldier +like you."</p> +<p>"No, my dear, I know she will not; she cannot spare you to go to +the wars and get killed, so you must make up your mind never to be +a soldier."</p> +<p>"Then," answered I proudly, "I will be a poet." Hereupon +Artemisia and Serventius laughed, and informed me that the +profession of a poet, if such it <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page46" name="page46"></a>[pg 46]</span> might be termed, was the +most laborious, thankless, and ill requited of any, and that to be +a poet, was in fact little better than being an honourable +mendicant. The Church and the Bar were mentioned, but as I +expressed a decided antipathy to them, Serventius named the medical +profession.</p> +<p>"Yes," said I, with great glee, "I like that, and I will be a +doctor;" for the bustle, importance, visiting, and gossiping of the +honourable fraternity of physicians, had given me an idea that the +profession itself was one of unmingled pleasure! Hapless choice! +Miserable infatuation! And shall I most blame myself for selecting +that which has caused my present fatal situation, or the foolish +fondness which placed in the hands of a child, the decision of his +future fate? But, let me proceed; the first faint glimmerings of +dawn are stealing into my grated cell, and, at noon—I +shudder...</p> +<p>Shortly after this memorable conversation, Andrea and Servilius +appeared overwhelmed with affliction, and one evening brought home +with them a large package, containing as I supposed, new clothes; +next morning, I found that those which I had been accustomed to +wear had been removed whilst I slept, and in their stead, suits of +the very deepest mourning appeared. I dressed myself in one of +these, and upon asking Servilius and his wife the meaning of this +change, was answered by Andrea with so wild a burst of grief, and +incoherent lamentation, that I durst inquire no further. After they +had gone forth to their daily employment I also quitted the cottage +for a stroll, and detected a woman pointing me out to her children +as "a poor, little boy, who had probably lost both his parents." +"That I have not," said I, sharply, "for I breakfasted with them +not half an hour ago!" The woman stared at me with an expression of +doubt, and muttering something that sounded extremely like "little +liar," turned from me, and went her way.</p> +<p><i>(To be concluded in our next.)</i></p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>SPIRIT OF DISCOVERY</h2> +<hr /> +<h3>ORIGIN OF PRAIRIES.</h3> +<p>The origin of prairies has occasioned much theory; it is to our +mind very simple: they are caused by the Indian custom of annually +burning the leaves and grass in autumn, which prevents the growth +of any young trees. Time thus will form prairies; for, some of the +old trees annually perishing, and there being no undergrowth to +supply their place, they become thinner every year; and, as they +diminish, they shade the grass less, which therefore grows more +luxuriantly; and, where a strong wind carries a fire through dried +grass and leaves, which cover the earth with combustible matter +several feet deep, the volume of flame destroys all before it; the +very animals cannot escape. We have seen it enwrap the forest upon +which it was precipitated, and destroy whole acres of trees. After +beginning;, the circle widens every year, until the prairies expand +boundless as the ocean. Young growth follows the American +settlement, since the settler keeps off those annual burnings.</p> +<p><i>American Quarterly Review</i>.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>SUTTON WASH EMBANKMENT.</h3> +<p>This is said to be one of the grandest public works ever +achieved in England. It is an elevated mound of earth, with a road +over, carried across an estuary of the sea situated between Lynn +and Boston, and shortening the distance between the two towns more +than fifteen miles. This bank has to resist, for four hours in +every twelve, the weight and action of the German Ocean, preventing +it from flowing over 15,000 acres of mud, which will very soon +become land of the greatest fertility. In the centre the tide flows +up a river, which is destined to serve as a drain to the embanked +lands, and has a bridge over it of oak, with a movable centre of +cast iron, for the purpose of admitting ships.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>BRITISH IRON TRADE.