Obrázky stránek
[ocr errors]

all countries in corn, as appears both And though the raging of that storm is past from sacred and profane history. It fur Its mighty ruffle ue'er can quite abate: nished a good part of the people subject

The reckless fury of that shock hath cast to the Roman empire, and was called the

A change o'er all my feelings, and what fate dry nurse of Rome and Italy. For the

May have in store I care not. I create first discovery and culture of corn, authors

No hopes, expect no joys, no bappiness; are much divided; the common opinion

The coming doom in silence I await.

Remorse and anguish only truly bless, is, that in the first ages men lived on the And though their sting be sharp, I'will not love spontaneous fruits of the earth, as acorns, them less. and the nuts, or mast, produced by the beach. It is added, that they had not

Many a tear tbe cold world dreams not of, either the use of corn, nor the art of pre

Steals down this cheek,-inany a struggling

sigh, paring or making it eatable. Ceres has

(At which deserv'd dislike perchance mig'it the credit of being the first that shewed scoff,) the use of corn, on which account she Bursts from its prison, when no soul is nigh. was placed among the gods; others give Methought that all would look with careless the honour to Triptolemus; others share eye it between the two, making Ceres the

Upou me, ne'er afection's voice beguile first discoverer, and Triptolemus the

My weary waud'rings, till I droop and die, first planter and cultivator of corn. Dio

Aud leave to other victims this world's guile, dorus Siculus ascribes the whole to Isis ;

The malice of its frown- the treach'ry of its

smile, in which Polydore Virgil observes, he does not differ from the rest, Isis and

But I am human-and could scarcely cope Ceres being in reality the same. The

With constant disappointment, slight, neglect; Athenians pretend it was among them

It is a bitter thing to banish hope, the art began; and the Cretans, or Can

To have no honie, no fire-side, to reflect

And feel that no soul loves me; o'er this diots, Sicilians, and Egyptians, lay claim to the same.

wreck'd, Some think the title of the

This broken heart, dejection stern would crave Sicilians best supported, that being the

Dominion, and with tyranny uncheck'd, country of Ceres ; and authors add, she

Would surely hurry to an early grave, did not teach the secret to the Athenians Him whom this tribute of affection yet may save. till she had first instructed her own coun.

For now I know that all do not condemn, trymen. Others say, Ceres passed first into Attica, thence into Crete, and, last

Despise, forsake. My feelings are too keen,

Dejection's current I should airn to stem, of all, into Sicily. Many of the learned, My lonely hours from melancholy mean; however, maintain, it was in Egypt the And as I seek contentment's joys serene, art of cultivating corn first began ; and Perhaps fair hope may teach me to forget, it is certain there was coin in Egypt and And kindlier whisper of some lovelier scene, the east long before the time of Ceres. Where life's dim sun in brighter clouds shall The fruits of the product of the earth

set, were offered on her altars, and those who

Then cheer thee, drooping heart, thou mayet disturbed the mysteries were punished

be happy yet.

C. F. with death.


The Topographer.
! For the Mirror.)

No. XXI.
Tis not the chiming in with social mirth,
T'is not the smiling eage politeness needs,

'Tis not a seeming sense of pleasure's worth,
That tells a man is happy-the heart bleeds ( To the Editor of the Mirror.)
In company but seldom-but it feeds
In solitude, in secrecy, on woe,


-Amongst the many thousands who On sensibility, on fear, nor heeds

are daily passing through the gate of The faithful solace of those thougbts that show

Temple-Bar, there are perhaps few who How feeting, vain, and sad i ev'ry joy below. know any thing concerning the history of And such am I-for I have liv'd to wake

it, as the disadvantage of its situation, From youthful dreams of happiness and peace,

and the immense traffic which is hourly To feel the ties of fond attachment break, passing through it, render it almost imMy spirits sink-domestic pleasures cease possible for any one to stop and examine And my weak heart hath rather lov'd t' in it. On this account, therefore, I am in. crease

duced to send you a short description of Than lessen its distress, for there was none

this edifice, which I trust will not prove To comfort me, none knew I sought release From griefs and thoughts which wildly led me

unacceptable to your readers.

