tween deep banks, surmounted by high hedges, excluding all prospects till we reach the front of the vicarage, and catch across the gate of the opposite field a burst of country the most extensive and the most beautiful-field and village, mansion and cot, town and river, all smiling under the sparkling sun of May, and united and harmonized by the profusion of hedgerow timber in its freshest verdure, giving a rich woodland character to the scene, till it is terminated in the distance by the blue line of the Hampshire hills almost melting into the horizon. Such is the view from the vicarage. But it is every way better to look at this glorious prospect from within the house. So we will ring at the door. "Not at home!" I am very sorry, and my companion is very glad.

This companion of mine, the only person in the parish who would be glad to miss seeing the ladies of the vicarage, is a magnificent greyhound, whom the author of Waverley has saved me the trouble of describing-inasmuch as Sir Henry Lee's dog Bevis is my dog Mossy to a hair. I do think that, some way or other, Sir Walter must have seen him. Never was such a likeness, except that Mossy is all over slightly brindled; that is to say, that the rich brown is lightly mingled with rich black. A most superb dog is my Moss-trooper, and a most amiable but sworn foe to morning visits; for, although he be a universal favourite, it is utterly impossible to think of taking him into a drawing-room. Farmer

Thorpe might as well introduce his pet, the bay filly; and to all sorts of waiting, whether in hall, or court, or kitchen, Mossy has the most decided aversion. He is sure to bark for me (and I could swear to his note as readily as Dame Simmons to poor Chanticleer's) before I have been seated ten minutes; and the bark becomes very cross and impatient indeed, if I do not come to him in five minutes more. This not at home," which he understood as well as I did, has enchanted him. He has nearly knocked me down in his transports, and is frolicking and gambolling about me in inexpressible ecstasy, and putting shawl, and veil, and flounces in grievous peril.

166 Be quiet, Mossy! pray be quiet, my dear Mossy!" And having at last succeeded in tranquillizing my affectionate, but obstreperous companion, we set forth homeward in great good-humour.

Down the hill, and round the corner, and past Farmer Thorpe's house. "One glance at the wheat-hoers, Mossy, and then we will go home." Ah! it is just as I feared. Jem and Susan have been

parted; they are now at opposite sides of the fields-he looking very angry, working rapidly and violently, and doing more harm than good-she looking tolerably sulky, and just moving her hoe, but evidently doing nothing at all. Farmer Thorpe, on his part, is standing in the middle of the field, observing, but pretending not to observe, the little humours of the separated lovers. There is a lurking smile about the corners of his mouth that bespeaks him more amused than angry. He is a kind person after all, and will certainly make no mischief. I should

not even wonder if he espoused Jem Tanner's cause; and, for certain, if any one can prevail on the little clerk to give up his squinting favourite in favour of true love, Farmer Thorpe is the man.

Monthly Magazine.

The Selector,

AND

LITERARY NOTICES OF NEW WORKS.

ST. PETER'S AT ROME.; THE facade is full of faults and of beauties; the warm and agreeable temperature, as you enter, is remarkable; and the elaborate and costly beauty of the interior pleases. I wished for it, which is the best proof that I liked it; I wished that it were in London, open at all times, to be visited and admired; a place to walk in and to talk in; a place for the meeting of friends, and, if love would have it so, of lovers! and that we had no hypocrites, or at least no hypocrites with the power to lock it up; and through the affectation of reverence, and under false pretences, to turn it into a lucrative show and a source of base profit. Foolish people have said innumerable foolish things about this building; one of the most foolish is the assertion, that the being really great but appearing small is a merit, and a proof of the excellence of its proportions; but the end of art and of proportion is not to make the great appear small, but on the contrary, to make the small seem great; it is therefore in truth a vice in the construction. That it is indeed great is to be discovered, not by comparing it with man, but it is collected by means of a middle term; the canopy of bronze, which covers the high altar in the likeness of a four-post bed, is a convenient middle term; by comparing a man with a canopy, and the canopy with the building, we are enabled to form some idea of its immense magnitude. The painted cupola and roof, the mosaics, and the inlaid pavement, the

