CANNING SOUTH EV CYCLOPJSBIA COLUMBUS, OHIO: PUBLISHED BY FOLLETT, FOSTER AND COMPANY. CYCLOPAEDIA OF LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC ANECDOTE: ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE CHARACTERS, HABITS, AND CONVERSATION OF MEN OF LETTERS AND SCIENCE. EDITED BY WILLIAM KJEDDIE, SECRETARY TO THE PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY OF GLASGOW. FROM THE LONDON EDITION. COLUMBUS: FOLLETT, FOSTER AND COMPANY. 1 8 5 9. PREFACE. The contents of the following pages have been culled from many sources, and embrace a great diversity of subjects. It has been the purpose of the compiler to combine useful information with innocent entertainment; to invite to the cultivation of litera- ture and of science; to minister to refined tastes, and foster large intellectual sympathies. Whilst the volume aims at the gratifica- tion of a general class of readers, the interests of the young have been constantly kept in view in the selection, which, it is hoped, contains nothing, either in sentiment or expression, adverse to their moral and intellectual improvement. The paucity of anecdotes, in the annals of science, possessed of personal interest, will account for the meagreness of this depart- ment of the collection, as compared with the amplitude and va- riety of the literary portion. CONTENTS. PAGE Abernethy, Dr., and Curran 118 " A Class Illustration 119 " Integrity and Honor 124 " Generosity 124 " Wit and Eccentricity 123 Actors and Preachers 147 Addison and the Poetaster 188 Addison's Companions 205 " Diffidence 220 " Gravity 220 " Timidity 265 " Admiral Hosier's Ghost" ... 218 Aerolites in British Museum 418 Agassiz, M., on the Alps 248 Age, Literary and Scientific pursuits of.. 252 Ainsworth's Dictionary burnt by his Wife 28 Akenside and Rolt 300 Akenside's " Pleasures of Imagination" . 53 Albert, Prince, Experiments with Gun- Cotton 105 Alchymists, Common lot of 268 Aldrich's Love of Music 303 Alfieri and his Assistant Translators 438 Alfred the Great Learning to Read 234 Alibi, Proving an 355 Almanac, First English 57 Almanac Weather Wisdom 57 Amanuenses 40 American Goethe 215 Anaesthetic Agents 125 Anagrams 301 " and Puns 232 Anatomists and Anatomy 1 " Anatomy and Melancholy," 22 Anderson, Dr. W., a Ponderous Author.. 224 Animals, Footprints of, on Ancient Rocks 357 Animals, Playfulness of 353 Animosity, Judicial 131 Antiquarian Enthusiasm 349 Antiquarianism 39 Antiquary Described 39 " Apprentices," Hogarth's 294 Arachnoid Garment 288 Archimedes and the Lever 97 Army, Literature in the 344 Arnauld and Spelman 252 Art Criticism 329 Art of Printing, Origin of 224 Asinine Bishopric 129 "Asses and Savans," Napoleon's, in Egypt 250 Astronomer, Female 82 Astronomers and Astronomy 6 Atomic Theory of Dalton, La Place's Opinions of 247 PAGE Attainments of Dr. Whewell 250 Atterbury's, Bishop, Oratory 143 Author, a Mad 38 " a Mendicant 18 Authoress, American, and Sir Walter Scott 137 Authors, Amanuenses of 40 " Conversation of 39 " Deceptions of 32 " Dull 269 " Favorite Dishes of 43 " Honors and Rewards of 16 " Irritability and Vanity of 37 " Learning and Labors of 26 " Miscellaneous Anecdotes of.... 42 " Not the Best Judges of their own Writings 33 Peculiarities and Eccentricities of 22 " Precocity of 8 Tenderness and Affection of.... 34 " Trials and Miseries of 20 " Whims and Caprices of 37 " Wit and Humor of... 29 Authorship. Profits of Recent 261 Autographs in British Museum 408 Babbage's Calculating Machine ......... 335 Bacon, Lady .. 437 " Founder of the Inductive Philoso- phy 87 Bacon's, Lord, Name and Memory 133 " Inconsistencies 323 Baillie, Joanna 164 Bainbridge, Dr., Epigram on 302 Ballantyne, John. Amanuensis to Scott.. 41 Balzac's, M., Romantic Marriage 113 Bank Note for a Million Pounds 199 Bank of England's Weighing Machine ... 104 Banks, Sir Joseph, and Dr. Solander 14 Bards, Honor to the 19 Bargain-Hunters of Books 56 Barton and Nash 336 Bateman's, Dr., Economy of Time 115 Bautru, M. de 324 Bayle's Pyrrhonism 13 Beecher's Chemical Enthusiasm 67 Bee in the Crystal Palace 376 Beecher, Dr. Lyman, Sermon to a Small Audience 130 Bells 406 " What they said to the Widow 278 Berthollet the Chemist 217 Berzelius the Chemist 272 Bettesworth and Swift 195 VI CONTENTS. PAGE Bible, Early Translations of 47 " Present Translation of 47 " Lost Books Mentioned in 48 " the "Vinegar" 317 Bibles, English, Inaccuracies of 226 Bibliomania 313 Binding of Books 54 Bindings, Preservation of 55 Bishop, Madam A., Singing in Ten Lan- guages 150 Black, Dr., and the Hydrogen Gas Balloon 65 Black and Hutton's Snail-Dinner 268 " Mrs., the " Maid of Athens," Visit of N. P. Willis to 156 Black-Letter Books 49 " Hunters 50 Blacklock and David Hume 184 Blood, Transfusion of, in Royal Society.. 246 Blue Stockings, Origin of the Name 44 Boerhaave, Old Age of 122 Boileau and Racine 185 Bolingbroke, Lord 276 Book Auctions 53 " Trade of Leipsig 53 " Attempt to Print a Perfect 227 " the first Printed 227 " Collectors 414 " Making 413 Books, Ancient Value of 413 " Hood the Humorist on 237 Bookseller and Author 52 Booksellers and Printers 230 " the Patrons of Literature .. 52 Booksellers, Books, and Bibliomaniacs... 49 " Maneuvers of 347 Bossuet 318 Boswell, James, and Johnson 261 " and the Writ of " Quare adhaesit pavimento " 108 " Bear-Leading Rewarded 268 Botanical Satire 375 Botanist, the, and the Irish Mail-Coach- Driver 58 Botanists and Botany 58 Bourdonne, Madame de 328 Bowles, Caroline 178 Bowles and Moore 278 Bowles's, Canon, Absence of Mind 172 Boyse, Samuel, a Poor Fag Author 181 Boxhorn's Smoking and Reading 299 Brain, How to Turn the 287 Bramble's, Matthew, "Vimonda" 22 Brandt, the Indian Chief, and Campbell the Poet 202 Breakfast at Rogers's 198 Brebeuf 299 Brevity 319 Bristol Milkwoman's Poetry 328 Brougham and Lyndhurst 145 Brougham's, Lord, Chancellorship 109 " Labors 145 " • Natural Portraits 109 Buchanan, George, and Henry VIII 182 Buchanan's " Scotland " 27 Buckland's, Dr., Alligator and Dinner Party 30 Buffon, the Naturalist 289 Buffon's Son 342 Bumper, Origin of the Word 45 Bunbury, Selina, and the Norwegian Fairy Legend-Hunter 254 Bunker Hill Monument, Effect of Heat.. 433 PAGE Bunyan and the " Book of Martyrs "... 270 Burke. Edmund, at Hastings's Trial .... 148 " and the Riot Act 334 " put to Flight in the Commons... 144 Burke's Conversation 259 " Melodramatic Trick and Sheri- dan's Sarcasm 146 Burnet, the Judge and the Bishop 263 Burnet's Absence of Mind 354 Burney, Dr., and Johnson 282 " Miss (Madame D'Arblay) 141 Burney's Anagram on Nelson 233 Burning of Shelley's Remains 215 Burn's "Justice" 276 Burns in a Printing Office 228 Burns's, Robert, " Chloris," her Unhappy Fate 158 " Early Reading 174 Burritt, Elihu, the Learned Blacksmith. 152 Burton's " Anatomy of Melancholy ".... 22 Burton, Author of " Anatomy of Melan- choly " 302 Butler's " Hudibras " 42 " Pride 185 Byron and Peel 182 Byron's " Maid of Athens " 156 " Heartless Mother 208 " Writings, Characteristics of..... 308 Cacoethes Scribendi. Incurable Case of .. 224 Calendar, Roman 286 Camoens and his Black Servant 185 Camoens's " Lusiad " 185 Campbell, the Lord Rector 11 " at Hohenlinden 217 " and the Queen 176 " and Hooke .... 194 " and Turner the Painter 190 " and Wilson at Paisley Races.. 163 " and Son of the Indian Chief.. 202 Campbell's, Thomas, University Spree ... 29 " Reminiscence of James Gra- hame 42 " " Gertrude," and the " Pleas- ures of Hope " 183 " " Lochiel's Warning " 129 " Lyrics 112 " Death 196 " Can She Spin ?" 152 Candor 319 Canning on Grattan's Eloquence 147 Canning's Rhyme for Julianna 177 Caprices and Contradictions 38 Carey's, Henry, Ballads 23 Carlos's, Don, Travels of King Philip.... 311 Carlyle's, T., Advice to the Poets 210 Carmeline the Dentist 301 Casaubon 323 Cato 277 Cause and Effect, Charles Lamb 35 Cavendish, Hon. Henry, the Chemist, his Oddities 62 Cavendish's Disregard for Money 258 Caxton, William, the first English Printer 224 Cellini's Benvenuto, History 15 Cervantes, Magnanimity of 140 Chalmers's, Dr. Thos., Literary Habits.. 262 " Pulpit Oratory in London.... 146 " Simplicity and Tenderness.. . 34 " Estimate of Butler's " Analo- gy " 301 Chapelain and the Spider 288 CONTENTS VII PAGE Charles V, Saying of 317 Chatham, Lord 335 Chatterton's Misery 163 Chaucer in the Tower 211 Chaucer's Dream of a Crystal Palace .... 102 Cheeryble, Brothers 138 Chemical Experimenting 266 Chemists and Chemistry 62 Chemist's Dream 67 " Power over Matter 409 Chesterfield, Lord, and Johnson 282 Chillingworth 303 Chloroform and Ether 125 Christianity, Sir H. Davy on 272 Churchill's " Rosciad ". 183 Clairvoyance 392 Clarkson the Philanthropist 128 Classical Application 280 " Glory 151 " Spots in 385 Club, The Roxburgh 129 Coal, Steam and Iron 99 Cobbett's Early Recollections 336 Coffee-Houses, Literary 338 Coleridge as a Horseman 196 " as a Soldier 167 " at Rogers's 193 " Words worth and Cottle 180 Coleridge's Youth 190 " Opium-eating 190 " " Remorse for 192 " Absence of Mind 193 " Mistake of Silence for Wisdom 131 " "Watchman" 272 Collins the Poet ................ 305 Collodion and Gun-Cotton 105 Colman's, the Younger, Recollections of Goldsmith 296 " Coming Events Cast their Shadows Be- fore" 129 Commerce and Science 255 Comptroller of Stamps and Wordsworth. 200 Conchology and Collectors.. 352 Consonants, Doing Justice to the 147 Contentment of Boerhaave 122 Controversy, Scholastic 318 Conversation 328 " of Birch 259 " Burke 259 " Coleridge 260 " Descartes, La Fontaine, Butler, Addison, Mil- ton, etc 39 " Johnson 259 " Literary Men 131 Copyrights, American 324 Corneille 301 " Corsair," Byron's 268 " Cotter's Saturday Night " 325 Cottle's, Jos., Anecdotes of Coleridge.... 180 " Anecdotes of Wordsworth...... 181 Courtly Complaisance, D'Usez 279 Cowley and his Misfortunes 205 Cowper and his Critic 269 Cowper's, William, Letters 165 " School-boy Tormentor 165 " Amusements 176 " "JohnGilpin" 213 " Habits of Composition 171 " Poems at first Unsaleable ..... 51 " "Task" 172 Crabbe and Lord Chancellor Thurlow ... 175 PAGE Cranmer and Henry VIII 388 Critic, a true, defined by Swift 72 " Hoy al .,... 72 Critical Dictionary of Bayle 13 Criticism, Dying of 258 " of a Hatter's Sign 321 Criticized Poet 272 Critics and Criticism 72 Crusoe, Robinson, Manuscript of 127 Crystal Palace and Victoria Regia ..... . 347 " Poetical Prediction of .... 102 " Statistics of 102 Curran, Judicial Animosity against .... 131 " and Abernethy 118 Curran's Rebuke to Lord Clare on the Bench 132 " Opinion of Byron's Sorrows.... 159 Cuvier, Baron 247 Cuvier's Literature and Science 85 " Childhood 85 " Reconstruction of Organic Re- mains 86 Czar and Monk 439 Dale, Dr., and Queen Elizabeth 381 Dalrymple, Sir J., and Burns 228 Dalton's Atomic Theory and La Place.... 247 Dante's " Comedia " 28 Darwin's Prediction of Railways and Steamboats 105 Davies, Eleanor, and the Anagram 232 Davy, Sir Humphry, on Christianity .... 227 " Geologizing in Sicily 84 " Scott and the Tyrolese Patriot .... 256 " Wordsw'orth 179 " and the French Savans 247 Davy's, Sir Humphry, Industry and De- votedness 66 Dawes's, Sir W., Fondness of a Pun 304 Day in the Crystal Palace 358 Day, Author of " Sandford and Merton " 343 Decimals 298 Dedications 255, 313 De Lolme's Treatment in England 25 " De Mortuis nR nisi Bonum 293 Defoe, Daniel 140 " and the Ghost 32 " and the Union 22 Denon and Madame Talleyrand 19 Deodati and Dumoulin 311 Derby, Lord, and Brougham .. 294 Dermody and Chatterton '. 8 Descartes 289, 313 " Deserted Village," Goldsmith's.... . .. 189 Devil and Dr. Faustus 272 Diary, Moore's, Notes of a Speech in 178 Dibdin's Poems < 19 Dickens, Charles, and Squeers 138 " and the Brothers Cheeryble .... 138 Diet, Singular 357 Dinner, Poetical Invitation to. by Moore. 274 " Literary 255 Diplomatists, Singing and Dancing 221 Dipping Charles Lamb 162 Diversion, Literary 110 Diving-Bell, Descent in 98 Doctors, Female 122 Dollar, Origin of the Word 356 Don Quixote. . 31 Douglas's, David, Botanical Ardor and Hapless Fate 58 Dream, the Chemist's 67 Drelincourt upon Death 32 VIII CONTENTS. PAGE Drummond 97 Dryden at Westminster School 174 Dryden's Poverty and Toils 182 Ducking-Stool 373 Dungeon Compositions 211 Duns Scotus 30 Dutch, the 289 Dwight's Theology Dictated to an Aman- uensis . 41 44 Edinburgh Review " 334 Edward VI, the Gifted 290 Eldon, Lord, Traveling to London when a Boy 106 Electioneering Epigram 386 Electric Spark < 95 44 Telegraph, Comic 90 44 44 Early Ideas of 90 44 44 Marriage by 94 44 44 Origin of 91 44 44 Parliamentary 93 44 44 Romance of 88 44 44 Storm of 89 Electricity, Velocity of 94 Eliot and the Indians 437 Eloquence in Wine 46 Engineering, the Pyramids and the Rail- ways 99 English and German 289 English Wife on Saturday Night 355 Epitaph, Progress of an 75 Erasmus's 44 Colloquies " 311 Errata, Intentional 230 Errors of the Press 229, 230 Erskine's, Lord, Points 108 44 44 Debut at the Bar 145 44 Essay on Man," Pope's 210 Ether and Chloroform 125 Ettrick Shepherd and Scott 301 Euripides's Three Verses 218 44 Exegi Monumentum " 438 Experiments on the Lower Animals 1 Explorers of Africa, Early 79 Extempore Preaching 286 Falstaff's Buckram-men 263 Fans 373 Faraday, Michael, as a Lecturer 145 Faraday's Perseverance. 66 Faustus, Dr., and the Devil 227 Favorite Authors, Predilection for 44 Female Promoters of Science and Philos- ophy 80 Fenelon, a Saying of 12 Ferula of the Ancients 408 Fielding's 44 Amelia". 264 44 Fife and Drum " 29 Filicaia's Sonnets 46 Fitzgibbon and Curran 131 Forbes, Professor, in the Alps 249 Foulises of Glasgow, their Editions of Classics 228 Fox, Charles J., at Hastings's Trial 146 France, Savans of 247 Francis 1 318 Franklin, Benjamin, as a Bookseller 49 Franklin's, Benjamin, Discoveries 105 44 44 Knowledge of Lan- guages 153 French Academy 350 44 Blunders in Translation 438 44 and English 355 44 Mrs., a Female Doctor 122 PAGE Friend-hunter, a Disappointed 434 Froissart's Antiquarianism 39 Fuseli on Small Talk 272 Galileo's Blindness 8 44 Youthful Pursuits 251 44 Abjuration 252 Gallery of the House of Commons, Scene in 143 Galvanic Experiments on a Murderer.... 4 Galvinism, Discovery of 413 Galvanizing an Indian 387 Gardiner, W., in the Gallery of the House of Commons 143 Gassendi 288 Gay-Lussac 247 Gay's Wealth and Improvidence 222 44 Portrait 222 44 Appetite at Table 222 Geological Allegory 83 44 Discovery 416 Geology and Natural History 82 Geometry of Newton 6 German Students 404 " Gertrude of Wyoming," and Son of Brandt 202 Gibbon and Lord North 17 Gibbon's Roman Empire 27 44 Rule for Reading 236 Gladiatorship, Intellectual. 311 Glazing of Ancient Windows 415 Glover, Dr., and the Tulips 218 " God Save the King," Authorship of . 23 44 44 Origin of 213 Goethe's Novel 141 44 Facility of Composition 175 Goldsmith at Green Arbor Court 257 " and the Dog 203 Goldsmith's Blossom-colored Coat 285 44 Death and Debts . 20 44 41 Deserted Village " 189 44 Domestic Habits 215 44 Playfulness 296 44 Trial of an Amanuensis 40 Good Company 391 Gottingen, Celebration at 330 Graham, Dr. Robert, the Botanist 59 Grahame's, James, Singing 42 44 Sabbath 167 Grattan's Expression of Contempt 144 Gray and the Duchess 273 44 and Mason, Progress of an Epitaph 75 Gray's 44 Elegy," quasi Johnsonian Criti- cism of 222 44 44 Manuscript of 192 Great Plague and Great Fire in London.. 428 Greatness, Symptoms of 326 Grub Street 265 Guadaloupe Fossil Skeleton 365 Guizot, Precocity of 291 Gun-Cotton and Collodion 105 Gutta Percha, its Discovery and Uses.... 101 Hale, Sir Matthew 288 Haller's, Baron, Opinion of his own Poetry 192 Hall's, Robert, Precocity 291 Handel's 44 Messiah " 45 Harpers, the New York Publishers 231 Harrington's Extravagance 328 4 4 4 1 Oceana" 46 Harvey Ridiculed for his Discovery of the Circulation 115 CONTENTS. IX PAGE Harvey's examination of the living heart 4 Hastings, Mrs., a Female Doctor 122 Ilawkesworth and Bishop Newton 258 Haydon and Clarkson the Philanthropist 128 " at Sir Joshua Reynolds's 14 Hazlitt and Gifford 207 Heart, Examination of in Motion, by Har- vey 4 Heights and Depths 423 Helen 301 Hernans, Felicia, Visit to 165 " Described by an American 166 " Described by Miss Jewsbury.... 204 Henry, Patrick, the American Statesman 356 Heroines, Poetical 156 Herschel, Miss Caroline L 81 Hervey, Lord, and Pope 12 Hieroglyphics, a Poet's 172 Historical Omissions of Goldsmith 272 Hoax, Etymology of the Word 45 Hogg, James 301, 417 " Hohenlinden," Campbell's 217 Holy Writ, Illustrations of 410 " Home, Sweet Home," Fate of its Author 171 Hood, Thomas 307 Hook's, Theo. E., Extempore Versifying . 