Temple-Bar divides the city of London on, To deeds of dark despair that mem'ry's self

from the liberty of Westminster. In formust shun,

mer times they were merely separated by 02

a bar, or rail, which, from its immediate quities,” imagines that this passage vicinity to the Temple, acquired the name through the Tolman might, in Druidical which it at present bears. This rail after- times, have been a sanctuary for an ofwards gave place to a kind of bridge, fender to take refuge from the vengeance formed of timber, which stretched across

of his pursuers ;

or it might have been the street, and beneath which was a gate- intended and used,” says he, “ for introway and postern. Shortly after the fire ducing proselytes and novices, or people of London, the present structure was under vows, or about to offer sacrifices, erected; it is built of Portland stone, into their (the Druids') Penetralia, or and of rustic work below. The statues their more sublime mysteries. I meaof James I. and his consort, Ann of Den- sured,” continues the learned doctor, mark, are in niches on the eastern front, 66 one half of the circumference of the with the royal arms in the centre, and rock, and found it, according to my comthe supporters over the archways on each putation, forty-eight feet and a half ; so side, one of which is now down. On the that this stone is ninety-seven feet in cireastern front are the statues of Charles I. cumference, about sixty feet across the and Charles II., in Roman dresses, which middle, and, by the best information I were sculptured by John Bushnell ; also

can get, contains 750 tons of stone. Getan irscription, which informs us, that the ting up by a ladder to view the top of it, gate was erected during the mayoralties we found the whole surface worked like of Sir Samuel Starling and Sir Richard an imperfect or mutilated honeycomb into Ford, and finished in that of Sir George basins; one much larger than the rest Waterman. On this gate were generally was at the south end, about seven feet exhibited the heads of those who suffered long; another at the north, about five; for high treason; the last of which was the rest smaller,” &c.-From the summit lord Lovat's, who was beheaded on Tower of this stupendous rock there is a most hill for the rebellion of 1745, and the extensive view. On the north side it is skull remained for many years afterwards, at least sixty feet above the level of the the iron bar upon which they were placed ground beneath, but on the south side not being only removed at the commencement

more than twenty. This estate abounds of the present century. The gates of with excellent granite, immense quantia Temple-bar are always closed, and opened ties of which are sent to London, and are with great ceremony, when the king used in the construction of the new Loncomes in state into the city, and also at don-bridge, public docks, &c. the proclamations.

I am, Sir, &c.
J. W.


(For the Mirror.)

FIFTEEN.-Miss in her Teens-deter(For the Mirror.)

mined to make a Bold Stroke for a HusIn the parish of Constantine, in Corn. band-gained a lover Deaf as a Postwall, and on an estate belonging to A. F. ultimately discovered my devoted to be a Hocken, Esq., is a most singular stone, Poor Gentleman-would not do sadly well worthy the attention of those who disappointed—Heigho! visit this most interesting county. It is SIXTEEN.- Tried again-encountered an enormous orbicular rock of granite, a rich West Indian-thought The World supported by two stones, between which Well Lost to secure him, condescendingly there a passage, and from this circum- submitted to the opinion of others in stance it derived the name of Tolmen, order to be thought amiable—found he which, in the ancient Cornish language, was Inconstant-adopted a Belle's Strasignified the hole-stone, or the holed tagem-caught him in an Intrigue with stone. It is, however, now only known a Maid of Palisean-heart terribly futin the county by the name of the Mên tered-vowed hatred to the sex for ever. Rock. This stone, when viewed at a dis SEVENTEEN. — Seriously considered tance, bears some resemblance to an egg; the difference between Married and Sinbut on a nearer inspection, the similitude gle-decided in favour of the former disappears. It rests on its side on two envied Lionel and Clarissa, the Constant supporters, which appear to touch it only Couple, and sighed for an Elopement to with their projected points. The passage Gretna Green--wishes all in vain-hopes which lies between these supporters, and completely frustrated. beneath the rock which rests upon then, EIGHTEEN.-Resolved to marry any. is about three feet high and as many wide, body-applied to My Grandmother who 80 that a man may creed through without was famous for Match Making-visited difficulty. Dr. Borlase, in his “ Anti. a ball-danced with a Jew, a Heira

Law to considerable expectations from

ALLITERATION. the Wheel of Fortune-Love makes a The following is the 49tk chapter of Tusser's Manbecame a wife—a truly unfortu

Husbandry, and entitled, nate one—he proved a Suspicious Hus. A brief conclusion, where you may see, band—quarrel succeeded quarrel, and

Each word in the verse to begin with a T. during the Tempest of Family Jars, our The thrifty that teacheth the thriving to thrive, habitation was quite a Stranger to the Teach timely to traverse, the thing that thou sweet enjoyments of domestic felicity, I 'trive, (coutrive) had vainly anticipated.