328

gigantic statues of marble, and the marble columns, all harmonize into one beautiful whole, one majestic tomb to cover the body of

"The pilot of the Galilæan lake," who, it is said, reposes in a chapel under the cupola, where one hundred and twelve lamps of massive silver are continually burning; and whither persons flock from all parts of the Christian world to offer up their prayers, in the hope of a more favourable hearing near the remains of one whom many have thought worthy of no common honours, and of such a marvellous sepulchre. I am not quite sure that I am content with the gilding of the roof, or that I would ever admit of gilding; the metallic lustre does not harmonize with everything else, and it soon tarnishes unequally. The boxes for confession are numerous; they are decidedly an eye-sore, being exactly like a cobbler's stall, in which the cobbler of souls sits with a white wand in his hand, such as is borne in our courts of justice by a bound bailiff, when exercising the functions of doorkeeper.- Hogg's Two Hundred and Nine Days on the Continent.

INTELLIGENCE IN A WASP.

DR. DARWIN, in his Zoonomia, relates an anecdote of apparent ratiocination in a wasp, which had caught a fly nearly as large as itself. Kneeling down, the doctor saw the wasp dissever the head and tail from the trunk of the fly, and attempt to soar with the latter; but finding, when about two feet from the ground, that the wings of the fly carried too much sail, and caused its prize and itself to be whirled about, by a little breeze that had arisen, it dropped upon the ground with its prey, and deliberately sawed off with its manibles, first one wing and then the other: having thus removed these impediments to its progress, the wasp flew away with its booty, and experienced no further molestation from the wind.

the effects of their sting; and I have stil in my possession a rein-deer skin, iz which they are very visible, every wound causing a small black spot in the hide, which, from the holes thus made, loses much of its value. Another species likewise adds greatly to the torments of the rein-deer, namely, the astrus nasalus, which makes small punctures within the nostrils of the poor animal, and deposits its eggs in them.-Capell Brooks's Travels in Lapland and Finmark.

The Gatherer.

"I am but a Gatherer and disposer of other men's stuff."- Wotton.

AN Irish gentleman at cards, having, on inspection, found the pool deficient, exclaimed-" Here's a shilling short, who put it in ?"

DR. WATTS was of so extremely mild a disposition, that when reproached by a friend for not having severely reprimanded a man who had done him a serious injury, he exclaimed, "I wish, my dear Sir, you would do it for me."

THE present member for Colchester, canvassed a quaker on a Sunday, who reprehended him for working on that sacred day, and referred him to a passage in holy writ, which says, "Thou shalt do no manner of work, &c. Mr. H replied, "Very true, friend, but there is another passage that seems to have escaped your recollection, which says, Make your calling and election sure."

A SAILOR having been for his good behaviour, promoted from a foremost man to a boatswain, was ordered on shore by his captain to receive his commission at the Admiralty Office. Jack went accordingly, and thus described his reception afterwards to his companions :-" I bore away large (said he) for the Admiralty Office; and on entering the harbour, I espied a dozen or two quill-drivers; I hailed 'em not a word said they, Hollo! again said I-not a word said they. Shiver my topsails, but what can this mean? said I. Then I took a guinea from my pocket, and holding it up to my peeper, hollo! again said I. Oh! hollo! returned they. So, so, my boys, cried I, you are like Balaam's ass, are you? You could not speak until you saw the angel!"

Printed and Published by J. LIMBIRD, 143, Strand, (near Somerset-House,) and soid by all Newsmen and Booksellers

The Months.

LONDON IN MAY.