</h3> +<p>The following view of the progressive and wonderful increase of +the iron-trade is extracted from the Companion to the Almanac for +1829:—</p> +<pre> + Iron made in Number + Great Britain. of + Tons. Furnaces. + In 1740 17,000 59 + 1788 68,000 85 + 1796 125,000 121 + 1806 250,000 + 1820 400,000 + 1827 690,000 284 +</pre> +<p>The difference iron districts in which it is made are as under, +in 1827:</p> +<pre> + Tons. Furnaces. + South Wales, 272,000 90 + Staffordshire, 216,000 95 + Shropshire, 78,000 31 + Yorkshire, 43,000 24 + Scotland, 36,500 18 + North Wales, 24,000 12 + Derbyshire, 20,500 14 +</pre> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page47" name="page47"></a>[pg +47]</span> "About 3/10ths of this quantity is of a quality suitable +for the foundry, which is all used in Great Britain and Ireland, +with the exception of a small quantity exported to France and +America. The other 7/10ths is made into bars, rods, sheets," +&c. It will be seen that the make of the Welsh furnaces is much +greater with reference to their number, than that of any other +district. By a Parliamentary paper, it is stated that in 1828, of +"Iron and Steel, wrought and unwrought," there were exported from +Great Britain, 100,403 tons, of the <i>declared</i> (under real) +value of 1,226,617<i>l</i>. In the same year 15,495 tons of bar +iron was imported from abroad. We believe since 1828, the export of +iron has greatly increased. Our foreign trade, however, is likely +to receive a check in a short period. Both the French and Americans +are beginning to manufacture extensively for themselves; a result +that might naturally be anticipated. An extensive new joint-stock +company has been established in the former country, one of the +principal proprietors of which is Marshal Soult, and works on a +great scale are forming near Montpellier. We have always thought +that it was excessively injudicious to permit our machinery to be +exported abroad; and it appears that the British iron masters are +now constructing the machinery for these very works, where it is +stated that pig iron can be made for half the price it now costs to +manufacture it in this country. The exportation of machinery is +continually increasing, for we find by a Parliamentary paper, the +declared value in 1824 stated at 129,652<i>l.</i>, while the +machinery exported in 1829, amounts to 256,539<i>l</i>. Time will +exhibit the policy of such proceedings.—VYVYAN.</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>THE GATHERER.</h2> +<hr /> +<h3>FREDERICK I. OF PRUSSIA,</h3> +<p>Whose chief pleasure was in the proficiency of his troops in +military discipline, whenever a new soldier made his first +appearance in the guards, asked him three questions. The first was, +"How old are you?" the second, "How long have you been in my +service?" and the third, if he received his pay and his clothing as +he wished.</p> +<p>A young Frenchman, who had been well disciplined, offered +himself to enter the guards, where he was immediately accepted, in +consequence of his experience in military tactics. The young +recruit did not understand the Prussian language; so that the +captain informed him, that when the king saw him first on the +parade, he would make the usual inquiries of him in the Prussian +language, therefore he must learn to make the suitable answers, in +the form of which he was instructed. As soon as the king beheld a +new face in the ranks, taking a lusty piece of snuff, he went up to +him, and, unluckily for the soldier, he put the second question +first, and asked him how long he had been in his service. The +soldier answered as he was instructed, "Twenty-one years, and +please your Majesty." The king was struck with his figure, which +did not announce his age to be more than the time he answered he +had been in his service. "How old are you?" said the king, in +surprise. "One year, please your Majesty." The king, still more +surprised, said, "Either you or I must be a fool!" The soldier, +taking this for the third question, relative to his pay and +clothing, replied, "Both, please your Majesty." "This is the first +time," said Frederick, still more surprised, "that I have been +called a fool at the head of my own guards."