194 Hope. Dr. J., and the Stethoscope 126 Hough, Bishop 274 House of Commons, Applause in Gallery of 143 House of Commons. Speaker's Mace 399 " of Lords 419 " Hudibras," Elaboration of 42 " Pride of Author of 185 Human Skeleton, Fossil, in British Mu- seum 365 Humboldt, Baron, and the French Savans in Egy pt 250 Hume, David 297 Hume's Generosity to Blacklock 184 " Habits of Composition 9 Hunt, Leigh, and Thos. Campbell 201 Hunt's, Leigh, Description of Moore .... 203 Hunter and Cullen, Drs 267 Hunter's, John, Operation for Aneurism. 1 Hutton and Black's Snail-Dinner 268 " W., the Bookseller 231 Hutton's, Dr., Geological Enthusiasm... 85 Ibrahim Pasha's Autograph 434 Ignorance 327 " in Translators 439 Illuminators 50 Illustration, Equivocal, in Law 108 Imagination, Force of 30 Immortality , 323 Impromptu 322 Improvvisatori of Italy 223 " In Hoc Signo Vinces ".... 46 Information, the Latest 323 Ingenious Tritiing in Latin 110 Inoculation Introduced by Lady W Mon- tagu 118 Inquisition and Galileo 252 Insanity and Book-hunting 345 Inventions and Discoveries 87 Invitations 325 Iron, Coal and Steam 99 Irving, Edward 271 James I and Archie Armstrong 382 " in Lancashire...... 358 PAGE Jaw Dislocated 119 Jebb's, Sir R., Rapacity as a Physician . 121 Jeffrey, Francis, " Ultimus Romanorum. 72 Jeffrey's Duel with Moore 73 " Marriage 73 " Presentation Speech to Kemble. 146 " Playfulness and Affection 35 Jenner, Dr., and the Foreign Potentates. 120 Jenner's, Dr., Discovery of Vaccination . 115 " Discouragement, Honor and In- fluence 117 "Jerusalem Delivered," Tasso's 206 Jesuit in a Storm 279 " Joan of Arc," Southey's 212 " John Gilpin," Origin of 213 Johnson, Dr., on Milton's Sonnets 186 " and Goldsmith 20, 283 " and his " Beauties " 20 " and Dr. Parr 126 " and Voltaire 283 " and Burney 282 " and Lord Elibank 268 " and Osborne the Bookseller.... 127 " and the Philologist 151 " and the Poetess 321 " on Robertson's " Scotland "... 284 " on John Bunyan 281 Johnson's, Dr. Samuel, Rudeness 144 " Conversation 259 " Dictionary and Millar the Book- seller 53 " a Parliamentary Reporter 244 " Sermons 33 " Style 344 " Treatment of Boswell 261 Johnsoniana 281 Jones's, Sir William, Learning 150 " and his Mother 237 Julian " the Apostle " 109 Junker, Professor, and the Revived Crim- inal 1 Kay, John, the First Poet-Laureate 197 Keats, Wordsworth and Lamb 200 Keith, Mrs. M., and Waverly 142 Kemble, John, and Jeffrey's Presentation Speech 146 Kenyon's, Lord, Lapsus Linguse 109 Kepler's, John, Enthusiasm 7 Kew, Royal Botanic Garden 411 Knocking out an i 261 Knowing and Judging Books 237 Knowledge, Mode of Acquiring 256 Knox, John 289 La Place 247 " and his English Translator and Expositor 81 Laconic Lady, and Dr. Abernethy 124 Laidlaw, Wm., Amanuensis to Scott 41 Lalande and the French Revolutionists .. 7 " Lalla Rookh " Ill Lamartine's, M., Marriage 114 Lamb, Charles, and the Comptroller of Stamps 200 " Dipping at Hastings 162 " and the Poetaster 161 Lamb's Wit and Eccentricity 161 " Stammering Wit 275 Lamb, Lady Caroline 298 Lamp, the Davy 87 Landon, Letitia (L. E. L.) 177 X CONTENTS. PAGE Language, English 346 Laud, Archbishop, and Archie Armstrong 383 " Laudamy and Calamy " 329 Lavoiser's Discoveries and Fate 106 Law and Lawyers 106 Ledyard and Lucas, African Discovery... 79 Legislator from the Plow 401 Leighton, Archbishop 299 " Less than no time " 92 Leti the Historian, and Charles II 271 Letters, Cowper's, Elegance of....: 165 Letter-Writing 269 Leyden's, Dr. John, Early Studies 13 " " Complaynt of Scotland " .... 27 " Liberty, a Plant" 133 Libraries, Frederick the Great 236 " Arrangement of Books in An- cient 55 " Early English 55 Library, a Dictionary 317 " of British Museum 359 Lightning Steed 93 Linguist, Female 153 Linnaeus's Herbarium, Visit to, in London 59 Literary and Scientific Pursuits of Age.. 252 " Cautiousness 186 " Diversion 110 " Labor 356 " Men, Conversation of 131 " Property 56 " Property and Remuneration.... Ill " Residences 16 " Works, Cheapness of 112 Literature, its Pleasures and Toils 154 " as a Profession 339 Locke, J., on acquiring Knowledge - 256 Lodi's, Marco de, Sonnet 280 London, Classical Spots in 385 " Docks and Warehouses 423 " Old, Recollections of 294 Longfellow', Henry W 187 Lonsdale's Parliamentary " Ninepins " .. 294 Lord, a WTiimsical 339 Loughborough, Lord, and the Reporters. 244 Lubricating Business 116 Lunatic and Sportsman 353 Lycoperdon, or Puff-Ball 126 Lyndhurst and Brougham 145 Lyons, Archbishop of 329 Lyrical Writer, Fate of a 171 Macdiarmid's, J., Trialsand Death 23 Mace of the Royal Society 245 Machiavel and " Old Nick " 45 Machine, Calculating 335 Mackintosh and Madame de Stael 343 Mackintosh's, Sir J., Humor 271 Madman's Art 434 Magazine, The Gentleman's 112 Magazines 112 " The First 113 Magnet, Sir I. Newton's 105 Mammoth Cave of Martinique 416 Manner, Effect of, in Speaking 148 Manuscript of Gray's " Elegy " 192 Marlborough's, Duchess of, Apology 12 Marriages of Men of Genius 113 " Marseillaise," Origin of 216 Martineau, Miss, and the Pyramids 99 Mary Queen of Scots, her Letters 43 Mather, two Drs. of Boston 291 Mechanical Triumphs 114 PAGE Medical Men 115 Medicinal Anecdote 275 Medicis, Mary de 280 Menage 289 Milton and James II 189 Milton's Daughters, his Amanuenses .... 40 " Domestic Habits 214 " Literary Habits 20 " "Paradise Lost" 173 " " Paradise Regained " 173 " Sonnets 186 Mithridates and Cleopatra 150 Monomaniac in Chancery 109 Montagu's, Lady Mary W.. Letters 44 " " Latinity ..... 28 " Edward Wortley, Literary Stratagem 33 Montgomery, James, the Poet 218 " " and the Robber .... 189 Monumental Conceit, a 232 Moore, Thos., Bowles and Crabbe 178 " and Leigh Hunt 203 Moore's Diary, Extracts from 277 " Duel with Jeffrey 74 " Invitation to the Marquis of Lansdowne 274 " Singing 42 More, Hannah, and the Bristol Milkwoman 209 " True and Raise Sympathy 264 More, Sir Thomas 46, 300 More, Sir T., and Henry VIII 414 Museum, British, Founded by Sir II. Sloane 121 Mythology of Science 97 Namby-Pamby 23 Names Latinized 304 Napoleon, Anagram on 233 " Shooting a Bookseller 186 Napoleon's Savans in Egypt 250 National Characteristics 279 Nationality, French 347 Natural Compass 407 Necker and Le Veger 253 Necker's, Madame, Table-Talk 256 Newspapers 415 Newton, Bishop, and Hawkesworth 258 " Sir Isaac and the Royal Academy 6 Newton's Experiments on Soap Bubbles . 7 " Methods 6 " Absence of Mind.... 414 Niagara Safety Bridge 407 Niebuhr on Baise and Avernus 403 " Night Thoughts," Young's 206 Nineveh, Rapid Decay of 391 " Sculptures in British Museum . 369 Norton's, Sir F., " Two Little Manors ".. 108 Novels and Novelists 133 " of Defoe, Goethe and Miss Burney 141 " Botanical Classification of 285 O'Carroll, The 394 Ocean Volcano. 431 Ogilvie, Dr. Johnson's Sarcasm to 13 Old Names with New Faces 398 Oldys, W., and his Anagram 233 Oracles 280 Oratory and Elocution 143 Organic Remains, Superstitions Respect- ing 84 Origines 311 Orthography, Foreign 407 CONTENTS XI PAGE Ossian's Poems 46 O'Sullivan the Reporter, and Wilberforce 289 Otranto, Castle of 354 Otway's Death and Debts 21 Over-Poetic Poet 218 Overtasking the Mind 394 " Pamela," Richardson's 339 Paper-Making Machinery 96 " Paradise Lost " 173 " French Translation of.. 438 Parliamentary Electric Telegraph 93 " Reprimand 108 11 Repartee 379 Parr, Dr., and Samuel Johnson 126 " and Thomas Moore 277 " Erudition 28 Pascal 342, 344, 345 Paselikin, a Russian Poet 187 Pastimes of Poets 110 Patronage, an Author Soliciting 326 Pedagogue and Pig-iron 392 Peel and Byron .. 182 Pennant's Eccentricities 345 Percival, the American Poet 205 Perfumed Gloves at Oxford 264 Perils of the Alps 248 Peter the Great a Surgeon 266 "Peverilof the Peak" 332 Philology and Linguists 150 Philosophy, Inductive, Bacon its Founder 87 Physiognomy 344 Piracy in the Pulpit 154 Pitcairne and Dutch Degrees 335 Pitt and the Duke of Newcastle 346 Pitt, Fox and Sheridan, in Debate...;... 147 Planet-watchers at Greenwich 406 Plants, British 435 Pleasures and Toils of Literature 154 Plundering a Crystal Grotto 400 Poe, Edgar Allen, the American Poet.... 161 " " Retort upon a Critic .. 189 Poet Laureate, the First 197 Poetic Effusion, First in America. 207 " Inspiration, Goldsmith's 203 Poetry and Poets 159 " and Practice 300 Poets at Breakfast 160 " Extempore, of Italy 223 " Unharnessing a Horse 181 Pollok, Robert, as a Divinity Student ... 195 Polyglot Housekeeper . ......... 402 Pompeian Drawing-room 436 Ponderous Erudition 224 Pope Innocent XI 318 Pope no Public Speaker 10 Pope's Accuracy 163 " " Dunciad " and Enemies 186 " Early Popularity 187 " Feud with Voltaire 184 " Sarcasms on Lord Hervey 12 Popularity of Poets 172, 192 Porson, Professor, Anecdotes of 26 " and the Oxonian in a stage-coach 151 " and Gillies on Greek Metres 152 " at School 342 Person's Humor 316 " Memory 341 " Retort not Courteous 151 Portland Vase in the British Museum.... 395 Port-Royal Society 287 Postscripts to Ladies' Letters 293 PAGE Poulet's, Lord W., Ignorance 844 Preacher, a Gascon 319 Preachers and Actors 147 Preaching, Extempore 286 Precocity of Authors 8 Priestly, Dr., not an Analyst. 67 Printing and Printers 224 " of Tindal's New Testament .... 225 " Press, first English 227 Prior, Matthew, Poet and Diplomatist... 221 Proby, John, the Parliamentary Reporter 242 Pronunciation, American 256 " Vulgar 384 Property, Literary Ill Prynne. William 288 Psalmody 433 Publishers 50, 231 Pulpit Climaxes 376 " Piracy in 154 " the 148 Pun on a Tea-Chest 233 Punctuation 225, 342 Punning in French 233 " in Latin 234,304 " Text 376 Puns, Translatable 380 " and Anagrams 232 Pursuits of Johnson, Chaucer, Celini and Franklin in advanced Life... 253 " of Dryden, Angelo, Wren and Accorso, in advanced Life.... 253 Quantity and Quality 318 Queen Elizabeth's Manuscripts 292 Quid Pro Quo 302 Rabelais's Opinion of the World 182 Racan 281 Racine and Boileau 185 Railway System 99 Railways and Steamboats, Poetical Predic- tion of 105 Raleigh's History of the World 10 Readers, Book-stall 334 Reading 234 " Elegant and Expressive 147 <! Hood the Humorist on 237 " Methodical 236 Receipt for Payment of " Paradise Lost " 199 Reid's, Dr. John, Heroism 5 Relics 358 Religion and Law ,. 106 Reporting and Reporters 239 " from Memory 245 Reports, the First Parliamentary 243 Retort, Courteous 324 Reward of Poetical Composition 187 Richard I 322 Richelieu, Cardinal 325 Ritson the Antiquary, and Leyden 27 Rival Remembrance 207 Robber and Restitution to a Poet 189 Rogers's, Samuel, Wealth and Taste 197 Rolinus's Sermons 278 Rome 318 Romilly's Affection 104 "Rosciad," Churchill's 183 Rousseau's Account of Himself 15 " Quarrel with David Hume ... 37 Rowe, Mrs., and Dr. Watts. 185 Roxburgh Club 129 XII CONTENTS. PAGE Roxburgh Library, Sale of 49 Royal Society of London, Mace of 245 Sale of Literary Works Ill Santeuil and the Devil 319 " Sat Ci to, Si Sat Bene " 107 Satire, How to Circulate a 310 Saussure and the Arran Mineralogist.... 82 Savans in Egypt, their Joint'Work 250 " of France, Napoleon's, in Egypt 247,250 Scaliger, Julius .... 287 Scarron and the Hiccup 279 Skepticism 201 Schiller's True Nobility 265 Schoeffer, Peter, Inventor of Movable Types 225 Scholar, a Scarred 395 Schonbein, Professor, Inventor of Gun- Cotton 105 " Schoolmaster Abroad " 293 Science and Commerce 255 " Royal Problem in 333 " its Triumphs 248 Scientific Adventure 248 " and Literary Pursuits of Age.. 252 " Men 250 Scott, Sir Walter, Sir II. Davy, and the Tyrolese Patriot 272 " on Acquiring Knowledge 256 11 and the American Authoress 137 Scott's, Sir Walter, Amanuenses 41 " " ' Breakfasts 338 " " Early Life 134 " " First Verses 174 " " Habits 135 " " Habits of Composition 133 " " Reverses 137 Scott, Sir William, his Wit, and Dislike to Novelty 106 Scottish Prospects, Johnson on 13 Scribe, Indian, in the Field of Battle.... 435 " Seasons," Thomson's 206 Sedan Chairs 397 Sedgwick's, Miss, Visit to Joanna Baillie. 164 Servants 334 Sex, the Fair 326 Shakspeare 319 " and the Climate of Scotland. 129 Shelley's Amusements 337 " Death and Funeral 215 " Library 292 Sheridan and Richardson 30 " Parliamentary Retort of 143 Sheridan's Critical Formula for New Books 72 " Debts and Evasions 31 " Potions 149 " in Bellamy's, and " up " in the House 149 Shirt Tree 432 Shooting a Bookseller 186 Sketches in the Great Exhibition 393 Silence not the Indication of Wisdom.... 131 Sloane's, Sir H., Liberality . 121 Smellie, William, the Edinburgh Printer, and Burns 228 Smith, James, Author of " Rejected Ad- dresses " 273 Smith, Sydney, and Brougham 256 " " and Landseer the Painter 256 " " and Southey 305 Smith, Sir Harry, the Caffres, and the Voltaic Battery 95 PAGE Smith's, Adam, Absence of Mind 257 " l: Amusements of Age 254 " " Habits of Composition... 9 " " Taciturnity. .-. 9 Smith, Sydney, Memory 343 Smith, Sir J. E., Purchase of Linnaeus's Herbarium 59 Smoker, the First 324 Smollett's, Tobias, Struggles 24 " " England 52 Snail-Dinner ..... 268 Snail-eating, Modern 352 Solander, Dr., and Sir Joseph Banks 14 Sounding Line 435 Sounds 382 Southey and Campbell, Altercation with a Shop-keeper 11 Southey, Mrs 178 Southey's Visit to Sydney Smith 305 '* ''Joan of Arc" 212 " Sonnet to Miss Bowles 178 South's, Dr., Stolen Sermon 154 Spaniards in Spanish Town 391 Speaking Evil 325 Speaking a Foreign Language 254 Speckbacker, the Tyrolese Patriot, Sir W. Scott, and Sir H. Davy 256 Speeches, Long, and Gray Hairs 280 Spinola and Louis XIV 280 Squeers and the Yorkshire School 138 Stael, Madame 80 Stammering Wit, Lamb's 275 Stationers' Company 230 Statues to Great Men 384 Steam-Horse 99 Sterne Rebuked for Profanity 274 Sterne's Death 297 " Hard-heartedness 140 " Maudlin Sensibility 296 " Sermons (Yorick's) 13 Stethoscope 126 Stewart, Scott, Chalmers and Jeffrey .... 72 Stories, Stupid . 345 Stowe the Antiquary 18 Stowell's, Lord, Aversion to Changes... (. 106 Study 407 Sugar Plums in Henry Ill's time 263 Sun, Spots on 319 Superstition and Science 246 Supple, Mark, the Parliamentary Reporter 242 Surgery, Ancient State of, in Scotland... 123 Swift and Bettesworth 195 Swift's, Jonathan, Conversation 220 " Eccentricity 173 " Latin Puns 234 " Mental Malady 219 " Personal Character 315 " Power of Invective 314 " Religion 220 " Rudeness to Lady Burlington .... 219 Table-Talk and Varieties 254 Talmud, Jewish 288 " Task." Cowper's 172 Tasso and Ariosto 75 " and his Critics.... 206 Teaching, Popular 316 " Teetotal," Origin of the Word 344 Telegraphic Blunder 95 " Office, Storm in 95 " Reporting in America 92 Thames Tunnel 103 CONTENTS PAGE Whewell, Dr., and the College "Dons. 250 White, Professor 317 White's, Henry K., Love of Fame 180 " Youthful Genius 213 Whitefield's " Oh! " 148 Widow, and the Cure 278 Wig Riot 379 Wilberforce and the Irish Reporter 259 Wilberforce's Practical Views Dictated to an Amanuensis 41 Wilkin's Proposed Voyage to the Moon .. 293 Williams's, Rev. J., and the Rarotongan. 235 Wilson, Professor, and Campbell, at Pais- ley Races 163 "Winter," Thomson's, in the Bookseller's 217 Wit and Wisdom 345 Wolsey, Cardinal 263 Words, Corruptions of 343 " Misapplication of, by Foreigners . 129 Wordsworth and Haydon 16 " and Sir H. Davy 179 " Coleridge and Cottle 180 " Lamb and Keats at Haydon's Dinner 200 " Mrs., the Farmer's Wife, and the Stock-dove 16 " Suspected by the Country People 170 Wordsworth's Farewell Visit to Scott .... 332 " Literary Talk 170 " Lyrical Ballads ... ; 112 " Want of Smell 194 Writing, Characters in 259 " for the Present 210 " History 271 " South Sea Islanders' Notion of . 235 " Worthless 347 Yearsley, Ann, the Poetic Milkwoman... 209 Young, Dr., Epigram 413 " and Tonson and Lintot the Publishers 50 Young's, Dr., Lamp for Tragedy 20 " "Night Thoughts" 206 " Satire on Sir Hans Sloane. 122 Zimmerman's Retort to Frederick the Great 123 XIII PAGE Things to be Done at Once 290 Thomson and Quin 206 Time, Loss of 318 Tindal's New Testament 225 Title, a Curious 197 Tobacco 258, 433 Tonson the Elder and Dryden 51, 111 Townley the Antiquarian 349 Townley's Translation of "Hudibras" .. 437 Transfusion of Blood 246 Translations and Translators 437 Traveling Library, Person's 150 " Tu Doces " 233 Turner and Campbell 190 Tyndale's Translation of the New Testa- ment 437 Typographical Errors 229, 230 Ure's, Dr., Experiments on a Murderer's Corpse 4 Vaccination, Discovery of 115 Vandalism of Gregory VII 288 Versifying Extemporaneously, Hook's ... 194 Versifying Extemporaneously in Italian . 223 " Vicar of Wakefield " > 142 Victoria Regia and Crystal Palace 347 Voltaire and Montesquieu 330 " and the Englishman 323 " Description of 10 " His Cup, and his Petulance 299 " and Johnson 283 Voltaire's Eagle 320 " Feud with Pope 184 " Genius 323 " Marianne 320 Walpole's Opinion of Johnson 347 Walton, Izaak 197 " and Reid 254 Warburton and Pope 210 Watering-Places, Ancient Roman 403 Watts, Dr., and Mrs. Rowe 185 Waverly, Authorship of 142 "We" 260 Weighing Machine of Bank of England.. 