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"Be that as it may, it is quite sufficient that I have played the antic myself for their diversion; and that, in a state of dejection such as they are absolute strangers to, I have sometimes put on an air of cheerfulness and vivacity, to which I myself am in reality a stranger, for the sake of winning their attention to more useful matter."

"By the way-will it not be proper, as you have taken some notice of the modish dress I wear in Table Talk, to include Con

VARIETIES.

Original Anecdotes, Literary News, Chit Chat, Incidents, &c.

THE NORTHERN EXPEDITION.

The instruments to be used by Capt. Parry on the new Expedition are ordered to be shipped by the 1st of May; so that we may presume it will sail about the middle

of that month.

The following anecdote of the sagaci ty of an Ass, and the attachment displayed by the animal to its master, may help in some degree to redeem that ill-used race from a portion of the load of stupidity which is generally assigned to them, and which, with so many other loads, they bear with such exemplary patience. Thomas Brown, residing near Hawick, travels the country as a Higgler, having an ass the partner of his trade. From suffering under a paralytic affection, he is in the habit of assisting himself on the road by keeping hold of the crupper of the saddle, or more frequently the tail of the ass. During a recent severe winter, whilst on one of his journeys near Rule Water, "the old man and his ass were suddenly plunged into a wreath of snow. There they lay long, far from help, and ready to perish,—at length the poor ass, after a severe struggle, got out, but finding his unfortunate master absent, he eyed the wreath for some time, with a wistful look, and at last forced his way through it to where his master still lay, when, placing his body in such a position as to afford a firm grasp of the tail, the honest Higgler was thereby enabled to take his accustomed hold, and was actually dragged out by the faithful beast to a place of safety.

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versation in the same description, which is (the first half of it, at least,) the most airy of the two? They will otherwise think, perhaps, that the observation might as well have been spared entirely; though I should have been sorry if it bad, for when I am jocular I do violence to myself, and am therefore pleased with your telling them, in a civil way, that I play the fool to amuse them, not because I am one myself, but because I have a foolish world to deal with."

Mr. Prior has in the press, A Memoir of the Life and Character of the Rt. Hon. Ed

mund Burke, with an Estimate of his Genius and Talents, compared with those of his great Contemporaries.

PARISIAN ANECDOTES. Paris, Jan. 26, 1824. THE Suite au Memorial de Sainte Heléne, or critical observations and unpublished anecdotes, designed as a supplement and a corrective to that work, has such a run that the second edition

is already demanded. Though the author preserves the anonyme, it is evident from his detection of the numerous errors in M. Las Cases' work, and from the numerous original anecdotes that he relates, that he must have filled some important post near the person of the Emperor. The impartiality with which the facts and reflections are presented, is as honourable to the writer's mind as the composition is to his taste-For example:

EMPRESS JOSEPHINE.

At her court she had the

"Napoleon knew perfectly well the character of Josephine-nothing could equal the grace and affability of that habit of speaking to a hundred perprincess. sons, and always gave an agreeable word to each. She was so generous that she never knew how to refuse, and would soon have ruined the treasury, had it been at her disposal. Not having it in her power to give, she was profuse in her promises, of which she was equally forgetful, and which she repeated with equal facility. On one occasion there was given a remarkable exemplification, of which every one at court was informed but herself. An

officer of high rank, who had been acquainted with her at Martinique before her first marriage, and had been intimate with her family, desired, when Napoleon was in his glory, to resume his military employment, and counted on the influence of Josephine for his

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success. He visited her, and was received with that kindness and affability which always appears sincere, but which so often deceives. She expressed the warmest interest in his plans, and requested him to transmit to her his memorial. The officer did not make his patroness wait long, for the next day he returned with the petition, which he had already in his sidepocket. It so happened that the tailor had clapped his bill into the same pocket, and Mr. mistaking the one for the other, most unfortunately presented the account of Snip to the Empress, who received it most grace fully, and, without perusing it, assured the delighted officer that it should be immediately presented to the Emperor, and that he might depend on a favourable result. Enchanted, the son of Mars returned home; but scarcely had he arrived, when he discovered his misfortune-it must be repaired-he set off for the palace of Josephine, and the first word she utters, is an assurance that her husband had read his memoir, and had promised her that her protegé should be immediately placed. As she was surrounded by crowds, she turned to promise and assure others; she was then lost to the officer, and he had not any opportunity of saying a word. Several times he returned and endeavoured to obtain the fatal bill, and replace it by a courtly memorial, but he could never succeed. He disappeared from the brilliant circle, told his story to his friends, and was the first to laugh at his own bad luck."

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"Straws laid across my pace retard;
The horse-shoes nail'd cach threshold guard.”