</p> +<p>The soldier's stock of instruction was now exhausted; and when +the monarch still pursued the design of unravelling the mystery, +the soldier informed him he could speak no more German, but that he +would answer him in his native tongue.</p> +<p>Here Frederick perceived the nature of the situation, at which +he laughed very heartily, and advised the young man to apply +himself to learning the language of Prussia, and mind his duty.</p> +<p>I.B.D.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>HALF-HANGED.—ANNE GREEN.</h3> +<p>Derham, in his <i>Physico-Theology</i> on Respiration, +says—"The story of Anne Green, executed at Oxford, December +14, 1650, is still well remembered among the seniors there. She was +hanged by the neck near half an hour, some of her friends in the +mean time thumping her on the breast, others hanging with all their +weight upon her legs, sometimes lifting her up, and then pulling +her down again with a sudden jerk, thereby the sooner to dispatch +her out of her pain, as her printed account wordeth it. After she +was in her coffin, being observed to breathe, a lusty fellow +stamped with all his force on her breast and stomach, to put her +out of her pain; but, by the assistance of Dr. Piety, Dr. Willis, +Dr. Bathurst, and Dr. Clark, she was again brought to life. I +myself saw her many years after, after she had (I heard) borne +divers children. The <span class="pagenum"><a id="page48" name= +"page48"></a>[pg 48]</span> particulars of her crime, execution, +and restoration, see in a little pamphlet, called <i>News from the +Dead</i>, written, as I have been informed, by Dr. Bathurst +(afterwards the most vigilant and learned President of Trinity +College, Oxon), and published in 1651, with verses upon the +occasion."</p> +<p>P.T.W.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>ENIGMATICAL REPLIES.</h3> +<p>A pleasant young fellow, about half-seas-over, passing through +the Strand at a late hour, was accosted by a watchman, who began +with all the insolence of office to file a string of +interrogatories, in the hope of being handsomly paid for his +trouble.</p> +<p>"What is your name, sir?"—"Five Shillings."</p> +<p>"Where do you live?"—"Out of the king's dominions."</p> +<p>"Where have you been?"—"Where you would have been with all +your heart."</p> +<p>"Where are you going?"—"Where you dare not go for your +ears."</p> +<p>The officious guardian of the night thought these answers +sufficient to warrant him to take the young man to the watch-house. +The next morning, on being brought before the magistrate, he told +his worship, "that as to the first question, his name was Thomas +Crown; with regard to the second, he lived in Little Britain; with +respect to the third, he had been drinking a glass of wine with a +friend; and that as to the last," said he, "I was going home to my +wife." The magistrate reprimanded the watchman in severe terms, and +wished Mr. Crown a good morning.—I.B.D.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>SMUGGLING EXTRAORDINARY.</h3> +<p>General Anstruther, having made himself unpopular, was obliged, +on his return to Scotland, to pass in disguise to his own estate; +and crossing a frith, he said to the waterman, "This is a pretty +boat, I fancy you sometimes smuggle with it." The fellow replied, +"I never smuggled a Brigadier before."</p> +<hr /> +<h3>A NOBLE COUNT.</h3> +<p>Amadeus the Ninth, Count of Savoy, being once asked where he +kept his hounds, he pointed to a great number of poor people, who +were seated at tables, eating and drinking, and replied, "Those are +my hounds, with whom I go in chase of Heaven." When he was told +that his alms would exhaust his revenues, "Take the collar of my +order," said he, "sell it, and relieve my people." He was surnamed +"the Happy."</p> +<p>P.T.W.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>EPITAPHS.</h3> +<p><i>In Stratford Churchyard, near Salisbury.</i></p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>To the memory of Elizabeth,wife of</p> +<p class="i2">William Brunsdon, who died Dec. 31,</p> +<p class="i2">1779, aged 101 years.</p> +<br /> +<p>Freed from the sorrows, sickness, pain, and care,</p> +<p>To which all breath-inspired clay is heir,</p> +<p>The tend'rest mother, and the worthiest wife,</p> +<p>Reaps the full harvest of a well-spent life.</p> +<p>Here rest her ashes with her kindred dust—</p> +<p>Death's only conquest o'er the favoured just:</p> +<p>Her soul in Christ the tyrant's power defied,</p> +<p>And the <i>Saint</i> triumphed when the woman died.