Transferring thy toiling, to timeliness taught, NINETEEN. Still unhappy — but Thus teacheth thee temp'rance, to temper tby witness Fortune's Frolic :-one morning

thought. Before Breakfast, my husband took his Take trusty (to trust to) that thinketh to thee, departure from this world for ever—Such

(thrive, vide Chaucer, &c.) Things Are-after having weeped, mourn

That trustily thriftiness trowleth to thee. ed, lamented, and gone through the rou

Then temper thy travel to tarry the tide,

This teacheth thee thristiness, twenty times tine of duties incumbent upon widows on

try'd. similar occasions, I was once more happy

Take thankful thy talent, thank thankfully those and gay-a Young Widow with a fair

That thriftily teacheth thy time to transpose. face, a full purse, and a light heart, Troth twice to be teached, teach twenty times which introduced me to

ten, TWENTY.-Took a Trip to Scarbo. This trade thou that taketh, take thrift to thee rough the Innkeeper's Daughter an


CURIOS. innocent Country Girl-dressed fashionably-frequented public places bu: could

Che J2ovelisi. obtain no admirers—thought Belles without Beaux rather inconvenient-took my

No. XCVIII. departure in the Mnil Coach-met with an old acquaintance who made many pro

THE SYBIL'S SPELL. fessions of affection-spoke like an Oracle -proposed a Clandestine Marriage-I CLARA was a well-educated and intelli. chid his Presumption, and bade him re gent girl, but romantic to an extreme. member his Broken Promises.

in her ideas of honour, of friendship, of TWENTY-ONE. — First Love predo love, she was an enthusiast; but in her minant-still sued by my former lover, observance of them she was faithful and who soon succeeded in removing the sincere. She was one of those sensitive False Impressions I had entertained to creatures that seem born like sweet but wards him.-To Marry or not to Marry, transient flowers, which shed their fra. became the question—thought him a good grance and perish in their youth. To a Match for a Widow made another heart like Clara's, love could not long be Blind Bargain, and sought in the Wed. a stranger, nor could it be a passive in. ding Day a perfect Cure for the Heart mate in her breast. Her whole soul was Ache.

fixed on one object. Her wishes, thoughts, TWENTY-Two.-A duplicate of my and actions seemed to have but one ori. Prisoner at Large now presented itself gin; but her lover died, and her happi. lovely pledge of affection. Happiness ness died with him. By degrees she grew beamed upon my existence, and I have more calm, but a settled melancholy hung never had cause to regret the hour when upon her heart, and her spirit was utterly I resigned my liberty.–Fair ones! may broken. Colonel M when on the it be the lot of each of you. PASCHE. point of leaving Spain, suggested to her

father that change of scene might in some

degree divert her thoughts from the dan. SONNET.

gerous channel which they had taken, and SEEST thou, beloved, yonder cheerless oak, proposed that she should accompany his Above the river's torrent-course reclined? own family, to all of whom she was very Where the fair ivy tenderly hath twined much attached. The offer was accepted, ks arms around each bough the storm had broke;

and she came to England. The noise and Hiding the ravage of the thunder stroke, And shielding its new blossoms from the wind :

gaiety of London, however, ill accorded Vain care !--For, by the current undermined,

with her wounded feelings, and she felt Beneath already nods the unstable rock. gratified at accompanying her friends into

Lincolnshire. As the autumn advanced, Alas! it is the emblem of our fate

she used to wander out alone ; and day For oh, I feel thee twined around my soul, Like yon green ivy o'er the wounded tree

after day she would sit on Aukborough. And thou must leave me ere it be too late:

hill to watch the sun-rays fading over the While I, in evil fortune's hard control, sleeping waters, while she thought of her