104 Welsh Curate and Tillotson's Sermons... 439 " Wet the Ropes " 98 CYCLOPAEDIA OF LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC ANECDOTE. ANATOMISTS AND ANATOMY. not been amply compensated by the untold sum of human agony which it has since prevented; or deny that he who tortured the living dog, did not merely a law- ful, but also a meritorious act. One could almost imagine the dog proud of the service it had ren- dered to mankind. The operation introduced by Hunter is now uni- versally practiced in surgery. Experiments on the lower ANIMALS. Dr. George Wilson, in his Life of Dr. John Reid, shows by the following instance, that there are occasions on wdiich the infliction of suffering on the lower animals may, so far from being intention- ally cruel, be the fruit of an en- lightened and profound humanity. Till late in the last century, aneur- ism in the arteries was treated by cuting off the limb. The great physiologist, John Hunter, was led by his intimate knowledge of anat- omy to think it probable, that by the simple device of tying a silk thread round the artery in a cer- tain part of its course, he should be able to cure the disease, and save both life and limb. He made trial on living dogs, and succeed- ed ; he proceeded to do the same with the human sufferer from aneurism, and, at the expense of a small amount of pain, effected a cure. No one in his senses (says the -writer) will say that the in- fliction of a little transient pain on a dog some eighty years ago, has RjtfjFESSOR JUNKER. Many who were personally ac- quainted with the celebrated Jun- ker, professor of the University of Halle, have frequently heard him relate the following anecdote : Being professor of anatomy, he once procured, for dissection, the bodies of two criminals w'ho had been hanged. The 'key of the dissecting-room not being imme- diately at hand, when they were brought home to him, he ordered them to be laid down in an apart- ment which opened into his bed- chamber. The evening came, and Junker, according to custom, pro- ceeded to resume his literary labors before he retired to rest. 2 ANATOMY AND ANATOMISTS. It was now near midnight, and all his family were fast asleep, when he heard a rumbling noise in his closet. Thinking that, by some mistake, the cat had been shut up with the dead bodies, he arose, and taking the candle, went to see what had happened. But what must have been his astonishment, or rather his panic, on perceiving that the sack, which contained the two bodies, was rent through the middle ? He approached, and found that one of them was gone! The doors and windows were well secured, and that the body could have been stolen he thought impossible. He tremblingly look- ed round the closet, and found the dead man seated in a corner. Junker stood for a moment mo- tionless ; the dead man seemed to look towards him ; he moved both to the right and to the left, but the dead man still kept his eyes fixed on him. The professor then retir- ed, step by step, with his eye still fixed upon the object of alarm, and holding the candle in his hand until he reached the door. The dead man instantly started up and followed him. A figure of so hideous an appearance, naked, and in motion, the lateness of the hour, the deep silence which prevailed, everything concurred to over- whelm him with confusion. He let fall the only candle which was burning, and all was darkness! He made his escape to his apart- ment, and threw himself on his bed; thither, however, he was followed; and he soon found the dead man embracing his legs, and loudly sobbing. Repeated cries of " Leave me I leave me!" released Junker from the grasp of the dead man, who now exclaimed, "Ah! good exe- cutionei*! good executioner! have mercy upon me!" Junker soon perceived the cause of what had happened, and resumed his fortitude. lie inform- ed the reanimated sufferer whom he really was, and made a motion in order to call up some of his family. " You then wish to de- stroy me," exclaimed the criminal. " If you call up any one, my ad- venture will become public, and I shall be executed a second time. In the name of humanity I implore you to save my life." The physician struck a light, decorated his guest with an old night-gown, and having made him drink a cordial, requested to know what had brought him to the gib- bet? "It would have been truly a singular exhibition," observed Junker, " to have seen me, at that late hour, engaged in a tete-a-tete with a dead man, decked out in an old night-gown." The poor wretch informed him, that he had enlisted as a soldier, but that, having no great attach- ment to the profession, he had de- termined to desert; that he had intrusted his secret to a kind of crimp, a fellow of no principle, who recommended him to a wo- man, in whose house he was to remain concealed; that this wo- man had discovered his retreat to the officers of police, etc. Junker was extremely perplex- ed how to save the poor man. It was impossible to retain him in his own house; and to turn him ANATOMY AND ANATOMISTS. 3 out of doors was to expose him to certain destruction. He resolved to conduct him out of the city, in order that he might get him into a foreign jurisdiction; but it was necessary to pass the gates, which were strictly guarded. To accom- plish this point, he dressed him in some of his old clothes, covered him with a cloak, and, at an early hour, set out for the country, with his protege, behind him. On ar- riving at the city gate, where he was well known, he said, in a hurried tone, that he had been sent for to visit a sick person in the suburbs, who was dying. He was permitted to pass. Having both got into the fields, the desert- er threw himself at the feet of his deliverer, to whom he vowed eter- nal gratitude ; and, after receiving some pecuniary assistance, de- parted, offering up prayers for his happiness. Twelve years after, Junker, having occasion to go to Amsterdam, was accosted on the Exchange by a man well dressed, and of the first appearance, who, he had been informed, was one of the most respectable merchants of that city. The merchant, in a polite tone, inquired whether he was not Professor Junker, of Halle? and, being answered in the affirmative, he requested, in an earnest manner, his company to dinner. The professor con- sented. Having reached the mer- chant's house, he was shown into an elegant apartment, where he found a beautiful wife, and two fine healthy children; but he could scarcely suppress his astonishment at meeting so cordial a reception from a family, with whom he thought he was entirely unac- quainted. After dinner, the merchant, tak- ing him into his counting-room, said, "You do not recollect me?" " Not at all." " But I will recol- lect you, and never shall your fea- tures be effaced from my remem- brance : you are my benefactor: I am the person who came to life in your closet, and to whom you paid so much attention. On parting from you, I took the road to Hol- land ; I wrote a good hand; was tolerably good at accounts; my figure was somewhat interesting, and I soon obtained employment as a merchant's clerk. My good conduct, and my zeal for the in- terests of my patron, procured me his confidence, and his daughter's love. On his retiring from busi- ness I succeeded him, and became his son-in-law. But for you, how- ever, I should not have lived to experience all these enjoyments. Henceforth, look upon my house, my fortune, and myself, as at your disposal." Those who possess the smallest portion of sensibility can easily represent to themselves the feelings of Junker. piJiCtLAR GALVANIC EXPERI- MENTS. The galvanic experiments which have hitherto been made by phi- losophers upon animal bodies, may be reduced to nearly a single point; the statement of which will suffice to give the reader a general idea of the subject. Lay bare any principal nerve, which leads im- mediately to some great limb or muscle; when this is done, let that part of the nerve which is 4 ANATOMY AND ANATOMISTS. exposed, and which is farthest from the limb or muscle, be brought into contact with a piece of zinc. While in this state, let the zinc be touched by a piece of silver, while another part of the silver touches the naked nerve, if not dry, or the muscle to which it leads, whether dry or not. In this state, violent contractions will be produced in the limb or muscle, but not in any muscle on the other side of the zinc. Among the numerous experi- ments which have lately been made, very few have been more singular in their effects than those which were produced by Dr. Ure, in Glasgow, on the body of a man named Clydesdale, who had been executed for murder. These ef- fects were produced by a voltaic battery of 270 pair of four-inch plates, of which the results were terrible. In the first experiment, on moving the rod from the thigh to the heel, the leg was thrown forward with so much violence as nearly to overturn one of the as- sistants. In the second experi- ment, the rod was applied to the phrenic nerve in the neck, -when laborious breathing commenced; the chest heaved and fell; the belly was protruded and collapsed with the relaxing and retiring diaphragm; and it was thought that nothing but the loss of blood prevented pulsation from being restored. In the third experi- ment, the supra-orbital nerve was touched, when the muscles of the face were thrown into frightful actions and contortions. The scene was hideous, and many spectators left the room; and one gentleman nearly fainted, either from terror, or from the momentary sickness which the scene occasioned. In the fourth experiment, from meet- ing the electric power, from the spinal marrow to the elbow, the fingers were put in motion, and the arm was agitated in such a manner, that it seemed to point to some spectators, who were dread- fully terrified, from an apprehen- sion that the body was actually coming to life. From these ex- periments Dr. Ure seemed to be of opinion, that had not incisions been made in the blood-vessels of the neck, and the spinal marrow been lacerated, the body of the criminal might have been restored to life. harj«y's examination of the HEART. In the time of Charles I, a young nobleman of the Montgom- ery family had an abscess in the side of his chest, in consequence of a fall. The wound healed, but an opening was left in his side of such a size that the heart and lungs were still visible, and could be handled. On the return of the young man from his travels, the King heard of the circumstance, and requested Dr. Harvey to ex- amine his heart. The following is Harvey's own account of the examination : " When I had paid my respects to this young noble- man and conveyed to him the King's request, he made no con- cealment, but exposed the left side of his breast, where I saw a cavity into which I could introduce my finger and thumb. Astonished with the novelty, again and again ANATOMY AND ANATOMISTS. 5 I explored the wound, and, first marveling at the extraordinary nature of the case, I set about the examination of the heart. Taking it in one hand, and placing the finger of the other on the pulse of the wrist, I satisfied myself that it was indeed the heart which I grasped. I then brought him to the King, that he might behold and touch so extraordinary a thing, and that he might perceive, as I did, that unless when we touched the outer skin, or when he saw our fingers in the cavity, this young nobleman knew not that we touched the heart." and old playmates, they all were, and now they were assembled to perform, with grieved hearts, a cruel and painful task. For doc- tors so circumstanced there is no sympathy in the unprofessional public heart. The surgeon who can lift his knife upon his friend, is looked upon as little better than an assassin in spirit. Yet among the medical men who were with Dr. Reid on that painful day, were hearts as tender, affectionate, and gentle, as we need wish or may hope to find. Sorely reluctant had they been to undertake the unwelcome duty to which they were now called. Only the con- viction that there was no other way of serving him whom they loved so deeply, gave them cour- age to go on; and no one under- stood this better than he who was the object of all this sympathy. On his side there was correspond- ing courage, and he showed entire submission to their guidance. The operation he had to undergo was not one which admitted of allevia- tion of its pains by the adminis- tration of anaesthetics. It required not merely endurance, but firm- ness and active fortitude ; and the patient was expected to be some- thing more than that negative term implies. Nor was the ex- pectation disappointed. His face wore even a smile, as, before put- ting himself in Mr. Fergusson's hands,he recognized an old school- fellow among the non-medical attendants, and saluted him with a sobriquet of the play-ground. Throughout the operation he ren- dered every assistance, by delib- erate acts implying real heroism. I/R. JOHN REID HIS HEROISM. The late Dr. Reid was afflicted with cancer in the tongue, which ultimately extended to the throat, causing his death. He was twice operated upon, and directed the surgeon's knife on both occasions, the parts affected being those on which he had thrown fresh light by his physiological researches. In his memoir, by Dr. George Wilson, an admirable piece of scientific and religious biography, the following particulars are given: " There were unusual elements of piety in Dr. Reid's case. The physician was for the time the patient; the public speaker was struck inarticulate and dumb; and it was a surgeon who was under the knife of the surgeons. But this was by no means all. The surgeons were the attached friends of the patient. They did not gather round him, with cold pro- fessional eye, to discharge an official duty. Fellow-lecturers, fellow-students, or fellow-scholars, 6 ASTRONOMERS AND ASTRONOMY. Chloroform was purposely with- held, that the sufferer, with every sensation and faculty alive, might assist, and literally become an operator upon himself." The wound had scarcely healed, when the disease returned, and another operation was performed ; on this occasion under the effects of chlo- roform. When he partially awoke from the state of insensibility thus induced, his resolute firmness was strangely mingled with gleams of his native humor. He remem- bered afterwards that whilst his friends were anxiously applying a ligature to a divided artery, he was seized with a strong desire to let it "spout" on the white neck- cloth of one of them. This genial man and ingenious physiologist, sank under a third recurrence of the fatal disease. ASTRONOMERS AND ASTRONOMY. of Europe. His little reflecting telescope, the germ of the colossal instruments of Herschel and Lord Kosse, was deemed one of the wonders of the age.-Brewster, North British lieview. SIR ISAAC NEWTON AND THE ROYAL SOCIETY. In 1G71, Mr. Isaac Newton, Professor of Mathematics at Cam- bridge, was proposed as a Fellow of the Royal Society by Seth Ward, Bishop of Sarum. Newton, then in his thirtieth year, had made several of his greatest dis- coveries. lie had discovered the different refrangibility of light. He had invented the reflecting telescope. He had deduced the law of gravity from Kepler's theo- rem ; and he had discovered the method of fluxions. When he heard of his being proposed as a Fellow, he expressed to Olden- burg, the secretary, his hope that he would be elected, and added, that "he would endeavor to testify his gratitude by communicating what his poor and solitary endeav- ors could effect towards the pro- moting their philosophical design." The communications which New- ton made to the Society, excited the deepest interest in every part The doctrine of universal grav- itation is one of the greatest of human discoveries. The follow- ing remarks by Mr. Whewell tend to enhance the admiration and wonder with which the immortal discoverer will always be regard- ed. " No one for sixty years after the publication of the Principia, and, with Newton's methods, no one up to the present day, has added anything of any value to his deductions. We know that he calculated all the principal lunar inequalities ; in many of the cases he has given us his process- es, in others only his results. But who has presented in his beau- tiful geometry, or deduced from his simple principles, any of the inequalities which he left un- newton's methods. ASTRONOMERS AND ASTRONOMY. 