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p><i>In Amesbury Churchyard, Witts.</i></p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>When sorrow weeps o'er virtue's sacred dust,</p> +<p>Then tears become us, and our grief is just;</p> +<p>Such cause had she to weep who gratefully pays</p> +<p>This last sad tribute of her love and praise,</p> +<p>Who mourns a sister and a friend combined,</p> +<p>Where female softness met a manly mind:</p> +<p>Mourns, but not murmurs—sighs, but not despairs—</p> +<p>Feels for her loss, but as a Christian bears.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>COLBOURNE.</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h3>FAMILIAR SCIENCE.</h3> +<p>On January 31st will be published, with many Engravings, price +5<i>s</i>.,</p> +<pre> + ARCANA OF SCIENCE, + AND + ANNUAL REGISTER of the USEFUL ARTS, + for 1832: +</pre> +<p>Abridged from the Transactions of Public Societies, and +Scientific Journals, British and Foreign, for the past year.</p> +*** This volume will contain all the Important Facts in the year +1831—in the +<pre> + MECHANIC ARTS, + CHEMICAL SCIENCE, + ZOOLOGY, + BOTANY, + MINERALOGY, + GEOLOGY, + METEOROLOGY, + RURAL ECONOMY, + GARDENING. + DOMESTIC ECONOMY, + USEFUL AND ELEGANT ARTS, + GEOGRAPHICAL DISCOVERIES, + MISCELLANEOUS SCIENTIFIC INFORMATION. +</pre> +<p>Printing for JOHN LIMBIRD, 143, Strand; of whom may be had +volumes (upon the same plan) for 1828, price 4<i>s</i>. 6<i>d</i>., +1829—30—31, price 5<i>s</i>. each.</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote1" name= +"footnote1"></a><b>Footnote 1</b>: <a href= +"#footnotetag1">(return)</a> Singapoor is derived from Sing-gah, +signifying to call or touch at, bait, stop by the way; and poor, a +village (generally fortified), a town, &c.—(Marsden's +Malay Dictionary). It is considered at this island, or rather at +this part of the island where the town is now situated (the name, +however, has been given by Europeans to the whole island), there +was formerly a village, inhabited principally by fishermen. The +Malays, who traded from the eastward to Malacca, and others of the +ports to the westward, touched at this place. Singa also signifies +a lion (known by name only in the Malay countries), from which the +name of the island has been (no doubt erroneously) supposed to be +derived.</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote2" name= +"footnote2"></a><b>Footnote 2</b>: <a href= +"#footnotetag2">(return)</a> Kampong Glam, near Sincapore, has its +flame derived, it is said, from Kampong, signifying a village; and +Glam, the name of a particular kind of tree.</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote3" name= +"footnote3"></a><b>Footnote 3</b>: <a href= +"#footnotetag3">(return)</a> "He snatched lightning from heaven, +and the sceptre from tyrants."</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote4" name= +"footnote4"></a><b>Footnote 4</b>: <a href= +"#footnotetag4">(return)</a> "Thou canst lead kings and their silly +nobles."</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote5" name= +"footnote5"></a><b>Footnote 5</b>: <a href= +"#footnotetag5">(return)</a> "One out of many."</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote6" name= +"footnote6"></a><b>Footnote 6</b>: <a href= +"#footnotetag6">(return)</a> "They are called owls (striges) +because they are accustomed to screech (stridere) by +night."</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote7" name= +"footnote7"></a><b>Footnote 7</b>: <a href= +"#footnotetag7">(return)</a> Mr. Simeon's. None of our well-beloved +renders, we presume, are so fresh as not to know this gentleman's +name.</blockquote> +<blockquote class="footnote"><a id="footnote8" name= +"footnote8"></a><b>Footnote 8</b>: <a href= +"#footnotetag8">(return)</a> One of the sage and momentous +injunctions of this pastoral charge.</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; G.G. BENNIS, 55, Rue Neuve, St. Augustin, Paris; and by +all Newsmen and Booksellers.</i></p> +<hr class="full" /> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11537 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/11537-h/images/530-001.png b/11537-h/images/530-001.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e502b8b --- /dev/null +++ b/11537-h/images/530-001.png |
