ORIGINAL POETRY. STANZAS. FROM THE GERMAN OF GOETHE. (For the London Saturday Journal.) IN yonder greenwood I rambled free, Alone to be. A modest flower I chanced to spy, Like starlight shining I fain would pluck it, "Must I be broken I dug out gently The root and flower, And bore them home to In a quiet spot I placed it there, Where its growth is quicker, THE DROP. FROM THE GERMAN OF WILHELM WACKERNAGEL. (For the London Saturday Journal.) ONE drop into the sca Falls gently sounding, Small circles soon will be The spot surrounding. They widen fast, and now Whence came the drop, know'st thou ? 'Twas but a life that fell, And glimmered dying, The mirrored waters tell VARIETIES. WHY THE NETTLE STINGS.-The common or large nettle is known by grievous experience to every one, though, perhaps, you have never yet inquired whence the pain arises from touching it. The sting is not like a pin or needle, solid throughout; but is hollow at the centre, and perforated at the point; and, when touched, it is not only sharp enough to pierce the skin, but also is so constructed as to inject a particle of poisonous fluid into the wound it makes, and this is the source of the pain which follows. The wound itself is so minute that it would scarcely be felt; but the poison irritates, inflames, and causes the well-known pain alluded to. The plant, the small species of which stings the most severely, is covered all over with hairs: but, by using a microscope or a magnifying glass, you may perceive that these are not all of one kind, some being perforated, which are the stings, while others are not. Each sting stands upon a pedestal, and this pedestal performs the office both of gland and poison-bag. It is cellular and spongy within; the sting is placed on its top, and may be moved by a light pressure to either side, or round in a circle; it seems to stand, as it were, on a universal joint. When a body touches its point, the base is pressed down into the spongy pedestal, and the poisonous fluid rushes up through the tube of the sting, and flows out of the terminal aperture. -Drummond's Letters. LUTHER'S CHARACTER OF HIMSELF AND MELANCTHON. "I have always greater pleasure in seeing Melancthon's books, whether in Latin or German, exposed for sale, than my own. I am born to this-to war and battle with troops of devils, so that my books are stormy and warlike. I have to break the clods, and root out the stocks, to hew away thorns and bushes, to fill up the pools; I am the rough forester, and have to break and lay down the road. But Philip travels delicately and quietly along it, builds and plants, sows and waters with pleasure, since God has richly endowed him with his gifts." The badge of mourning generally adopted by the ladies of New York, is a slip of black crape, tied in a knot and worn on the left wrist. The badge of the gentlemen is the usual slip of crape upon the left arm.- -New York Morning Herald. [This is a very great and a very sensible improvement on the English fashion, which often puts females to great expense at a time when they are least able to afford it.]—Liverpool Mercury. Counsellor Taylor defended a prisoner at the Bolton sessions, the other day. A witness for the prosecution pointed out the initials "J. P." on a piece of documentary evidence. "Where are they?" said the barrister: "I cannot see them." "There they are," replied the witness, pointing; "yo'd see 'em fast enough if yo wur for t'other soide!" (Roars of laughter.) "Whenever we step out of domestic life in search of felicity," says Lord Örrery, "we come back again, disappointed, tired, and chagrined." True. But if we never step out of it-if we neglect our duties as citizens—if we sit ever selfishly at our firesides, domestic life itself will lose more than half its charms. A hog was lying in the gutter the other day, and in the opposite one was a well-dressed man. The first had a ring in his nose-the latter a ring on his finger. The man was drunk -the hog was sober. "A hog (said a passer-by, sarcastically,) is known by the company he keeps." The beast-that is, the four-legged one-was nettled by the observation, and shifted his quarters. Lord Faulkner, author of The Marriage Night, was chosen very young to sit in parliament; upon which some of the older members opposed his admission, urging that he had not yet sown his wild oats. "Then," replied he, "it will be the best way to sow them in the house, where there are so many geese to pick them up!" PLAIN ADVICE TO A YOUNG COUNTRY ATTORNEY.-You cannot be too loud against the bench, too brow-beating towards witnesses; or too unflinching in the assertion of cases and precedents. Never mind your grammar-be garrulous. Fat, aged, vain old gentlemen in power and the commission of the peace, like to have law supplied to them by the ton, like coal from your wharf, and are not particular as to slatishness in quality, provided you deliver them as law coal.-Bentley's Miscellany. ABBOT, ABBA, &c.