7 touched ? The ponderous instru- ment of synthesis, so effective in his hand, has never since been grasped by one who could use it for such purposes; and we gaze at it with admiring curiosity, as on some gigantic implement of war, which stands idle among the memorials of ancient days, and makes us wonder what manner of man he was who could wield as a weapon what we can hardly lift as a burden." he turned round and said, "My dear madam, the person whom you suppose to be a poor lunatic is no other than the great Sir Isaac Newton, studying the re- fraction of light upon thin plates, a phenomenon which is beautifully exhibited upon the surface of a commom soap-bubble." This an- ecdote serves as an excellent moral not to ridicule what we do not understand, but gently and in- dustriously to gather wisdom from every circumstance around us. SIR ISAAC NEWTON'S EXPERI- MENTS. When Sir Isaac Newton changed his residence, and went to live in Leicester Place, his next-door neighbor was a widow lady, who was much puzzled by the little she had observed of the philosopher. One of the Fellows of the Royal Society of London called upon her one day, when, among othei' domestic news, she mentioned that some one had come to reside in the adjoining house, who she felt certain was a poor crazy gentle- man, " because," she continued, "he diverts himself in the oddest ways imaginable. Every morn- ing, when the sun shines so brightly that we are obliged to draw the window-blinds, he takes his seat in front of a tub of soap- suds, and occupies himself for hours blowing soap-bubbles thro' a common clay pipe, and intently watches them till they burst. He is doubtless now at his favorite amusement," she added; "do come and look at him." The gentleman smiled, and then went up stairs, when, after looking through the window into the adjoining yard, JOHN KEPLER HIS ENTHUSI- ASM. When John Kepler discovered, aftei' seventeen years of incessant investigation, the third of his laws, namely, that relating to the con- nection between the periodic times and the distances of the planets, his delight knew no bounds.- "Nothing holds me," says he; " I will indulge in my sacred fury; I will triumph over man- kind by the honest confession, that I have stolen the golden vases of the Egyptians, to build up a tab- ernacle for my God, far away from the confines of Egypt. If you forgive me, I rejoice; if you are angry, 1 can bear it. The die is cast; the book is written, to be read either now or by posterity,- I care not which. It may well wait a century for a reader, as God has waited six thousand years for an observer." LALANDE. Lalande, the French astrono- mer, when the Revolution broke out, only paid the more attention to the revolutions of the heavenly 8 AUTHORS. bodies; and when he found, at the end, that he had escaped the fury of Robespierre and his fellow- ruffians, he gratefully remarked, " I may thank my stars for it." from the operation of couching. These hopes were fallacious. The disease turned out to be in the cornea, and every attempt to re- store its transparency was fruit- less. In a few months the white cloud covered the whole aperture of the pupil, and Galileo became totally blind. This sudden and severe calamity had almost over- whelmed Galileo and his friends. In writing to a correspondent he exclaims: "Alas! your dear friend and servant has become totally and irreparably blind. These heavens, this earth, this universe, which by wonderful observation I had enlarged a thousand times beyond the belief of past ages, are henceforth shrunk into the narrow space which I occupy myself. So it pleases God; it shall, therefore, please me also." Galileo's blindness. The last telescopic observations of Galileo resulted in the discov- ery of the diurnal libration of the moon. Although his right eye had for some years lost its power (says Sir David Brewster), yet his general vision was sufficiently perfect to enable him to carry on his usual researches. In 1636, however, this affection of the eye became more serious; and, in 1637, his left eye was attacked with the same disease. His med- ical friends at first supposed that cataracts were formed in the crys- talline lens, and anticipated a cure AUTHORS. PRECOCITY DERMODY, CHATTERTON, ETC. forth with admiration. Very dif- ferent at this time was the fate of our extraordinary youth; with no pattern of prudence before his eyes, no stimulus to exertion, no protecting hand to cherish the opening bud of genius; but, like the unhappy Chatterton, slum- bering in obscurity, neglected and unknown.-Life by Raymond. Dermody died at the age of twenty-seven years and six months. In the cast of his mind he resembled the unfortunate Chatterton, and in his propensities the eccentric Sav- age, but in precocity of talent and Cowley received the applauses of the great at eleven, Pope at twelve, and Milton at sixteen. The meed of distinguished praise, therefore, cannot be denied this wonderful boy [DermodyJ, when it is related that at ten years old he had written as much genuine poetry as either of these great men had produced at nearly dou- ble that age. Reared in the me- tropolis of a great nation, where genius finds so many excitements, their early effusions were blazoned AUTHORS. 9 of classical information, excelled both them and every other rival, having in the first fourteen years of his life acquired a competent knowledge of the Greek, the Lat- in, the French, and Italian lan- guages, and a little of the Spanish. Like Savage, he would participate in the pleasures of the lowest company, but had not the same eagerness after money, nor the same effrontery in demanding it of his friends. And notwithstand- ing Dermody's insatiate desire for liquor kept him in perpetual pov- erty, yet his applications (though full of lamentations) were never degraded by meanness or fulsome adulation ; nor did ingratitude, in his worst excesses, ever sully his character through life.... Had he qualified those errors which hurt only himself; had his ambition kept pace with the encouragement which he received; had he studied and pursued moral with the same ardor as poetical; had his regard for character and decorum equal- ed his poverty and his love of dis- sipation ; he might have lived to be the admiration of the great, the wonder of the learned, and the or- nament of society: science might have smiled upon his labors, fame might have proclaimed his excel- lence, and posterity with delight would record his name. But mis- taking the way to happiness, he plunged into misery, and fell an early victim to imprudence.-Life by Raymond. PECULIARITIES AND ECCENTRICITIES. ADAM SMITH AND DAVID HUME. Mr. Smith observed to me, not long before his death, " that after all his practice in writing, he com- posed as slowly, and with as great difficulty as at first." He added, at the same time, that Mr. Hume had acquired so great a facility in this respect, that the last volume of his history was printed from the orig- inal copy, with a few marginal cor- rections. Mr. Smith, when he was employed in composition, gen- erally walked up and down his apartment, dictating to a secreta- ry. All Mr. Hume's works (it has been said) were written with his own hand.-Stewart. always been occupied, and the va- riety of materials which his own invention continually supplied to his thoughts, rendered him habit- ually inattentive to familiar ob- jects, and to common occurrences. On this account, he was remark- able, throughout the whole of life, for speaking to himself when alone, and for being so absent in company, as, on some occasions, to exceed almost what the fancy of a Bruyere could imagine. In company, he was apt to be en- grossed by his studies; and ap- peared, at times, by the motion of his lips, as well as by his looks and gestures, to be in the fervor of composition. It was observed, that he rarely started a topic him- self, or even fell in easily with the common dialogue of conversation. ADAM SMITH. The comprehensive specula- tions with which Mr. Smith had 10 AUTHORS. When he did speak, however, he was somewhat apt to convey his ideas in the form of a lecture; but this never proceeded from a wish to engross the discourse, or to gratify his vanity. His own inclination disposed him so strong- ly to enjoy, in silence, the gaiety of those around him, that his friends were often led to concert little schemes, in order to bring on the subjects most likely to in- terest him.-Life. poet ardent for distinction, is more assiduous with his pen, or more anxious for fresh fame than the wealthy and applauded Seigneur Ferney. Happy if this extraor- dinary man had confined his gen- ius to its native home, to the walks which the muses love ; and that he had never deviated from these into the thorny paths of im- piety !-Dr. John Moore. POPE NO PUBLIC SPEAKER. VOLTAIRE. I never could speak in public; and I do not believe that if it was a set thing, I could give an account of any story to twelve friends to- gether ; though I could tell it to any three of them with a great deal of pleasure. When I was to appear for the Bishop of Roches- ter on his trial, though I had but ten words to say, and that on a plain, easy point (how that bishop spent his time whilst I was with him at Bromley), I made two or three blunders in it; and that, not- withstanding the first row of Lords (which were all I could see) were mostly of my acquaintance.-Pope. This extraordinary person has contrived to excite more curiosity, and to retain the attention of Eu- rope for a longer space of time, than any other man this age has produced, monarchs and heroes included. His person is that of a skeleton ; but this skeleton, this composition of skin and bone, has a look of more spirit and vivacity than is generally produced by flesh and blood, however bloom- ing and youthful. The most piercing eyes I ever beheld are those of Voltaire, now in his eigh- tieth year. His whole counte- nance is expressive of genius, observation, and extreme sensibil- ity. An air of irony never entirely forsakes his face, but may always be observed lurking in his features, whether he frowns or smiles. By far the greatest part of his time is spent in his study, and whether he reads him- self, or listens to another, he al- ways has a pen in his hand, to take down notes or make re- marks. Composition is his prin- cipal amusement. No author who writes for daily bread, no young raleigh's history. Raleigh's History of the World was composed during his impris- onment in the Tower. Only a small portion of the work was published, owing to the following singular circumstance: One after- noon looking through his window into one of the courts in the Tow- er, Sir Walter saw two men quar- rel, when the one actually mur- dered the other ; and shortly after two gentlemen, friends to Sir Walter, coming into his room, af- ter expressing what had happened, AUTHORS 11 they disagreed in their manner of relating the story; and Sir Wal- ter, who had seen it himself, con- curred that neither was accurate, but related it with another varia- tion. The three eye-witnesses disagreeing about an act so re- cently committed, put Sir Walter in a rage, when he took up the volumes of manuscript which lay by, containing his History of the World, and threw them on a large fire that was in the room, exclaiming, that "it was not for him to write the history of the world, if he could not relate what he saw a quarter of an hour before." One of his friends saved two of the volumes from the flames, but the rest were consum- ed. The world laments that so strange an accident should have mutilated the work of so extraor- dinary a man.- Granger's Won- derful Magazine. hastening into a mercer's shop, asked, rather impatiently, for change. You know what an ex- citable person he was, and how he fancied all business must give way till the change was supplied. The shopman thought otherwise ; the poet insisted; an altercation ensued; and in a minute or two the master jumped over the counter and collared him, telling us he would turn us both out; that he believed we came there to kick up a row for some dishonest purpose. So here was a pretty dilemma. We defied him, but said we would go out instantly, on his apologizing for his gross insult. All was up- roar. Campbell called out, " Thrash the fellow 1 thrash him 1 " " You will not go out, then ? " said the mercer. " No, never, till you apologize." " Well, we shall soon see. John, go to Vine street, and fetch the police." In a few minutes two police- men appeared; one went close up to Mr. Campbell, the other to my- self. The poet was now in such breathless indignation, that he could not articulate a sentence. I told the policemen the object he had in asking change ; and that the shopman had most unwarrant- ably insulted us. " This gentle- man," I added, by way of climax, " is Mr. Thomas Campbell, the distinguished poet, a man who would not hurt a fly, much less act with the dishonest intention that person has insinuated." The moment I uttered the name, the po- liceman backed away two or three paces, as if awe-struck, and said, THOS. CAMPBELL, THE LORD RECTOR. Southey tells the following story of the poet Campbell: Taking a walk with Campbell, one day, up Regent street, we were accosted by a wretched-look- ing woman, with a sick infant in her arms, and another starved little thing at her mother's side. The woman begged for a copper. I had no change, and Campbell had nothing but a sovereign. The woman stuck fast to the poet, as if she read his heart in his face, and I could feel his arm begin- ning to tremble. At length, say- ing something about it being his duty to assist the poor creatures, he told the woman to wait; and, 12 AUTHORS. " Guidness, mon, is that Maister Cammel, the Lord Rector o' Glas- gow ? " " Yes, my friend, he is, as this card may convince you," handing it to him; " all this commotion has been caused by a mistake." By this time the mercer had cooled down to a moderate tem- perature, and in the end made ev- ery reparation in his power, say- ing he was very busy at the time, and had he but known the gentle- man, " he would have changed fifty sovereigns for him." " My dear fellow," said the poet, who had recovered his speech, " I am not at all offended," and it was really laughable to see them shaking hands long and vigorous- ly, each with perfect sincerity and mutual forgiveness. upon and persisted in a very strict regimen, and thus stopped the progress, and prevented the ef- fects of that dreadful disease. His daily food was a small quan- tity of asses' milk and a flour bis- cuit : once a week he indulged himself with eating an apple: he used emetics daily. Mr. Pope and he were once friends; but they quarreled; and persecuted each other with virulent satire. Pope, knowing the abstemious regimen which Lord Hervey ob- served, was so ungenerous as to call him " a mere cheese-curd of asses' milk." Lord Hervey used paint to soften his ghastly appear- ance. Mr. Pope must have known this also, and therefore it was un- pardonable in him to introduce it into his celebrated portrait. That satirist had the art of laying hold on detached circumstances, and of applying them to his purpose, without much regard for historical accuracy. Thus to his hemistich, " Endow a college or a cat" he adds this note, that a Duchess of Richmond left annuities to her cats." The lady, as to whom he seems so uncertain, was La Belle Stuart of the Comte de Gram- mont. She left annuities to cer- tain female friends, with the bur- den of maintaining some of her cats ; a delicate way of providing for poor, and, probably, proud gen- tlewomen, without making them feel that they owed their liveli- hood to her mere liberality.- Lord Hailes. SARAH, DUCHESS-DOWAGER OF MARLBOROUGH. This favorite duchess, who, like the proud Duke of Espernon, lived to brave the successors in a court where she had domineered, wound up her capricious life with an apol- ogy for her conduct. The piece, though weakened by the prudence of those who were to correct it, though maimed by her grace's own corrections, and though great part of it is rather the annals of a wardrobe than of a reign, yet it has still curious anecdotes, and a few of those sallies of wit, which fourscore years of arrogance could not fail to produce in so fantastic an understanding.- Walpole's B. and N. Authors. FENELON. Lord Hervey, having felt some attacks of the epilepsy, entered LORD HERVEY AND POPE. Monsieur Fenelon, the author of and Archbishop of AUTHORS. 13 Cambray, used to say, that he loved his family better than him- self, his country better than his family, and mankind better than his country; for I am more a Frenchman, added he, than a Fen- elon, and more a man than a Frenchman.