Plunge down the stream of dark adversity. own bright land, with its mountains and


its streams sparkling and smiling in the on the grass, and speaking in a whisper golden light of sunset, and of one who to some one beside her, as the colonel at was cold in his grave, and then she would first thought ; but he was soon satisfied weep and return in sorrow to her home. that she was alone. As he stood there, Her beautiful form gradually wasted away he heard her say, “You did not dic then ? beneath the strong influence of these feel. Oh, Leon! how could you jest so with ings, and she became more and more me ? You have nearly broken my heart; wedded to solitude. One evening, as she and had you not come now, I should have was walking towards her favourite spot, been, to-morrow, cold and dead as my an old gipsy, who was standing at the hopes ! but you are come to me, and I foot of the hill, accosted her. The sybil will not think of sadness. To be sure I had, no doubt, gained from Colonel M's do forgive you! Oh, yes ! Nay, nay, domestics some insight into the poor girl's you must not kiss me! We are not marhistory, and, as Clara approached, she ried yet, but we soon shall be ; shall we muttered, in a low and solemn tone rot, my Leon ? And we will go to our

own country, where the olives grow, and “ The maid wbo repairs to Aukborough-hil! When tbe stars are out, and the winds are still,

the happy birds sing all day long in the Shall see a form, and shall ticar a voice

citron groves. Oh, Leon, my heart is so That will make her sorrowing heart rejoice.

full, and my head burns so; I am too And, if her lover died in a distant land, happy. Why is my father not here to Let her make three circles with her Land meet you? I want to see my poor father, On the green grass turf, and look on the streams for I did not kiss himn last night, and he That dance in the light of the pale moon-beams; will think that I have forgotten him. My Let her fix her gaze, and hold her breath,

eyes feel so heavy! No! no! not on And her lover will come from the realms of

your breast; the grass green turt shall be death,

my pillow !--and yet, again, I think I And sit with her when the winds are still,

shall lie softer in your arms, my Leon, And the stars are out upon Aukborough-hill."

than on the cold ground.”-She sank, As she concluded, she drew towards Clara, with a sigh, upon the earth, and Colonel and said, “ Let me tell your fortune, M. hastily advanced to the spot where she lady.”_She then went on her way, and lay. He spoke to her, but she gave no the maiden ascended the hill. A super

He took her hand, but it restitious feeling crept over her as she re turned not his pressure. The moonbeams flected on the words of the gipsy, which fell on her pale and beautiful face, where increased as the evening advanced. Her a smile of tenderness still lingered, and thoughts were entirely engrossed by them. the stars looked brightly down upon her ; The lowing of the cattle as they were but she felt not their power, and she saw driven home to their stalls, the tinkling not their light, for her heart was stil, and bell that called the scattered sheep to the her eyes were closed for ever. patriarch of the flock, the chime of the

The Gondola. village clock, and the farewell song of birds, struck not upon her ear. The distant trees that reflected their autumnal Anecdotes and Recollections. tints on the bright waves ; the quiet

Notings, selections, heavens with their progeny of clouds; the

Anecdote and joke : valleys and hills and streams, were not Our recollections seen by her ; she seemed like a statue

With gravities for graver folk. placed among animated beings, and was, for a time, dead to the living charms of nature. Whilst ruminating on the lines she had heard, the sun went down, and MR. MATHEWS, in his celebrated monothe stars began to speckle the blue sky. polylogue, entitled, Mathews' Dream, or For the first time she raised her eyes, and Theatrical Gallery, gives the following bethought her of the sybil's spell. The curious and not generally known anecdote winds had sung themselves into tranquil of the well known Joe Millar, for the veslumbers, and the moon looked calmly on racity of which he pledges himself :the sparkling waters beneath.

Clara re

It is a fact not generally known, tha. membered the charm, and made three cir. Joe Millar, who has fathered all our jests cles on the turf, held her breath, and for the last half century, never uttered a fixed her gaze upon the rivers. The night jest in his life. Though an excellent was far advanced, and Col. M. became comic actor, he was the most taciturn and alarmed that Clara had not returned home; saturnine man breathing.