-Abba, in the Syriac and Chaldee languages, literally signifies a father; and figuratively, a superior, as abbot, &c. It is more particularly used in the Syriac, Coptic, and Ethiopic churches, as a title given to bishops. The bishops themselves bestowed the title of Abba, more anciently, on the Bishop of Alexandria; which occasioned the people to give him the title of "BABA, or PAPA;" that is, grandfather; a title which he bore before the Bishop of Rome. The word abbot is originally Hebrew, where it signifies father. The Jews call father in their language "ab;" whence the Chaldeans and Syrians formed abba; thence the Greek abbas, which the Latin retained; and hence the English abbot, and French abbé, &c. LONDON: W. BRITTAIN, PATERNOSTER ROW. Edinburgh: JOHN MENZIES. Glasgow: D. BRYCE. Dublin: CURRY & CO. Printed by J. Rider, 14, Bartholomew Close, London. LONDON SATURDAY JOURNAL. CONDUCTED BY JAMES GRANT, AUTHOR OF "RANDOM RECOLLECTIONS," "THE GREAT METROPOLIS," &c. AND FRANCIS ROSS, FORMERLY SOLE EDITOR OF THE JOURNAL. ILLUSTRATIONS OF HUMANITY. No. XXVI. THE CRUSADES.-PETER the times, pope Urban the second received him as a prophet, applauded his glorious design, promised to support in a general council, and encouraged him to proclaim the deliverance of the holy land. Invigorated by the approbation of the pontiff, his zealous missionary traversed with speed and success, the provinces of Italy and France. His diet was abstemious, his prayers long and fervent, and the alms which he his head was bare, his feet naked, his meagre body was wrapped in a coarse garment; he bore and displayed a weighty crucifix; and the ass on which he rode was sanctified, in the public eye, by the service of the man of God. He preached to innumerable crowds in the churches, the streets, and the highways. The hermit entered, with equal confidence, the palace and the cottage; and the people (for all were people) were impetuously moved by his call to repentance and arms. When he painted the sufferings of the natives and pilgrims of Palestine, every heart was melted to compassion; every breast glowed with indignation, when he challenged the warriors of the age to defend their brethren, and rescue their Saviour: his ignorance of art and language was compensated by sighs, and tears, and ejaculations and Peter supplied the deficiency of reason by loud and fre quent appeals to Christ and his mother, to the saints and angels of paradise, with whom he fancied he had personally conversed. The most perfect orator of Athens might have envied the success of his eloquence; the rustic enthusiast inspired the passions which he felt; and Christendom expected with impatience the counsels and decrees of the supreme pontiff." PILGRIMAGES to Jerusalem were common events amongst zealous or superstitious Christians from a very early period. After the rise of Mohammedan-received with one hand he distributed with the other; ism, the "Holy City" passed into the possession of the Arabian caliphs, the successors of Mohammed; but little or no interruption, except in the case of one caliph, was given to Christian pilgrimages. The Mohammedans had taken a leaf from the book of the Christians, and pilgrimages to the tomb of their own prophet had become a matter of religious duty. They, therefore, respected the intentions of Christians in visiting Jerusalem. The celebrated caliph Haroun al Raschid, whose name is so familiar to readers of the Arabian nights, even carried his polite civility so far as to send to Charlemagne "the keys of the holy sepulchre, and, perhaps, of the city of Jerusalem." But a great change took place when the Turks-then a fierce and savage people, and comparatively recent converts to Mohammedanism-got possession of Jerusalem. "The Christians, who, through innumerable perils, had reached the gates of Jerusalem, were the victims of private rapine or public oppression, and often sunk under the pressure of famine and disease, before they were permitted to salute the holy sepulchre. A spirit of native barbarism or recent zeal, prompted the Turkmans to insult the clergy of every sect; the patriarch was dragged by the hair along the pavement, and cast into a dungeon, to extort a ransom from the sympathy of his flock; and the Divine worship, in the church of the Resurrection, was often disturbed by the savage rudeness of its masters." We continue the narrative in the words of Gibbon : "About twenty years after the conquest of Jerusalem by the Turks, the holy sepulchre was visited by a hermit of the name of Peter, a native of Amiens, in the province of Picardy in France. His resentment and sympathy were excited by his own injuries and the oppression of the Christian name; he mingled his tears with those of the patriarch, and earnestly inquired if no hope of relief could be entertained from the Greek emperors of the East. The patriarch exposed the vices and weaknesses of the successors of Constantine. 