- Chevalier Ramsay. not have even deigned to have looked at them had I been at large."-CradocSs Literary Me- moirs DR. JOHN LEYDEN. His chief place of retirement was the small parish church, a gloomy and ancient building, gen- erally believed in the neighbor- hood to be haunted. To this chosen place of study, usually locked during week-days, Leyden made entrance by means of a win- dow, read there for many hours in the day, and deposited his books and specimens in a retired pew. It was a well-chosen spot of se- clusion, for the kirk (except during divine service) is rather a place of terror to the Scottish rustic, and that of Cavers was rendered more so by many a tale of ghosts and witchcraft, of which it was the supposed scene; and to which Leyden, partly to indulge his hu- mor, and partly to secure his re- tirement, contrived to make some modern additions. The nature of his abstruse studies, some speci- mens of natural history, as toads and adders, left exposed in their spirit-vials, and one or two prac- tical jests played off upon the more curious of the peasantry, rendered his gloomy haunt not only venerated by the wise, but feared by the simple of the parish.- Memoirs by Sir Walter Scott. bayle's dictionary. His Critical Dictionary is a vast repository of facts and opin- ions ; and he balances the false religions in his sceptical scales, till the opposite quantities (if I may use the language of algebra) an- nihilate each other. The wonder- ful power which he so boldly ex- ercised, of assembling doubts and objections, had tempted him jo- cosely to assume the title of the nephelagereta Zeus, the cloud-com- pelling Jove; and in a conversa- tion with the ingenious Abbe (af- terwards cardinal) de Polignac, he freely disclosed his universal Pyrrhonism. " I am most truly," said Bayle, " a Protestant; for I protest indifferently against all systems and all sects."-Gibbon. sterne's sermons. Mr. Sterne, it may be supposed, was no great favorite with Dr. Johnson; and a lady once ven- tured to ask the grave doctor how he liked Yorick's Sermons. "I know nothing about them, mad- am," was his reply. But some- time afterwards, forgetting him- self, he severely censured them ; and the lady very aptly retorted, " I understood you to say, sir, that you had never read them." " No, madam; I did read them, but it was in a stage coach. I should Was one of the few Scotsmen of whom Dr. Johnson entertained a favorable opinion. The sancti- ty of the character of Ogilvie, the religious tendency of his writings, DR. OGILVIE 14 AUTHORS. in some measure, abated the fierce antipathy with which the great English critic regarded the nation whose literary efforts have raised them to so high a rank in the in- tellectual history of mankind. It was to Dr. Ogilvie that the un- reasonable Johnson uttered the sarcasm relative to Scotch pros- pects. When in London, Ogilvie one day, in Johnson's company, ob- served, in speaking of grand scenery, that Scotland had a great many wild prospects. " Yes, sir," said Johnson, "I believe you have a great many. Norway, too, has noble wild prospects, and Lapland is remarkable fbr prodigious noble wild prospects. But, sir, let me tell you, the noblest prospect which a Scotsman ever sees is the high road that leads him to Lon- don." " I admit," rejoined Ogilvie, " that the last prospect is a very noble one, but I deny that it is as wild as any of those we have enu- merated."-Scotsman's Library. beauty, and evidently the model of Sir Joshua in his Christian vir- tues (a notion of mine which she afterwards confirmed). After a few minutes' chat, we entered on the purport of my visit, which was to examine Sir Joshua's pri- vate papers relating to the Acade- my dispute which produced his resignation. Mrs. Gwatkin rose to give orders ; her figure was fine and elastic, upright as a dart, with nothing of decrepitude; certain- ly extraordinary for a woman in her eighty-ninth year. . . . We had a delightful chat about Burke, Johnson, Goldsmith, Garrick, and Reynolds. She said she came to Sir Joshua quite a little girl, and at the first grand party Dr. John- son staid, as he always did, after all were gone ; and that she, being afraid of hurting her new frock, went up stairs, and put on another, and came down to sit with Dr. J. and Sir Joshua. Johnson thun- dered out at her, scolded her for her disrespect to him, in supposing he was not as worthy of her best frock as fine folks. He sent her crying to bed, and took a dislike to her ever after. She had a goldfinch, which she had left at home. Her brother and sister dropped water on it from a great height, for fun. The bird died from fright, and turned black. She told Goldsmith, who was writing his Animated Nature. Goldsmith begged her to get the facts, and he would allude to it. " Sir," roared out Johnson, " if you do, you'll ruin your work, for, depend upon it, it's a lie." She said that after Sir Joseph Banks and Dr. Solander came from their DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON URSA MAJOR. Oct. 13, 1845.-On the 7th I left town by express train to visit Mrs. Gwatkin at Plymouth, to ex- amine Sir Joshua's private memo- randum concerning the Academy quarrel. Mrs. Gwatkin was Miss Palmer, sister to the Marchioness of Thomond, and niece to Sir Joshua. . . At twelve I called. Mr. Reynolds Gwatkin came down and introduced me. I went up with him, and found on a sofa, leaning on pillows, a venerable aged lady, holding an ear-trumpet, like Sir Joshua, showing in her face great remains of regular AUTHORS. 15 voyage, at a grand dinner at Sir Joshua's, Solander was relating that in Iceland he had seen a fowl boiled in a few minutes in the hot springs. Johnson broke up the whole party by roaring out, " Sir, unless I saw it with my own eyes I would not believe it." Nobody spoke after, and Banks and So- lander rose and left the dining- room.-Taylor's Life of Haydon. ibly the agitation subsides, the chaos acquires form, and each cir- cumstance takes its proper place. Had I always waited till that'con- fusion was past and then painted, in their natural beauties, the objects that had presented them- selves, few authors would have surpassed me.- Confessions. I have been reading lately a most extraordinary work, which I did read once before, but had to- tally forgotten, The History of Benvenuto Cellini, a Florentine goldsmith and designer, translated from the Italian by Thomas Nu- gent. There is something in it so singularly characteristical, that it is impossible to reject the whole as fabulous, and yet it is equally im- possible not to reject a great part of it as such. To reconcile this I would suppose, what the work itself strongly evinces, that the author must have been an ingen- ious, hot-headed, vain, audacious man ; and that the violence of his passions, the strength of his super- stition, and the disasters into which he plunged himself, made him mad in the end. We know that the Italians of the sixteenth century were very ingenious in everything that relates to drawing and design- ing; but it cannot be believed that popes, emperors, and kings were so totally engrossed with those matters as Signior Cellini repre- sents them. If you have never seen the book, I would recommend it as a curiosity, from which I promise that you will receive amusement. Nay, in regard to BENVENUTO CELLINI. When obliged to exert myself I am ignorant what to do! when forced to speak I am at a loss for words; and if any one looks at me I am instantly out of counte- nance. If animated with my sub- ject I express my thoughts with ease, but in ordinary conversations I can say nothing-absolutely nothing; and, being obliged to speak, renders them insupportable. . . The timidity common to my age was heightened by a natural benevolence,which made medread the idea of giving pain. Though my mind had received some culti- vation, having seen nothing of the world, I was an absolute stranger to polite address, and my mental acquisitions, so far from supplying this defect, served to increase my embarrassment by making me sen- sible of every deficiency. When I write, my ideas are arranged with the utmost difficul- ty. They glance on my imag- ination, and ferment till they discompose, heat and bring on a palpitation : during this state of agitation I see nothing properly, cannot write a single word, and must wait till it is over. Insens- J. J. ROUSSEAU. 16 AUTHORS. the manner of those times, there is even some instruction in it.- Dr. Beattie. Wordsworth and I crossed the park, we said, ' Scott, Wilkie, Keats, Hazlitt, Beaumont, Jack- son, Charles Lamb are all gone -we only are left.' He said, ' How old are you ?' 'Fifty-six,' I replied. ' How old are you ?' ' Seventy-three,' he said ; ' in my seventy-third year. I was born in 1770.' 'And I in 1786.' 'You have many years before you.' ' I trust I have; and you, too, I hope. Let us cut out Titian, who was ninety-nine.' ' Was he ninety- nine ?' said Wordsworth. ' Yes,' said I, ' and his death was a mor- al ; for as he lay dying of the plague, he was plundered, and could not help himself.' We got on Wakley's abuse. We laughed at him. I quoted his own beautiful address to the stock- dove. He said, once in a wood Mrs. Wordsworth and a lady were walking, when the stock-dove was cooing. A farmer's wife coming by said to herself, ' Oh, I do like stock-doves.' Mrs. Wordsworth, in all her enthusiasm for Words- worth's poetry, took the old woman to her heart. ' But,' continued the old woman, ' some like them in a pie; for my part, there's nothing like 'em stewed in onions.'"- Haydon's Diary. WORDSWORTH AND HAYDON THE PAINTER. "May 22.-Wordsworth called to-day, and we went to church to- gether. There was no seat to be got at the chapel near us, belong- ing to the rectory of Paddington, and we sat among publicans and sinners. I determined to try him, so advised our staying, as we could hear more easily. He agreed like a Christian; and I was much interested in seeing his venerable white head close to a servant in livery, and on the same level. The servant in livery fell asleep, and so did Wordsworth. I jogged him at the Gospel, and he opened his eyes and read well. A preacher preached when we ex- pected another, so it was a disap- pointment. We afterwards walked to Rogers's, across the park. He had a party to lunch, so I went into the pictures, and sucked Rem- brandt, Reynolds, Veronese. Raf- fael, Bassan, and Tintoretto. Wordsworth said, ' Haydon is down stairs.' ' Ah,' said Rogers, ' he is better employed than chat- tering nonsense up stairs.' As HONORS AND REWARDS. LITERARY RESIDENCES. villa or chateau of their own. It has not therefore often happened, that a man of genius could raise local emotions by his own intel- lectual suggestions. Ariosto, who built a palace in his verse, lodged himself in a small house, and found that stanzas and stones were not Men of genius have usually been condemned to compose their finest works, which are usually their ear- liest, under the roof of a garret; and few literary characters have lived, like Pliny and Voltaire, in a AUTHORS, 17 put together at the same rate: old Montaigne has left a description of his library-"over the entrance of my house where I view my court-yards and garden, and at once survey all the operations of my family." A literary friend, whom a hint of mine had induced to visit the old tower in the gar- den of Buffon, where that sage retired every morning to compose, passed so long a time in that lone- ly apartment, as to have raised some solicitude among the honest folks of Montbar, who having seen " the Englishman " enter, but not return, during a heavy thunder- storm which had occurred in the interval, informed the good mayor, who came in due form to notify the ambiguous state of the strang- er. My friend is, as is well known, a genius of that cast who could pass two hours in the Tow- er of Buffon, without being aware that he had been all that time oc- cupied by suggestions of ideas and reveries, which such a locality may excite in some minds. He ■was also busied by his hand; for he has favored me with two draw- ings of the interior and the exte- rior of this old tower in the gar- den ; the nakedness within can only be compared to the solitude without. Such was the studying room of Buffon, where his eye, resting on no object, nevei* inter- rupted the unity of his meditations on nature. Pope, who had far more enthusiasm in his poetical disposition than is generally un- derstood, was extremely suscept- ible of those literary associations with localities: one of the vol- umes of his Homer was begun and finished in an old tower over the chapel at Stanton Harcourt; and he has perpetuated the event, if not consecrated the place, by scratching with a diamond on a pane of stained glass this inscrip- tion : In the year 1718, Alexander Pope Finished herb The fifth volume of Homer. It was the same feeling which in- duced him one day, when taking his usual walk with Harte in the Haymarket, to desire Harte to en- ter a little shop, where going up three pair of stairs into a small room, Pope said, " In this garret Addison wrote his Campaign!" Nothing less than a strong feeling impelled the poet to ascend this garret-it was a consecrated spot to his eye; and certainly a curious instance of the power of genius contrasted with its miserable lo- cality ! Addison, whose mind had fought through G a campaign " in a garret, could he have called about him " the pleasures of imagina- tion," had probably planned a house of literary repose, where all parts would have been in har- mony with his mind. Such resi- dences of men of genius have been enjoyed by some ; and the vivid descriptions which they have left us, convey something of the de- lightfulness which charmed their studious repose.-D'Israeli's Cu- riosities. GIBBON AND LORD NORTH. Mr. Gibbon, in the general pre- face to the last three volumes of his history, has the following pas- sage, which we consider worthy of notice, not less on account of its 18 AUTHORS. elegance, than for the striking con- trast it exhibits between Mr. Gib- bon's original enmity of spirit to Lord North, and his subsequent expressions of friendship for that nobleman: " Were I ambitious of any other patron than the public, (says Mr. Gibbon) I would inscribe this work to a statesman, who, in a long, a stormy, and at length an unfortunate administration, had many political opponents, almost without a personal enemy; who has retained, in his fall from power, many faithful and disinterested friends; and who, under the press- ure of severe infirmity, enjoys the lively vigor of his mind, and the fe- licity of his incomparable temper. Lord North will permit me to ex- press the feelings of friendship in the language of truth; but even truth and friendship should be silent, if he still dispensed the fa- vors of the crown." For the sake of contrast, one anecdote may be added. In June, 1781, Mr. Fox's library came to be sold. Amongst his other books, the first volume of Mr. Gibbon's history was brought to the hammer. In the blank leaf of this was a note, in the hand- writing of Mr. Fox, stating a re- markable declaration of our his- torian at a well-known tavern in Pall-Mall, and contrasting it with Mr. Gibbon's political conduct afterwards. "The author (it ob- served) at Brookes's said, That there was no salvation for this country, until six heads of the prin- cipal persons in administration (Lord North being then prime minister) were laid upon the table. Yet (as the observation added) eleven days afterwards, this same gentleman accepted a place of a lord of trade under those very ministers, and has acted with them ever since." This extraordinary anecdote, thus recorded, very nat- urally excited the attention of the purchasers. Numbers wished to have in their own possession such an honorable testimony from Mr. Fox in favor of Mr. Gibbon. The contention for it rose to a considerable height, and the vol- ume, by the aid of this manuscript addition to it, was sold for three guineas.-English Review, 1788. A MENDICANT AUTHOR. Even in the reign of the litera- ry James, great authors were re- duced to a state of mendicity, and lived on alms, although their lives and their fortunes had been con- sumed in forming national labors. The antiquary Stowe exhibits a striking example of the reward conferred on such valued authors. Stowe had devoted his life, and exhausted his patrimony, in the study of English antiquities ; he had traveled on foot throughout the kingdom, inspecting all mon- uments of antiquity, and rescuing what he could from the dispersed libraries of the monasteries. His stupendous collections, in his own handwriting, still exist, to provoke the feeble industry of literary loit- erers. It was in his eightieth year that Stowe at length received a public acknowledgment of his services which will appear to us of a very extraordinary nature. He was so reduced in his circum- stances that he petitioned James I for a license to collect alms for himself! "as a recompense for his AUTHORS. 