He was in but, knowing her favourite haunt, he re the daily habit of spending his afternoons paired thither, and stole softly behind her at the Black Jack, a well-known publice without being observed. She was sitting house in Portugal-street, Clare-market,



which was at that time frequented by most crying for their bread and butter ; and of the respectable tradesmen in the neigh, when the bell rang for music between the bourhood, who, from Joe's imperturbable acts, the tears ran from the bassoongravity, whenever any risible saying was players' eyes in such plentiful showers, recounted, derisively ascribed it to him. that they choked the finger-stops, and, After his death, having left his family making a spout of the instrument, poured unprovided for, advantage was taken of in such torrents on the first fiddler's book, this badinage. A Mr. Motley, a weil. that, not seeing the overture was in two known dramatist of that day, was em- sharps, the leader of the band actually ployed to collect all the stray jests then played in one flat. But the sobs and current on town, Joe Millar's name was sighs of the groaning audience, and the prefixed to them, and from that day to noise of corks drawn from the smellingthis, the man who never uttered a jest has bottles, prevented the mistake between been the reputed author of every jest, the flats and sharps being discovered. One past, present, and to come.

hundred and nine ladies fainted ! forty-six

went into fits ! and ninety-five had strong PUFFING BURLESQUED.

hysterics ! The world will scarcely credit The following whimsical account of the truth, when they are told that fourMrs. Siddons's first appearance in Dub. teen children, five old women, one hun. lin, is extracted from an old Irish news. dred tailors, and six common-councilmen, paper :-“ On Saturday, Mrs. Siddons, were actually drowned in the inundation about whom all the world has been talk, of tears that flowed from the galleries, ing, exposed her beautiful, adamantine, the slips, and the boxes, to increase the soft, and lovely person, for the first time, briny pond in the pit; the water was at Smock-Alley Theatre, in the bewitch three feet deep, and the people that were ing, melting, and all-tearful character of obliged to stand upon the benches were Isabella. From the repeated panegyrics in that position up to their ankles in in the impartial London newspapers, we

tears ! An act of parliament against her were taught to expect the sight of a hea playing any more will certainly pass, venly angel ; but how were we superna- &c. &c. &c.—This jeu d'esprit, which turally surprised into the most awful joy was written by the facetious Peter Seguin, at beholding a mortal goddess. The house is said to have given vast offence to the was crowded with hundreds more than it lady's friends at the time; why, we can. could hold, with thousands of admiring not see. The ridicule is fairly levelled, spectators that went away without a sight. not at Mrs. S., whose merits no one could This extraordinary phenomenon of tragic deny, or did deny, but at the insatiable excellence! this star of Melpomene! this aptitude of the public mind for puff! comet of the stage ! this sun of the firmament of the Muses ! this moon of blank

THE RULING PASSION. verse! this queen and princess of tears ! THE anecdote of Anne Oldfield, a celethis Donnellan of the poisoned bowl! this brated actress, who, in her last moments, empress of the pistol and dagger ! this was so entirely engrossed with the dress chaos of Shakspeare ! this world of weep- in which she should be arrayed after her ing clouds ! this Juno of commanding death, puts us in mind of a similar anecaspects ! this Terpsichore of the curtains dote of the French Princess de Charolais. and scenes ! this Proserpine of fire and Although, in the agonics of death, it was earthquake ! this Katterfelto of wonders ! easier to bring her to receive the last sacra. exceeded expectation, went beyond belief, ments, than to take off her rouge : no and soared above all the natural powers longer able to resist the entreaties of her of description! She was nature itself! confessor, she at length consented. She was the most exquisite work of art! in this case,” said she to the attendant She was the very daisy, primrose, tube woman, give me some other ribands ; rose, sweet-brier, furze-blossom, gilli. you know that, without rouge, yellow flower, wallflower, cauliflower, aurica, and ribands look frightful upon me.” The rosemary ! in short, she was the bouquet last words of Mrs. Oldfield were, of Parnassus! Where expectation was would not look a fright after one's death ;" raised so high, it was thought she would or, according to Pope, be injured by her appearance ; but it was the audience who were injured ; several

“ One would not sure look ugly when one's dead,

And-Betty!-give these cheeks a little red!" fainted before the curtain drew up! but, when she came to the scene of parting Sir Joshua Reynolds declared as follows with her wedding-ring, ah! what a sight to Mr. Northcote, “ That to procure a was there ! the very fiddlers in the or- really fine picture, by Titian, he would chestra, “ albeit unused to the melting be content to sell every thing he possessed mood," blubbered like hungry children in the world to raise money for its pur

" But

66 One

« PředchozíPokračovat »