HAVING discoursed of ruralities, and birds, and flowers, and the general appearances peculiar to "sweet" May, in our last, we may appropriately give a vivid sketch of the gay metropolis from the Mirror of the Months. The pleasant writer observes-It is mid-winter in London now, and the fashionable season is at its height. But we must not be expected to look about us there in the best possible humour, after having left the flowers and the sunshine behind us. We will, at all events, contrive to reach London on May-day, that we may not lose the only relic that is left us of the sports which were once as natural to this period as the opening of the leaves or the springing of the grass. I mean the gloomy merriment of Jack in the Green, and the sad hilarity of the chimney-sweepers. This is, indeed, a melancholy affair, contrasted with what that must have been of which it reminds us. The effect of it, to the bystanders, is like that of a woebegone ballad-singer chanting a merry stave. It is good as far as it goes, nevertheless; inasmuch as it procures a holiday, such as it is, for those who would not otherwise know the meaning of the phrase. The wretched imps, whose mops and mowes produce the mock merriment in question, are the parias of their kind; outcasts from the society even of their equals, the very charity-boys give them selves airs of patronage in their presence; and the little beggar's brat, that leads his blind father along the streets, would scorn to be seen playing at chuck-farthing with them. But even they, on Mayday, feel themselves somebody; for the rout of ragged urchins, that turned up their noses at them yesterday, will to-day dog their footsteps with admiring shouts, and, such is the love of momentary distinction, would not disdain to own an acquaintance with them. Nay, some of them are trying, even now, to recollect whether it was not with that young gentleman, in the gilt jacket and gauze trousers, that they had the honour of playing at marbles" on Wednesday last." There was not a man in the crowd, when Jack Thurtell was hanged, that would not have been proud of a nod from him on the scaffold.

Now, on the first day, the hats of the Hammersmith coachmen grow progressively heavy, and their heads light, with the "favours" they receive from the barmaids of the fifteen public-houses at which they regularly stop to refresh them

selves between Kensington Gravel Pits and Saint Paul's. Now, the winter being fairly set in, London is full of life; and Bond-street seems an enviable spot in the eyes of coach-makers, and cavalry officers on duty.

Now, the innocent inhabitants of Mayfair wonder what the people in the street can mean by disturbing them at six in the morning, just as they are getting to sleep, by crying, "come buy my nice bow-pots!" not having any notion that there are natural flowers "in the midst of winter!"

Now, the Benefits have began at the winter theatres, and consequently all "genteel" persons have left off going there; seeing that the only attraction offered on those occasions is a double portion of amusement: as if any body went to the theatre for that!

Now, the high fashionables, for once in the year, permit their horses' hoofs to honour the stones of the Strand by striking fire out of them; and, what is still more unaccountable, they permit plebeian shawls and shoulders to come in contact with theirs, on the stairs of Somerset House. And all to encourage the arts! That their own portraits, by Sir Thomas, are among the number of the works exhibited, cannot for a moment be considered as the moving cause of such marvellous condescension.

Now, too, flowing through the Strand in opposite directions towards the same spot, may be seen, on fine days of the first fortnight, two streams of white muslin, on which flowers are floating, and which form a confluence at the gates of the Academy, and ascending the winding staircase together (which streams are seldom in the habit of doing,) presently disperse themselves into a lake at the top of the building, which glows with as many colours as that on the top of Mount Cenis.

Now, too, still on the same spot, may be seen, peering half shamefacedly in the purlieus of his own picture, some anxious young artist, watching intently for those scraps of criticism which the newspapers have as yet withheld from him (but which will doubtless appear in tomorrow's report;) and believing, from the bottom of his soul, that the young lady, aged twelve years, who has just fetched her mamma to admire his production, is the best judge in the room; which, considering that he is a reasonable person, and nowise prejudiced, is more than he can account for in one so young!

Now, an occasional butterfly is seen fluttering away over the heads of the pale pedestrians of Ludgate-hill, who wonder

hat it can portend. Now, country usins pay their triennial visits to the ghts of London; and having been ppy enough to secure lodgings in a side reet in the Strand, have no doubt whater that they are living at the west-end the town. Accordingly, they peramlate Parliament-street with exemplary erseverance, and then return to the couny, to tell tales of the fashionables they

ave seen.