19 labor and travel of forty-jive • years in setting forth the chron- icles of England, and eight years taken up in the survey of the cities of London and Westminster, to- wards his relief now in his old age; having left his former means of living, and only employing him- self for the service and good of his country." Letters patent un- der the great seal were granted. After no penurious commendation of Stowe's labors, he is permitted "to gather the benevolence of well-disposed people within this realm of England: to ask, gather, and take the alms of all our loving subjects." These letters patent were to be published by the cler- gy from their pulpits; they pro- duced so little that they were re- newed for another twelvemonth; one entire parish in the city gave seven shillings and sixpence ! Such then was the patronage re- ceived by Stowe, to be a licensed beggar throughout the kingdom for one twelvemonth I Such was the public remuneration of a man who had been useful to his na- tion, but not to himself.-D'Is- raeli. bearing with idle bellies, special vagabonds, bards, idle and sturdy beggars, express contrare the laws and laudable acts of parliament; for the remedy whereof it is like- wise enacted, by common consent, that no vagabond, bard, nor pro- fest pleasant (fool by profession), pretending liberty to bard and flatter, be received within the bounds of the said isles, by any of said special barons and gentle- men, or any other inhabitants thereof, or entertained by them, or any of them in any sort; but in case any vagabond, bard, jug- gler, or such like, be apprehended by them, or any of them, he is to be taken and put in sure sieze- ment and keeping in the stocks, and thereafter to be debarred forth of the country with all good- ly expedition." - Scotsman's Li- brary. dibdin's poems. I have not the smallest preten- sions to the " rhyming art," al- though in former times I did ven- ture to dabble with it. About twelve years ago I wras rash enough to publish a small volume of poems, with my name affixed. They were the productions of my juvenile years; and I need hardly say, at this period, how ashamed I am of their authorship. The Monthly and Analytical Reviews did me the kindness of just toler- ating them, and of warning me not to commit any future trespass upon the premises of Parnassus. I struck off 500 copies, and was glad to get rid of half of them as waste paper; the remaining half has been partly destroyed by HONOR TO THE BARDS. At a court held at Icolmkill, August 23, 1609, by Andrew, Bishop of the Isles, at which most of the gentry of the neighboring isles were present, amongst other good resolutions for reformation is the following: " The which day it being con- sidered, that amongst the reman- ent of abuses which, without refor- mation, has defiled the whole isles, has been the entertainment and 20 AUTHORS. my own hands, and has partly mouldered away in oblivion amidst the dust of booksellers' shelves. My only consolation is, that the volume is exceedingly rare!-Rev. T. F. Dibdin. to the great astonishment of poor Denon, who could not make head, or tail of what she meant. At last, upon her saying "Eh puis, ce cher Vendredi 1" he perceived she took him for no less a person than Robinson Crusoe.-Moore. DENON AND MADAME TALLEY- RAND. DR. YOUNG. It is told of Madame Talley- rand, that one day her husband having told her that Denon, the French savan, was coming to din- ner, bid her read a little of his book on Egypt, just published, in order that she might be enabled to say something civil to him upon it, adding that he would leave the volume for her on his study-table. He forgot this, however, and mad- ame, upon going into the study, found a volume of Robinson Cru- soe on the table instead, which having read very attentively, she was not long in opening upon De- non after dinner about the desert island, his manner of living, etc., When Dr. Young was deeply engaged in writing one of his trag- edies, the Duke of Wharton, who had presented him with £2000 on the publication of his Universal Passion, made him a gift of a dif- ferent kind. He procured a hu- man skull, and fixed a candle in it, and gave it to the doctor as the most proper lamp for him to write tragedy by.-Rawlinson. "The Beauties of Johnson " are said to have got money to the col- lector; if the "Deformities" have the same success, I shall be still a more extensive benefactor.-Dr. Johnson. JOHNSON AND HIS BEAUTIES. TRIALS AND MISERIES. OLIVER GOLDSMITH. MILTON. Of poor, dear Dr. Goldsmith, there is little to be told more than the papers have made public. He died of a fever, made, I am afraid, more violent by uneasiness of mind. His debts began to be heavy, and all his resources were exhausted. He had raised money and squan- dered it by every acquisition and folly of expense. Sir Joshua [Reynolds J is of opinion, that he owed not less than two thousand pounds. Was ever poet so trust- ed before?-Dr. Johnson. After Milton was driven from all public stations, he was still too great not to be traced by curiosity to his retirement, where he has been found by Mr. Richardson, the fondest of his admirers, sitting before his door in a grey coat of coarse cloth, ia warm, sultry weather, to enjoy the fresh air; and so, as in his own room, receiv- ing the visits of a few of distin- guished parts as well as quality. According to another account, he was seen in a small house, neatly AUTHORS. 21 enough dressed in black clothes, sitting in a room hung with rusty green; pale, but not cadaverous, with chalk-stones in his hand. He said that, if it were not for the gout, his blindness would be tolerable. In the intervals of his pain, being made unable to use the common exercises, he used to swing in a chair, and sometimes played upon an organ. He was at this time employed upon his Paradise Lost. His domestic hab- its, so far as they are known, were those of a severe student. He drank little strong drink of any kind, and fed without excess in quantity, and in his earlier years, without delicacy of choice. In his youth, he studied late at night; but afterwards changed his hours, and rested in bed from nine to four in the summer, and five in the winter. The course of his day was best known after he was blind. When he first rose, he heard a chapter in the Hebrew Bible, and then studied till twelve ; then took some exercise for an hour; then dined, then played on the organ, and sang, or heard another sing; then studied to six; then entertained his visitors till eight; then supped, and after a pipe of tobacco and a glass of water, went to bed. Milton has the reputation of having been in his youth eminently beautiful, so as to have been called the lady of his college. His hair, which was of a light brown, parted at the fore-top, and hung down upon his shoulders, according to the pic- ture which he has given of Adam. He was, however, not of the he- roic stature, but rather below the middle size, though both vigorous and active. His eyes, which are said never to have been good, were much weakened by study, and are believed to have been of little service to him after writing his Defense of the People, in an- swer to the Defensio Regis of Salmasius; and as Salmasius re- proached Milton with losing his eyes in this quarrel, Milton de- lighted himself with the belief that he had shortened Salmasius's life ; but both, perhaps, with more malignity than reason. Salmasi- us, however, died at the Spa about two years after; and as contro- versists are commonly said to be killed by their last dispute, Milton was flattered with the credit of destroying him.-Johnson's Lives. DEATH OF OTWAY. Otway died in his thirty-third year, in a manner which I am un- willing to mention. Having been compelled by his necessities to con- tract debts, and hunted, as is sup- posed, by the terriers of the law, he retired to a public house on Tower Hill, where he is said to have died of want; or, as it is re- lated by one of his biographers, by swallowing, after a long fast, a piece of bread which charity had supplied. He went out, as is re- ported, almost naked, in the rage of hunger, and, finding a gentle- man in a neighboring coffee-house, asked him for a shilling. The gentleman gave him a guinea; and Otway going away, bought a roll, and was choked with the first mouthful. All this, I hope, is not true; and there is ground of better hope that Pope, wTho lived near 22 AUTHORS enough to be well informed, re- lates, in Spence's Memorials, that he died of a fever, caught by vio- lent pursuit of a thief that had robbed him of his funds. But that indigence, and its concomit- ants, sorrow and despondency, pressed hard upon him, has never been denied, whatever immediate cause might bring him to the grave.-Johnson's Inves. nation. He mentions many hair- breadth escapes, which, by " his own prudence and God's provi- dence," he effected; and it is not wonderful, that where almost the whole nation was decidedly averse to the Union, a character like De Foe, sent thither to promote it by all means, direct and indirect, should be regarded with dislike, and even exposed to the danger of assassination. The act for the Union was passed by the Scotch Parliament in January, and De Foe returned to London in Feb- ruary, 1707, to write a history of that great international treaty. It is believed that his services were rewarded by a pension from Queen Anne.-Memoirs by Mr. John Bal- lantyne. burton's anatomy of melan- choly. The first edition of this book was published in 1621, in 4to. The author is said to have com- posed it with a view of relieving, his own melancholy, but increased it to such a degree, that nothing could make him laugh, but going to the bridge-foot and hearing the ribaldry of the bargemen, which rarely failed to throw him into a violent fit of laughter. Before he was overcome with this horrid disorder, he in the intervals of his vapors, was esteemed one of the most facetious companions in the university, [Christ's Church Col- lege, where he died at or very near the time he had some years before foretold, from the calcula- tion of his own nativity, and which, says Wood, being exact, several of the students did not for- bear to whisper among themselves, that rather than there should be a mistake in the calculation, he sent up his soul to heaven through a slip about his neck].- Granger. MATTHEW BRAMBLE. About twenty years ago, the town was amused almost every morning by a series of humorous burlesque poems by a writer un- der the assumed name of Matthew Bramble-he was at that very moment one of the most moving spectacles of human melancholy I have ever witnessed. It was one evening I saw a tall, famished, melancholy man enter a booksel- ler's shop, his hat flapped over his eyes, and his whole frame evident- ly feeble from exhaustion and ut- ter misery. The bookseller in- quired how he proceeded in his new tragedy ? " Do not talk to me about my tragedy 1 Do not talk to me about my tragedy! I have in- deed more tragedy than I can bear at home!" was the reply, as the voice faltered as he spoke. This man was Matthew Bramble, or DE FOE AND TlfE UNION. He appears to have been no great favorite in Scotland, al- though, while there, he published Caledonia, a poem in honor of the AUTHORS. 23 rather McDonald, the author of the tragedy of Vimonda, at that moment the writer of comic poet- ry ; his tragedy was indeed a do- mestic one, in which he himself was the greatest actor among a ■wife and seven children-he short- ly afterwards perished. I heard at the time, that McDonald had walked from Scotland with no other fortune than the novel of The Independent in one pocket, and the tragedy of Vimonda in the other. Yet he lived some time in all the bloom and flush of poetical confidence. Vimonda was even performed several nights, but not with the success the ro- mantic poet, among his native rocks, had conceived was to crown his anxious labors-the theatre dis- appointed him-and afterwards, to his feelings, all the world.- DIsraeli's Calamities of Authors. the national song, God save the King, he was the author, both of the words and the music. He was very successful on the stage, and wrote admirable burlesques of the Italian opera, in The Dragon of Wantley, and The Dragoness ; and the mock tragedy of Chrononho- tonthologos is not forgotten. Among his poems lie still con- cealed several original pieces; those which have a political turn are particularly good, for the poli- tics of Carey were those of a poet and a patriot. Yet poor Carey, the delight of the Muses, and delighting with the Muses, experienced all their trials and all their treacheries. At the time that this poet could neither walk the streets, nor be seated at the convivial board, without listening to his own songs and his own mu- sic-for in truth, the whole nation was echoing his verse, and crowd- ed theatres were clapping to his wit and honor-while this very man himself, urged by his strong humanity, had founded a " Fund for decayed musicians "-at this moment was poor Carey himself so broken-hearted, and his own common comforts so utterly neg- lected, that, in despair, not waiting for nature to relieve him from the burthen of existence, he laid vio- lent hands on himself; and when found dead, had only a half-penny in his pocket 1 Such was the fate of the author of some of the most popular pieces in our language! He left a son who inherited his misery and a gleam of his genius. -D Israeli's Calamities. HENRY CAREY NAMBY-PAMBY. Henry Carey was a true son of the Muses. He is the author of several little national poems. In early life he successfully bur- lesqued the affected versification of Ambrose Phillips, in his baby poems; to which he gave the for- tunate appellation of "Namby- Pamby, a panegyric on the new versification;" a term descriptive in sound of these chiming follies, and now adopted in the style of criticism. Carey's Namby-Pamby was at first considered by Swift as the satirical effusion of Pope, and by Pope as the humorous ridicule of Swift. His ballad of Sally in our Alley was more than once commended for its nature by Ad- dison, and is sung to this day. Of Was one of those Scotch stu- JOHN MACDIARMID 24 AUTHORS. dents whom the golden fame of Hume and Robertson attracted to the metropolis. He mounted the first step of literary adventure with credit; and passed through the probation of editor and re- viewer, till he strove for more he- roic adventures. He published some volumes, whose subjects dis- play the aspirings of his genius : "An inquiry into the nature of civil and military subordination;" another into "the system of mili- tary defense." It was during these labors I beheld this inquirer, of a tender frame, emaciated, and study-worn, with hollow eyes, where the mind dimly shone like a lamp in a tomb. With keen ardor he opened a new plan of biographical politics. When, by one who wished the author and his style were in better condition, the dangers of excess of study were brought to his recollection- he smiled, and, with something of a mysterious air, talked of unal- terable confidence in the powers of his mind-of the indefinite im- provement in our faculties; and, although his frame was not ath- letic, he considered himself ca- pable of trying it to the extremity -his whole life indeed was one melancholy trial-often the day cheerfully passed without its meal, but never without its page. The new system of political biography was advancing, when our young author felt a paralytic stroke. He afterwards resumed his pen, and a second one proved fatal. He lived just to pass through the press his Lives of British States- men, a splendid quarto, whose publication he owed to the gener- ous temper of a friend, who when the author could not readily pro- cure a publisher, would not see even the dying author's last hopes disappointed. Some research and reflection are combined in this lit- erary and civil history of the six- teenth and seventeenth centuries -but it was written with the blood of the author, for Macdiar- mid died of over-study.