Country wenches, when they expe rience any peculiar difficulty in making butter, will sometimes drop into the churn a horse-shoe heated, believing the cream to be spell-bound, and that this operation will destroy the charm. I have read in Glanville, or some such work, of this experiment being once tried by a weary churner, when immediately an old bag, a reputed witch, who lived close by, shrieked violently, and exclaimed that she was scorched. Upon examining her body, the mark of a horse-shoe was found distinctly branded on her flesh !!! Passing under the arcade of the Royal Exchange a day or two since, I observed a horseshoe nailed to one of the benches belonging to the ticket-porters, so that the superstition it seems is not yet extinct even in London.

HORSE-SHOES.

The custom of nailing horse-shoes on the masts of ships, lintels or thresholds of doors, &c. is very ancient, and originated in a superstitious belief that no witch can injure the inmates of a house or vessel so protected. Aubrey, in bis Miscellanies, says, "It is a thing very common to nail horse-shoes on the thresholds of doors, which is to hinder the power of witches that enter into the house. Most houses of the West end of London, have the horse-shoe on the threshold. It should be a horse-shoe that one finds." Again, in Gay's fable of the "Old Woman and her Cats," the supposed witch says:

CHRONOMETRY.

Observing upon a notice in the daily papers that an American experimentalist, of the name of H. G. Dyar, has "invented a clock, the principles and movements of which are different from those of chronometers now in use, and are not to be found in any treatise on mechanics extant; that the pendulum moves in cycloidal arcs, and performs long and short vibrations in equal time, while that of our common clocks swings in the arc of a circle, and makes unequal vibrations in equal time—"

Messrs. Parkinson and Frodsham (to whom science is already largely indebted) state to us, that having devoted much time to the observations on the pendulum, and in endeavouring to reduce its theory to practice, they have at length so far succeeded as to discover a simple contrivance applicable to any description of clock,which will cause the pendulum to vibrate in cycloidal arcs, and performs all its vibrations, however long or short, in the same time. "It has now (they add) been for a considerable time sufficiently and accurately proved; and it is our intention to submit the discovery to one of our learned and scientific Institutions, as we feel assured its simplicity will insure its general adoption in all machines

where the accurate mensuration of time is required. Our intention in thus addressing you, is to preserve to the artists of this country the priority of their claim to the merit of the discovery."

A Moonlight Apparition.-When I was a schoolboy, there dwelt in the neighbourhood a gentleman who had a strong touch of the tulipæmania. His the tulipæmania. His parterre displayed the gayest specimens, the produce of bulbs imported from Holland, whose illustrious names might have vied with any of those that would be found, if one could only get a sight of it, in the late Sir Joseph Banks' vocabulary of Butterflies. But an evil-minded cat often disturbed

his tulip-bed, and laid prostrate many a darling flower of exquisite beauty. Early one morning he caught my gentleman in the fact, and, laying violent hands on him, not only broke every bone in his skin, but, as in his wrathful mood he was led to fancy, beat out his brains. The gardener buried him in a pit a foot deep, carefully treading down the earth. Grimalkin was not so dead, however, but that he was seen the next morning crawling from his hiding-place. He was now slain a

ORIGINAL POETRY.

Now breathes the ruddy Morn around

His health-restoring gale,

And from the chambers of the East
A flood of light prevails.

(Mon. Mag.)

IS THERE A GOD?

Answered by an Appeal to Morning, Noon, and Night.

I read a record of his love,

His wisdom and his power,
Inscrib❜d on all created things,
Man, beast, and herb, and flower."
The sultry sun has left the skies,

And day's delights are flown;
The owlet screams amid the shade,
And Night resumes the throne.

Is there a God? Yon rising sun
An answer meet supplies;
Writes it in flame upon the earth,
Proclaims it round the skies.

The pendant clouds that curtain round
This sublunary ball,

And firmament on high, reveal
A God that governs all.

The warbling lark, in realms of air, Has thrill'd her matin lay;

The balmy breeze of morn is filed, It is the Noon of day.

second time, and sunk in a pit at least three feet deep, in a snug corner of the tulip-bed, it being judiciously considered that his remains, in their decomposed state might add to the freshness and variety of the colours next year.

One of my school-fellows, as merry a little wag as ever drew breath, lived next door, and was at home for the holidays. Having scrupulously watched all that had passed, he borrowed a ladder of the glazier over the way, and, as soon as the families were retired to rest, scaled the wall, dug up street, planted him erect on the sill of Grimalkin, and, proceeding to the his neighbour's bed-room window. Descending a few steps of the ladder, the tulip-fancier, and drawing aside the he mewed most piteously. Up started curtain, saw with horror and dismay, by broad moonlight, his old enemy the full in the face. tom-cat, with saucer eyes, staring him

It is reported at Brussells, that the Memoirs left by Carnot, embracing the period after the battle of Waterloo, are likely to from 1789 to the second fall of Buonaparte, be published in London. We do not understand, however, that they are yet in the possession of any of our booksellers.

Is there a God? Hark! from on high
His thunder shakes the poles:

I hear his voice in every wind,
In every wave that rolls.

Is there a God? With sacred fear
I upward turn mine eyes;
There is! each glittering lamp of light-
There is my soul-replies.