Finally, now the parks really are the leasantest imitations of the country that an be met with away from it. That of yde is worth walking in at five on a ne week-day, if it be only to see how e footmen and the horses enjoy themelves; and still more so at four on a ne Sunday, to see how the citizens do me same. The Green Park, in virtue of he youths and maidens who meander bout it in all directions on the latter ay, looks, at a distance, like a meadow trewn all over with moving wild flowers. And the great alley in Kensington Garlens, when the fashionables please to atronize it, is as pretty to look down pon, from the pavilion at top, as one of Watteau's pictures.

EARLY MEDICAL KNOWLEDGE.

(For the Mirror.)

In the

If we look back to the origin of the art of medicine, we shall find its first foundaions to be owing to mere chance, unforeeen events, and natural instinct. arly ages, the sick were placed in crossways, and other public places, to receive he advice of those passengers who knew in efficacious remedy suitable to their lisorder. And the better to preserve the nemory of a remarkable cure, both the lisease and the remedy were engraved on pillars, or written on the walls of temples, hat patients in the like cases might have recourse to them for instruction and relief. Thus what mere accident had discovered, was registered in these chronicles of health. This art arose from repeated trials and ong experience, which gave an insight nto the virtues of herbs and plants, me als and minerals.

When any singular disease occurred, ecourse was frequently had to Jew physi plans, who were supposed to have more nowledge and practical success than heir Christian brethren in science. As the practice of physic was very profitable, it empted the monks to neglect their conrentual duty, insomuch that it was found necessary at the council of Tours, in 1103, to form a canon in order to restrain hese avaricious ecclesiastics from leaving

their convent to act as physicians during more than two months at one time. In the more early ages, as Bede writes, "Old women seem chiefly to have studied the medical arts among the northern nations; and as they mingled charms and spells with their prescriptions, the pa tient's fancy sometimes effected, or at least assisted the cure. As Christianity gained ground, the clergy having time on their hands, applied themselves to the study of medicine, but made so little pro gress, that, for a long space, holy water was the prescription to which they chiefly trusted."

Medical knowledge, at the commencement of the fourteenth century, seems to have been at a very low ebb. Gilbert English (the oldest writer on these subjects in our language) is said by Dr. Friend to have borrowed all his science from the Arabian writers. John de Gad desden, whose "Medical Rose" is a com. pendium of the whole practice of physic used in England in his time, and who has been consulted by princes, and commended by Geoffry Chaucer, appears, by some of his recipes, to be extremely ignorant and superstitious. He cured, he says, a son of Edward II. of the small-pox, by wrapping him up in scarlet cloth, and hanging scarlet curtains round his bed! As a remedy for the epilepsy, this fantastical physician orders the patient to be carried to church, to hear mass during the fast, quatuor temporum, and afterwards to wear round his neck a verse of the day's Gospel written in a scroll by the priest. Yet this writer and physician points out the way of rendering salt-water fresh by dise tillation, a discovery supposed to be of much more modern date.

The state of chirurgery is clearly shown in the following extract, which is quoted by Dr. Henry, from a treatise composed ty Guido de Cauliaco in 1363. There are five sects of surgeons here spoken of:

"The first follow Roger, Rowland, &c., and apply pultices to all wounds and abscesses. The second follow Brumis and Theodric, and use wine only. The third follow Saliceto and Langfranc, and treat wounds with ointments and soft plasters. The fourth are chiefly Germans, who attend the armies and promiscuously use charms, potions, oil, and wool. The fifth are old women and ignorant people, who in all cases have recourse to the saints." Dissection of a human body, even dead, as Le Gendre observes, was held a sacrilege till the time of Francis I.; and the same author assures us, he has seen a consultation held by the divines of Salamanca, at the request of Charles V., to settle the question whether or no it