-D'Is- raeli's Calamities. Of most authors by profession, who has displayed a more fruit- ful genius, and exercised more in- tense industry, with a loftier sense of his independence, than Smol- lett? But look into his life and enter into his feelings, and you will be shocked at the disparity of his situation with the genius of the man. His life was a succes- sion of struggles, vexation and disappointments, yet of success in his writings. Smollett, who is a great poet though he has written little in verse, and whose rich genius had composed the most original pictures of human life, was compelled by his wants to de- base his name by selling it to voy- ages and translations, which he never could have read. When he had worn himself down in the service of the public or the book- sellers, there remained not, of all his slender remunerations, in the last stage of life, sufficient to con- vey him to a cheap country and a restorative air on the Continent. Smollett gradually perishing in a foreign land, neglected by an ad- miring public, and without fresh resources from the booksellers, TOBIAS SMOLLETT. AUTHORS. 25 who were receiving the income of his works-threw out his injured feelings in the character of Bram- ble; the warm generosity of his temper, but not his genius, seemed fleeting with his breath. Yet when Smollett died, and his widow in a foreign land was raising a plain monument over his dust, her love and her piety but "made the little less." She perished in friend- less solitude ! Yet Smollett dead -soon an ornamented column it raised at the place of his birth, while the grave of the author seemed to multiply the editions of his works. There are indeed grateful feelings in the public at large for a favorite author; but the awful testimony of those feel- ings by its gradual progress, must appear beyond the grave! They visit the column consecrated by his name, and his features are most loved, most venerated, in the bust.-D'Israeli's Calamities. as an ingenious effort in a foreign- er, but could not obtain even individual patronage. The fact is mortifying to record, that the author, who wanted every aid, received less encouragement than if he had solicited subscriptions for a raving novel, or an idle poem. De Lolme was compelled to traffic with booksellers for this work; and, as he was a theoretical rather than a practical politician, he was a bad trader, and acquired the smallest remuneration. He lived, in the country to which he had rendered a national service, in extreme obscurity and decay; and the walls of the Fleet too often inclosed the English Montesquieu. He never appears to have received a solitary attention (except from the hand of literary charity, hav- ing been more than once relieved by the Literary Fund), and be- came so disgusted with authorship, that he preferred silently to endure its poverty, rather than its other vexations. He ceased almost to write. Of De Lolme I have heard little recorded, but his high- mindedness ; a strong sense that he stood degraded beneath that rank in society which his book entitled him to enjoy. The cloud of poverty that covered him, only veiled without concealing its ob- ject; with the manners and dress of a decayed gentleman, he still showed the few who met him, that he cherished a spirit perpetu- ally at variance with the adversity of his circumstances.-D'Israeli. DE LOLME. I do not know an example in our literary history that so loudly accuses our tardy and phlegmatic feeling respecting authors, as the treatment De Lolme experienced in this country. His book on our constitution still enters into the studies of an English patriot, and is not the worse for flattering and elevating the imagination, painting everything beautiful, to encourage our love as well as our reverence for the most perfect system of go- vernments. It was a noble as well 26 AUTHORS. LEARNING AND LABORS. pointed out and commented upon, without due consideration of how exceedingly they were counterbal- anced by the most extraordinary and most valuable endowments. Of what importance is it, that when he shaved himself he would walk up and down his room, con- versing with whomsoever might happen to be present; that he knew the precise number of steps from his apartment to the houses of those of his friends with whom he was the most intimate, which, by the way, in the metropolis, must have been strongly indicative of a mind not easily made to swerve from its purpose; that at one period he was remarkably fond of the theatre, and all at once, as it were,ceased to frequent it? The circumstance most re- markable concerning his habits and propensities is, that he latterly became a hoarder of money, and, when he died, had not less than two thousand pounds in the funds. All these, however, are minor subjects of reflection. In him criticism lost the most able, most expert, most accomplished support of her sceptre ; learning one of its greatest ornaments. His knowl- edge was far more extensive than was generally understood or ima- gined, or believed. There are very few languages with which he had not some acquaintance. His discernment and acuteness in correcting what was corrupt, and explaining what was difficult and perplexed, were almost intuitive ; and, in addition to all this, his Person by no means excelled in conversation; he neither wrote nor spoke with facility. His elo- cution was perplexed and embar- rassed, except where he was ex- ceedingly intimate, but there was strong indication of intellect in his countenance, and whatever he said was manifestly founded on judg- ment, sense, and knowledge.- Composition was no less difficult to him. Upon one occasion he undertook to write a dozen lines upon a subject which he had much turned in his mind, and with which he was exceedingly familiar. But the number of erasures and interlineations was so great as to render it hardly legible; yet, when completed, it was, and is, a me- morial of his sagacity, acuteness, and erudition. It is sufficiently notorious that our friend was not remarkably attentive to the decoration of his person; indeed, he was at times disagreeably negligent. On one occasion he went to visit a learned friend, afterwards a judge, where a gentleman, who did not know Person, was waiting in anxious and impatient expectation of the barber. On Person's entering the library, where the gentleman was sitting, he started up and hastily said to Person, " Are you the barber?" " No, sir," replied Person, "but I am a cunning shaver, much at your service." His peculiarities and failings have been by some too harshly PROFESSOR PORSON. AUTHORS. 27 taste was elegant and correct. His recitations and repetitions were, it must be confessed, sometimes te- dious and irksome, which would not, however, have been the case unless they had been too often heard before, for he never repeat- ed anything that was not charac- terized by excellence of some kind or other.-Beloe's Sexagenarian. was published in 1801, by Dr. Leyden. As the tract was itself of a diffuse and comprehensive nature, touching upon many un- connected topics, both of public policy and private life, as well as treating of the learning, the po- etry, the music, and the arts of that early period, it gave Leyden an opportunity of pouring forth such a profusion of antiquarian knowledge in the preliminary dis- sertation, notes, and glossary, as one would have thought could hardly have been accumulated during so short a life, dedicated, too, to so many and varied studies. The intimate acquaintance which he has displayed with Scottish antiquities of every kind, from manuscript histories and rare chronicles down to the tradition of the peasant, and the rhymes even of the nursery, evince an extent of research, power of ar- rangement, and facility of recol- lection, which have never been equaled in this department. This singular work was the means of introducing Leyden to the notice and correspondence of Mr. Ritson, the celebrated antiquary, who, in a journey to Scotland, in the next summer, found nothing which de- lighted him so much as the con- versation of the editor of the Complaynt of Scotland, in whose favor he smoothed down and softened the natural asperity of his own disposition. The friend- ship, however, between these two authors was broken off by Ley- den's running his Border hobby- horse a full tilt against the Py- thagorean palfrey of the English antiquary. Ritson, it must be gibbon's roman empire. It was at Rome, on the 15 th of October, 1764, as I sat musing amidst the ruins of the capitol, while the bare-footed friars were singing vespers in the temple of Jupiter, that the idea of writing the Decline and Fall of the city first started to my mind. But my original plan was circumscribed to the decay of the city rather than of the empire: and, though my reading and reflections began to point towards that object, some years elapsed, and several avoca- tions intervened, before I was seriously engaged in the execution of that laborious work.- Gibbon. buchanan's Scotland. If Buchanan's history had been written on a subject far enough back, all the world might have mistaken it for a piece writ in the Augustan age ! It is not only his ■words that arc so pure, but his entire manner of writing is of that age.-Dean Lockier. LEYDEN " COMPLAYNT OF SCOTLAND." A new edition of an ancient and singularly rare tract, bearing this title, written by an uncertain author, about the year 1548, 28 AUTHORS. well remembered, had written a work against the use of animal food ; Leyden, on the other hand, maintained it was a part of a masculine character to eat what- ever came to hand, whether the substance was vegetable or animal, cooked or uncooked ; and he con- cluded a tirade to this purpose, by eating a raw beef-steak before the terrified antiquary, who never afterwards could be prevailed upon to regard him, except as a kind of learned ogre.-Memoirs by Sir Walter Scott. feel whose constant and necessary occupation is the instruction of youth. To the character of a pro- found scholar, though the printed testimonies he has afforded us may have been slender, none shall dare to dispute his claim; and were our remaining possessions of Greek and Latin authors to share the fate of the celebrated Alexandrian Library, we believe that this gigantic proficient could afford us, from recollection, a very tolerable idea of Grecian and Ro- man literature. Of the English style of Dr. Parr it has been said that it unites the strength of John- son with the richness of Burke.- Literary Memoirs, 1798. dante's comedia. Dante wrote before we began at all to be refined; and, of course, his celebrated poem is a sort of Gothic work. He is very sin- gular and very beautiful in his similes, and more like Homer than any of our poets since. He was prodigiously learned for the time he lived in, and knew all that a man could then know. His poem got the name of Comedia after his death. He, in that piece, had called Virgil's works tragedies (or sublime poetry), and, in defer- ence to him, called his own com- edy (or low); and hence was that word used afterward by mistake, for the title of his poem.-Fico- roni. Ainsworth's dictionary. When Mr. Ainsworth was en- gaged in the laborious work of his Dictionary of the Latin language, his wife made heavy complaints at enjoying so little of his society. When he had reached the letter S of his work, the patience of his help-meet was completely exhaus- ted ; and, in a fit of ill-nature, she revenged herself for the loss of his company by committing the whole manuscript to the flames! Such an accident would have de- terred most men from prosecuting the undertaking; but the perse- vering industry of Ainsworth re- paired the loss of his manuscript by the most assiduous application. DR. SAMUEL PARR. It may very reasonably be questioned whether the services which Dr. Parr has done to the world have been adequate to his ability or his knowledge. Much is to be allowed, however, for that want of leisure and opportunity which every man of letters must LADY M. WORTLEY MONTAGU. When I was young I was a vast admirer of Ovid's Metamor- phoses, and that was one of the chief reasons that set me upon the thoughts of stealing the Latin lan- AUTHORS. 29 guage. Mr. Wortley was the only person to whom I communicated my design; and he encouraged me in it. I used to study five or six hours a day for two years, in my father's library, and so got that language, whilst everybody thought I was reading nothing but novels and romances.-Lady Mary Wortley Montagu. WIT AND HUMOR. Hitherto (observes Campbell's bi- ographer) the two neighbors had pursued very distinct callings; but, to their utter surprise, a sudden co-partnership had been struck during the night, and Fife and Drum were now united in the same martial line. A great sen- sation was produced in the morn- ing, when, of course, the new co- partnery was suddenly dissolved. Campbell was, after some inquiry, found to have been the sign- painter, and threatened with pains and penalties, which were, how- ever, commuted into a severe reprimand, suggesting to the poet the -words of Parolles: "I'll no more drumming: a plague of all Drums." THOMAS CAMPBELL. UNIVER- SITY SPREE. A respectable apothecary named Fife had a shop in the Trongate of Glasgow (when Campbell, at the age of seventeen, was attend- ing the University of that city in 1795), with this notice in his window, printed in large letters, "Ears pierced by A. Fife;" mean- ing the operation to which young ladies submit for the sake of wear- ing ear-rings. Mr. Fife's next door neighbor was a citizen of the name of 'Drum, a spirit-dealer, whose windows exhibited various samples of the liquors which he sold. The worthy shopkeepers having become alienated by jeal- ousy in trade, Thomas Campbell and two trusty college chums fell upon the following expedient for reconciling them. During the darkness of night, long before the streets of Glasgow were lighted with gas, Campbell and his two associates having procured a long fir-deal, had it extended from window to window of the two contiguous shops, with this in- scription from Othello, which it fell to the youthful poet, as his share of the practical joke, to paint in flaming capitals: " THE SPIRIT-STIRRING DRUM, THE EAR- PIERCING FIFE." SHERIDAN AND RICHARDSON. Lord John Russel told us a good trick of Sheridan's upon Richardson. Sheridan had been driving out three or four hours in a hackney coach, when, seeing Richardson pass, he hailed him and made him get in. He instant- ly contrived to introduce a topic upon which Richardson (who was the very soul of disputatiousness) always differed with him; and at last, affecting to be mortified at Richardson's arguments, said, " You really are too bad, I cannot bear to listen to such things; I will 30 AUTHORS. not stay in the same coach with you." And accordingly got down and left him, Richardson hallooing out triumphantly, "Ah,you're beat, you're beat!" Nor was it till the heat of his victory had a little cooled, that he found out he was left in the lurch to pay for Sheri- dan's three hours' coaching.-Di- arg of Thomas Moore. the next time we met. "Very well," I said, " but you shan't get off again, either in a wagon or a cab." DR. BUCKLAND FORCE OF IM- AGINATION. This distinguished geologist one day gave a dinner, after dissect- ing a Mississippi alligator, having asked a good many of the most distinguished of his classes to dine with him. His house and all his establishment were in good style and taste. His guests congregat- ed; the dinner table showed splen- didly, with glass, china and plate, and the meal commenced with ex- cellent soup. " How do you like the soup ? " asked the Doctor, after having finished his own plate, address- ing a famous gourmand of the day. " Very good, indeed," answered the other. " Turtle, is it not ? I only ask because 1 do not find any green fat." The Doctoi* shook his head. " I think it has somewhat of a musky taste," said another; " not unpleasant, but peculiar." "All alligators have," replied Buckland ; " the cayman peculiar- ly so. The fellow whom I dis- sected this morning, and whom you have just been eating-" There was a general rout of the whole guests. Every one turned pale. Half a dozen started up from the table. Two or three of them ran out of the room and vomited; and only those who had stout stomachs remained to the close of an excellent enter- tainment. DUNS SCOTUS. This eminent theologian and scholar of the ninth century, known as the " subtle doctor," combined with his philosophic genius a cordial love of pleasant- ry. Charles the Bald, when seat- ed opposite to him at table, asked him archly, " What is the distance between a Scot and a sot ? " " The width of the table," was the ready answer, which drew a smile from the king. SYDNEY SMITH AND THOMAS CAMPBELL. I met Sydney Smith (wrote Campbell) the other day. " Camp- bell," he said, " we met last, two years ago, in Fleet street; and, as you may remember, we got into a violent argument, but -were sepa- rated by a wagon, and have never met since. Let us have out that argument now. Do you recollect the subject?" "No," I said, "I have clean forgotten the subject; but I remember that I was in the right, and that you were violent, and in the wrong!" I had scarcely uttered these words, when a vio- lent shower came on. I took ref- uge in a shop, and he in a cab. He parted with a proud threat that he would renew the argument AUTHORS. 