If such convictions to my mind His works aloud impart;

O let the wisdom of his Word Inscribe them on my heart:

That while I ponder on his deeds, And read his truth divine, Nature may point me to a God, And grace may make him mine!

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"Dare

Orbe quietem, seculo pacem suo.

Hac summa virtus, petitur hac cælem via.”

INSCRIPTION FOR PICTON'S CENOTAPH AT WATERLOO.

(Extracted from Blackwood's Magazine.)

WEEP not, though the hero's sleep
On this spot was dark and deep;
And beside him lay
Hearts that hever felt a fear
la the rushing of the spear,-
Silent, glorious clay!

What is life, to death like theirs?
Heartless wishes,-weary years,-
Follies fond and vain!
Theirs a gasp of gallant breath
On the wave, or on the heath→
Momentary pain!

Not upon the sick'ning bed
Has the wasting spirit fled

From their hallow'd mould ;-
In the soldier's hour of pride,-
In the triumph, Picton died!
The boldest of the bold.

[VOL. Į. N.S.

Where the famine, where the fight,
Bloody day, and deadlier night,

Wore host by host away;
Where thy wild Sierra, Spain,
7 ATHENEUM VOL. 1. 2d series.

Where thy pestilential plain,

Were piled with proud decay

Uncheck'd by pain, untired by toil,
He led the lions to the spoil,

Through desert and through flood;
Til, ye eternal Pyrenees !
Ye heard the thunder on the breeze,
Whose fearful rain was blood.

Where the final battle roar'd,
Mightiest harvest of the sword,

Immortal Waterloo !
There his banner, like a star,
Blazing o'er the clouds of war,

To death and glory flew.

Weep not, though his spirit past
In the spirit's fiery blast;

Th' unconquerable Will,
The living Mind, shall hover o'er
The warriors that he led before,

And love and lead them still!

Bold companions of his grave,
England's richest wreath shall waye
In sorrow o'er your tomb;
And the sad infant on the knee
Shall lisp the dear-bought victory,
In ages yet to come!

(Blackwood's Mag.)

PANACEAS FOR POVERTY.

"I like not the humour of bread and cheese.”—Shakspeare.

FROM the days of Job, downwards, COMFORTERS (to me) have always seemed to be the most impertinent set of people upon earth. For you may see, nine times in ten, that they actually gratify themselves in what they call "consoling" their neighbours; and go away in an improved satisfaction with their own condition, after philosophizing for an hour and a half upon the disadvantages of yours.

There are several different families of these benevolent characters abroad; and each set rubs sore places in a manner peculiar to itself.

First and foremost, there are those who go, in detail, through the history of your calamity, showing (as the case may be) either how completely you have been outwitted, or how exceedingly ill or absurdly you have conducted yourself and so leave you with "their good wishes," and an invitation to "come and dine, when your troubles are over."

Next, there are those, a set, I think, still more intolerable, who press the necessity of your resolving immediately upon "something;" and forthwith declare in favour of that particular measure, which, of all the pis allers of your estate, is the most perfectly de

testable.

Thirdly come the "whoreson caterpillars," who are what people call "well to do" in the world; and especially those who have become so (as they believe) by their own good conduct. These are very particularly vile dogs indeed! I recollect one such (he was an opulent cheese-monger,) who had been porter in the same shop which he afterwards kept, and had come to town, as he used to boast, without cash enough to buy a night's lodging on his arrival.

This man had neither love nor pity for any human being. He met every complaint of distress with a history of his own fortunes. No living creature, as he took it, could reasonably be poor, so long as there were birch brooms or

watering-pots in the world. He would tell those who asked for work, that " idleness was the root of all evil;" prove to people "that a penny was the seed of a guinea," who were without a farthing in the world; and argue all day, with a man who had nothing, to show that "out of a little, a little might be put by."

Fourthly, and in the rear, march those most provoking ruffians of all, who uphold the prudence of always "putting the best face" (as they term it) upon an affair. And these will cure your broken leg by setting it off against somebody else's hump back, and so soundly demonstrate that you have nothing to complain of; or admit, perhaps, (for the sake of variety) the fact that you are naked; and proceed to devise stratagems how you shall be contented to remain so.

And it is amazing what a number of (mad upon that particular point, but otherwise) reasonable and respectable persons, have amused themselves by proving, that The Poor have an enviable condition. The poor "Poor !" They seem really to have been set up as a sort of target for ingenuity to try its hand upon; and, from Papin, the Bone Digester, down to Cobbett, the Bone Grubber,-from Wesley, who made cheap physic, and added to every prescription "a quart of cold water," to Hunt who sells roasted wheat (vice coffee) five hundred per cent above its cost-an absolute army of projectors and old women has, from time to time, been popping at them. High among these philosophers, indeed I might almost say at the head of them, stands the author of a tract called, “A Way to save Wealth;" which was published (I think) about the year 1640, to show how a man might thrive upon an allowance of TwoPENCE per day.

The observations prefatory to the promulgation of this inestimable secret, are worthy of everybody's-that is every poor body's-attention.

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