'I will rouse,' exclaimed the hermit, 'the martial nations of Europe in your cause; and Europe was obedient to the call of the hermit. The astonished patriarch dismissed him with letters of credit and complaint; and no sooner did he land in Italy, than Peter hastened to kiss the foot of the Roman pontiff. His stature was small, his appearance contemptible; but his eye was keen and lively, and he possessed that vehemence of speech which seldom fails to impart the persuasion of the soul. From Jerusalem, the pilgrim returned an accomplished fanatic; but as he excelled in the popular madness of The first crusade was headed by Peter himself. Bands of people set out under his guidance; but it was the blind leading the blind. The mob, who, by thousands flocked after the hermit, had no "preparation, guides, or leaders;" they lived by plunder, and the people through whose territories they passed, turned against them in self-defence; and after the fanatic followers of the hermit had forced their way through Germany and the Greek empire, they were dispersed, or perished, in Asia Minor. From eighty to an hundred thousand people are stated to have perished in this mad expedition, which was yet only the beginning of a great struggle which began at the end of the eleventh, and lasted during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. "Two great causes," says M. Guizot, "the one moral, the other social, impelled Europe into the crusades. The moral cause was the impulse of religious feeling and belief. From the end of the seventh century, Christianity maintained a constant struggle against Mohammedanism. The crusades have been represented as a sort of accident, an unforeseen event, sprung from the recitals of pilgrims returned from Jerusalem, and the preaching of Peter the hermit. They were nothing of the kind. The crusades were the continuation, the height of the great struggle which had subsisted for four centuries between Christianity and Moham medanism. The first character of the crusades is their universality: all Europe concurred in them; they were the first European event. Before the crusades, Europe had never been moved by the same sentiment, or acted in a common cause; till then, in fact, Europe did not exist. The crusades made manifest the existence of Christian Europe." RECOLLECTIONS OF THE CONTINENT.* THIS little volume of poetry was printed at Naples, during the recent residence of the author in that city. To Mr. Hervey the readers of this Journal are already indebted for several clever contributions, and will we hope be indebted for many more. His "Recollections of the Continent" are written in every variety of mood and manner: the grave and the gay, the sentimental and the humorous, alternate in its pages with an almost mechanical regularity. In the following extract there is much fine feeling and tasteful expression. THE SPIRIT OF THE WATERS. FLOW on, Rhine, the sun is shining, A gallant knight rides by thy shore, O'er past joys that charm no more? Tis the Spirit of the Waters, Lightnings flash, dark storms arise, Yes, yes, Yes, yes, Fairest of the Rhine's fair daughters. Flow on, Rhine, the moon is shining, The gallant knight's thy welcome guest, His Adine, no more repining, With him gladly sinks to rest. Yet think not that my brief career What is the charm? ye doubtless ask, I lodge there-what can clearer be? A second floor is my domain, The walls, so delicately thin (I scorn, though, to be mean) To Sixteen's secrets let me in, Tho' I'm in 17. Below, a musical proficient For thirteen months has been, Above's a sentimental maiden, And when she reads a mournful tale, I've missed my brandy and my ale Petitions, begging letters, bills, And Mechi's razors keen, Old sailors, duns, complete my ills ENGLISH SEATS AND SCENERY. No. IV. WENTWORTH CASTLE. PART SECOND. THERE are many other attractive pictures in the gallery at Wentworth which we have not yet noticed. A portrait of Philip Herbert, seventh earl of Pembroke, a man of a dark and stern aspect, as his picture shows. His lordship married Henrietta de Querouaille, younger sister of the duchess of Portsmouth. He was of an exceedingly violent and eccentric character; and his countess lived most unhappily with him. Lord Pembroke was twice tried before the house of peers, on the first occasion in 1678, for an assault upon a Mr. Cony of Middlesex, when he was found guilty of manslaughter; and again in the same year, in consequence of a tavern riot between him and the earl of Dorset. Lord Pembroke had a daughter who married lord Jeffries, a son of the notorious Judge Jeffries; and this lady, we believe, became ancestress of the noble family of We give another extract illustrative of Mr. Hervey's Pomfret. talent for the humorous. No. 17. LET poets in undying story What are their laurel crowns of glory Recollections of the Continent, and Other Poems. By Charles Hervey. George Berger. "Count Gondomar," by Velasquez. He was Spanish ambassador at the court of London, in the reign of James the First. The "countess of Litchfield," a celebrated beauty in the court of William the Third. She was originally Lady Charlotte Fitzroy, a natural daughter of Charles the Second, by the duchess of Cleveland. The countess of Litchfield became the mother of eighteen children; one of her daughters, Lady Elizabeth Lee, married Young, the author of the "Night Thoughts." The "Battle of Quatre Bras" and death of the duke of Brunswick will recall the noble lines of Byron, which have so completely and so strikingly embodied the events of this desperate struggle. The fall of Brunswick is told in language which goes at once to the heart. No less nobly has another great poet (Scott) set before us the heroic gallantry of a countryman of our own, Colonel Cameron, who led the 92nd Highlanders, and who was struck from his horse in the last charge of that gallant regiment. Portraits of "Cromwell" and his secretary of state, "Thurlow." They are both by the court painter, Richard son. Cromwell's is a good head, with somewhat of the bronze gladiator look of Napoleon, but coarser features, stern light eyes, with a keen and quick expression. Cromwell was driving in Hyde park with Thurlow, when he met with the accident which so nearly cost him his life. In 1653 he had received a present of six coach horses from the duke of Oldenburgh, and one evening in September of that year, after dining with Thurlow, he resolved to try the docility of the animals in a drive through the park. He put the secretary into the vehicle, while he himself mounted the box, but being unaccustomed to six in hand, (though a tolerable whip in general) he allowed the cattle to prove his masters. They became unmanageable, and Cromwell was precipitated amongst their feet. He hung for a time suspended by the pole, exposed to the utmost hazard, as the horses had increased their speed to a furious gallop. But his usual good fortune befriended him he fell to the ground between the wheels, and escaped with a slight bruise. The Protector made yet a narrower escape, however; he always carried fire-arms about him; and as he fell upon this occasion, a pistol went off in his pocket, but without doing any injury. Thurlow, who had leaped from the coach, was much more hurt than his master. : "Montagu Bertie" second earl of Lindsey. He commanded the king's regiment of guards at Edgehill, and being near his gallant father, when that nobleman fell wounded into the hands of the enemy, voluntarily surrendered himself to a commander of the horse on the rebel side, in order to be in attendance upon his afflicted parent. Being afterwards exchanged, he continued zealously to support the royal cause, and at the head of the guards fought with great courage at Newbury, Copredy, and at the fatal battle of Naseby, where he was severely wounded; nor did he forsake his royal master till his majesty put himself into the hands of the Scots. After the murder of the king, lord Lindsey compounded for his estates, and lived in privacy till the Restoration. Robert Bertie, his father, as is well known, was general of the king's forces at the breaking out of the civil war, and fell at the battle of Edgehill in 1642. A "country club" by Collet, has all the humour and expression of this clever painter, whose productions very much resemble Gainsborough's. A portrait of "Carlo Maratti" by himself, "Nymphs and Satyrs" by Poussin, and a "Gipsy Encampment" by Caravagio, are all worthy of attention. This last gives us a group of this wandering race among the rugged valleys of the Apennines with surprising effect. Poussin's picture may be described in the exquisite lines of a modern poet. "Below and winding far away, A narrow glade unfolded, such as spring The silvery dew." Lastly may be mentioned a portrait of Lady Wortley from the hour he eloped from school and became a chimney sweep, till he took his seat in parliament, travelled through every country in Europe, adopting the religion, like the dress of them all, and at last while returning home, died, certainly in as strange a manner as he had lived. THE CHILD'S OWN STORY BOOK.* FROM the few remarks we made in our last on this tiny little volume, our readers will have inferred that we regard it as one of the best books that could be put into our youthful readers, of whom we are gratified to say we the hands of children. We cannot forbear presenting have a large number, with the following example of the ingenious and effectual way in which Mrs. Jerram points out the distinction between what may be called false and culcate the great truth, that the worth or virtue of an true morality. What could more clearly or happily inaction depends on the motive which prompts its performance, than the passage to which we have referred, and which we now give, under the head of THE BEGGAR. "Mamma, I gave a penny to a poor man this morning. Was I a good boy for so doing? It depends upon the motive you had in view. Did you give it him because you thought he was poor, or because you thought I should call you a good boy? Because I thought you would call me a good boy, mamma.' I am sorry to hear it, my dear: tell me just what you thought when you gave the penny to the man.' 'Well, mamma, I saw door I went to him; and he asked for a moisel of bread. him coming up the garden, and when he knocked at the So I just thought of a penny I had in my pocket, and I said to myself, Now if I give this penny, mamma will call me a good boy, and then I shall be very glad: and so gave it him.' Now, my dear, this is what you should have said: This old man is very poor, and I have a penny to spare, that will do him good, and he shall have Ah, mamma! I wish I had thought of that, but I am sure I did not intend to do wrong; you know, mamma, I love you so dearly that I strive to please you in all things.' 'Yes, my dear, I know you love me, and I believe you did not intend to do wrong; but, my dear child, we are so apt to act as that we may be praised of I it.' The Child's Own Story Book; or, Tales and Dialogues Montague's extraordinary son, who affected eccentricity for the Nursery. By Mrs. Jerram. Darton and Clark. |