31 " See what imagination is," said Buckland. " If I told them it was turtle, or terrapin, or bird's-nest soup - salt water amphibia or fresh, or the gluten of a fish from the maw of a sea-bird, they would have pronounced it excellent, and their digestion been none the worse. Such is prejudice." " But was it really an alligator?" asked a lady. " As good a calf's head as ever wore a coronet," answered Buck- land. mor. "We traveled," says he, "with one of those troublesome fellow-passengers in a stage coach, that is called a well-informed man. For twenty miles we discoursed about the properties of steam, probabilities of carriage by ditto, till all my science, and more than all, was exhausted, and I was thinking of escaping my torment by getting up on the outside, when getting into Bishop's Stortford, my gentleman, spying some farm- ing land, put an unlucky question to me-' What sort of a crop of turnips I thought we should have this year.' Emma's eyes turned to me to know what in the world I could have to say ; and she burst out into a violent fit of laughter, maugre her pale, serious cheeks, when, with the greatest gravity, I replied, that 1 it depended, I be- lieved, upon boiled legs of mut- ton.' " Shaw, having lent Sheridan near £500, used to dun him very considerably for it; and one day, when he had been rating S. about the debt, and insisting that he must be paid, the latter, having played off some of his plausible wheedling upon him, ended by saying that he was very much in want of £25 to pay the expenses of a journey he was about to take, and he knew Shaw would be good- natured enough to lend it to him. " 'Pon my word," says Shaw, " this is too bad ; after keeping me out of my money in so shame- ful a manner, you now have the face to ask me for more ; but it won't do; I must be paid my money, and it is most disgrace- ful," etc., etc. " My dear fellow," says Sheridan, " hear reason ; the sum you ask me for is a very con- siderable one ; whereas I only ask you for five-and-twenty pounds." SHERIDAN. DON QUIXOTE. We are here presented with an instance of that species of partial madness, which occurs not unfre- quently in real life. A worthy- man, in other respects of a sound judgment, has his head so turned by reading books of chivalry, that he sees nothing in nature but cas- tles and palaces, giants and en- chanters. Into these he trans- forms every thing he meets with ; and the author has very happily chosen the meanest objects of com- mon life for the subject of this metamorphosis. The striking con- trasts which are thus produced, the monstrous mistakes and ludi- crous distresses of the hero, are painted in so lively a manner as CAUSE AND EFFECT. Charles Lamb tells a story of a rencontre with a fellow-traveler, which illustrates his peculiar hu- 32 AUTHORS. to render this the most laughable performance perhaps that the wit of man ever produced.-Murray's Morality of Fiction. DECEPTIONS. DE FOE AND THE GHOST THAT MADE THE BOOK SELL. of middle aged ladies, and Mrs. Veal proses concerning the con- versations they had formerly held, and the books they had read to- gether. Her very recent expe- rience probably led Mrs. Veal to talk of death and the books written on the subject, and she pronounced, ex cathedra, as a dead person was best entitled to do, that " Drelincourt's book on death was the best book on the subject ever written." She also mentioned Dr. Sherlock, two Dutch books which had been translated, and several others; but Drelincourt, she said, had the clearest notions of death and the future state of any who had han- dled that subject. She then asked for the work, and lectured on it with great eloquence and affec- tion. Dr. Kendrick's Ascetick was also mentioned with approbation by this critical spectre (the Doc- tor's work was no doubt a tenant of the shelf in some favorite pub- lisher's shop), and Mr. Norris's poem on Friendship, a work which, I doubt, though honored with the ghost's approbation, we may now seek for as vainly as Corelli tormented his memory to recover the sonata which the devil played to him in a dream. The whole account is so distinctly cir- cumstantial, that, were it not for the impossibility, or extreme im- probability at least, of such an oc- currence, the evidence could not but support the story. An adventurous bookseller had ventured to print a considerable edition of Drelincourt's Book of Consolation against the Fears of Death, translated by M. D'As- signy. But, however certain the prospect of death, it is not so agreeable (unfortunately) as to invite the eager contemplation of the public, and the book, being neglected, lay a dead stock on the hands of the publisher. In this emergency he applied to De Foe to assist him in rescuing the un- fortunate book from the literary death to which general neglect seemed about to consign it. De Foe's genius and audacity devised a plan, which, for assurance and ingenuity, defied even the powers of Mr. Puff, in the Critic; for who but himself would have thought of summoning up a ghost from the grave to bear witness in favor of a halting body of divin- ity? There is a matter-of-fact, business like style in the whole account of the transaction, which bespeaks ineffable powers of self- possession. The apparition of Mrs. Veal is represented as ap- pearing to a Mrs. Bargrave, her intimate friend, as she sat in her own house in deep contemplation of certain distresses of her own. After the ghostly visitor had an- nounced herself as prepared for a distant journey, her friend and she began to talk in the homely style AUTHORS. 33 The effect was most wonderful. Drelincourt upon Death, attested by one who could speak from ex- perience, took an unequaled run. The copies had hung on the book- seller's hands as heavy as a pile of bullets. They now traversed the town in every direction, like the same balls discharged from a field- piece. In short, the object of Mrs. Veal's apparition was perfectly attained.-Scott's Memoir of De Foe. his son, and gave him a bank note of one hundred pounds, promis- ing him a similar present for ev- ery new edition 'which the book should pass through. It was well received, and therefore a second edition occasioned a second sup- ply. It is now in libraries, with the name, of Wortley Montagu prefixed as the author, although he did not write a line of it.- L. T. Rede's Anecdotes. London. 1799. EDWARD WORTLEY MONTAGU. dr. Johnson's sermons, etc. The papers in the Adventurer, signed with the letter T., are com- monly attributed to one of Mr. Johnson's earliest and most inti- mate friends, Mr. Bathurst the bookseller; but there is reason to believe they were written by John- son, and by him given to his friend. At that time Johnson was himself engaged in writing the Rambler, and could ill afford to make a pres- ent of his labors. The various other pieces he gave away have conferred fame, and probably for- tune, on several persons, to the great disgrace of some of his cler- ical friends; forty sermons, which he himself tells us he wrote, have not yet been deterr e.-L. T. Rede's Anecdotes. London. 1799.[Query: Are the sermons here alluded to those left for publication by John Taylor, LL. D., which have long been recognized as the genuine production of the learned lexicog- rapher ? J (See a letter of Dr. Beattie's, of date October 31. published in his life by Sir W. Forbes.) Mr. Foster had, in the early part of his life, been selected by old Edward Wortley Montagu (husband of the celebrated Lady Mary), to superintend the educa- tion of that very eccentric charac- ter, the late Edward Wortley Montagu. Young Montagu, af- ter thrice running away from his tutor, and being discovered by his father's valet crying flounders about the streets of Deptford, was sent to the West Indies, whither Foster accompanied him. On their return to England a good-natured stratagem was practiced to obtain a temporary supply of money from old Montagu, and, at the same time, to give him a favorable opin- ion of his son's attention to a par- ticular species of erudition. The stratagem was thus: Foster wrote a book which he entitled, The Rise and Fall of the Roman Re- publics. To this he subjoined the name of Edward Wortley Mon- tagu, jr., Esq. Old Wortley see- ing the book advertised, sent for 34 AUTHORS. TENDERNESS AND AFFECTION. for fifty-two years, and took the most boyish delight in recogniz- ing how the ' mould of antiquity had gathered upon their features,' and in recounting stories of his school-boy days. 'James,' said he to the oldest of the two, a tailor, now upwards of eighty, who in those days had astonished the children, and himself among the number, with displays of superior knowledge,'you were the first man that ever gave me something like a correct notion of the form of the earth. I knew that it was round, but I thought always that it was round like a shilling, till you told me that it was round like a mar- ble.' ' Well, John,' said he to the other, whose face, like his own, had suffered severely from small- pox in his childhood, 'you and I have had one advantage over folk with finer faces-theirs have been aye getting the waur, but ours have been aye getting the better o' the wear!' The dining-room of his grandfather's house had a fire-place fitted up behind with Dutch tiles, adorned with various quaint devices, upon which he had used to feast his eyes in boy- ish wonder and delight. These he now sought out most diligently, but was grieved to find them all so blackened and begrimed by the smoke of half a century, that not one of his old windmills or burgo- masters was visible. To one apartment he felt a peculiar tie, as having been appropriated ex- clusively to his use in his college days, when the love of solitary The simplicity and tenderness of Dr. Chalmers's character have never been better illustrated than in the details given in the follow- ing passage from the Memoir by Dr. Hanna: " In the spring of 1845, Dr. Chalmers visited his native vil- lage. It almost looked as if he came to take farewell, and as if that peculiarity of old age which sends it back to the days of child- hood for its last earthly reminis- cences, had for a time, and pre- maturely, taken hold of him. His special object seemed to be to revive the recollections of his boy- hood- gathering Johnny-Groats by the sea-beach of the Billow- ness, and lilacs from the ancient hedge, taking both away to be laid up in his repositories at Edin- burgh. Not a place or person fa- miliar to him in his earlier years was left unvisited. On his way to the churchyard, he went up the v ery road along which he had gone of old to the parish school. Slip- ping into a poor looking dwelling by the way, he said to his compan- ion, Dr. Williamson, 'I would just like to see the place where Lizzy Geen's water-bucket used to stand,' - the said water-bucket having been a favorite haunt of the over-heated ball-players, and Lizzy a great favorite for the free access she allowed to it. He called on two cotemporaries of his boyhood, one of whom he had not seen for forty-five, the other DR. CHALMERS. AUTHORS. 35 study was at times a passion. But the most interesting visit of all was to Barnsmuir, a place a few miles from Anstruther, on the way to Crail. In his school-boy days it had been occupied by Capt. R , whose eldest daughter rode in daily on a little pony to the school at Anstruther. Dr. Chalmers was then a boy of from twelve to fourteen years of age, but he was not too young for an attachment of a singularly tenac- ious hold. Miss R was mar- ried (I believe while he was yet at college) to Mr. F , and his op- portunities of seeing her in after life were few, but that early im- pression never faded from his heart. At the time of his visit to Anstruther in 1845, she had been dead for many years, but, at Dr. Chalmers's particular request, her younger sister met him at Barnsmuir. Having made the most affectionate inquiries about Mrs. F and her family, he inquired particularly about her death, receiving with deep emo- tion the intelligence that she had died in the full Christian hope, and that some of his own letters to her sister had served to soothe and comfort her latest hours. ' Mrs. W ,' said he eagerly, ' is there a portrait of your sister anywhere in this house ?' She took him to a room, and pointed to a profile which hung upon the wall. He planted himself before it-gazed on it with intense ear- nestness-took down the picture, took out his card, and, by two wa- fers fixed it firmly on the back of the portrait, exactly opposite to the face. Having replaced the likeness, he stood before it and burst into a flood of tears, accom- panied by the warmest expressions of attachment. After leaving the house, he sauntered in silence round the garden, buried in old recollections, heaving a sigh oc- casionally, and muttering to him- self- ' More than forty years ago!' " Jeffrey's playfulness and AFFECTION. The gentle and playful disposi- tion of the distinguished reviewer of the Edinburgh, is finely illus- trated in the following letter to his grandchild: " My sonsy Nancy!-I love you very much, and think very often of your dimples and your pimples, and your funny little plays, and all your pretty ways ; and I send you my blessing, and wish I were kissing your sweet rosy lips, or your fat finger tips ; and that you were here so that I could hear your stammering words, from a mouthful of curds; and a great purple tongue (as broad as it's long); and see your round eyes open wide with surprise, and your wondering look to find yourself at Craigcrook ! To-morrow is Mag- gie's birthday, and we have built up a great bonfire in honor of it; and Maggie Rutherford (do you remember her at all?) is coming out to dance round it; and all the servants are to drink her health, and wish her many happy days with you and Frankie ; and all the mammas and papas, whether grand oi' not grand. We are very glad to hear she and you love each other so well, and are happy in 36 AUTHORS. making each other happy, and that you do not forget dear Tarley or Frankie when they are out of sight, nor Granny either, or even old Granny pa, who is in most danger of being forgotten, he thinks." Here is another exquisite letter to one of his grandchildren, when its writer was in his seventy-fifth year: Craigcrook, June 21, 1847. "A high day! and a holiday! the longest and the brightest of the year; the very middle day of the summer, and the very day when Maggie first opened her sweet eyes on the light! Bless you ever, my darling and bonny bairn. You have now blossomed beside us for six pleasant years, and been all that time the light of our eyes and the love of our hearts; at first the cause of some tender fears from your weakness and delicacy, then of some little provocation from your too great love, as we thought, of your own will and amusement, but now only of love and admiration for your gentle obedience to your parents, and your sweet yielding to the wishes of your younger sister and brother. God bless and keep you then for ever, my delightful and ever-im- proving child, and make you not only gay and happy as an angel without sin and sorrow, but meek and mild like that heavenly Child, who was once sent down to earth for our example. Well, the sun is shining brightly on our towers and trees, and the great bonfire is all piled up and ready to be light- ed, when we come out after drink- ing your health at dinner; and we have got a great blue and yellow flag hung out on the tower, wav- ing proudly in the wind, and tell- ing all the country around that this is a day of rejoicing and thanksgiving, and wishes of hap- piness, with all who live under its shadow. And the servants are all to have a fine dinner, and wine and whisky to drink to your health, and all the young Christies (that is, the new gardener's children) will be taught to repeat your name with blessings; and when they are drawn up around the bonfire will wonder a little, I dare say, what sort of a creature this Miss Mag- gie can be, that we are making all this fuss about! and so you must take care, when you come, to be good enough and pretty enough, to make them understand why we all so love and honor you. Frankie and Tarley have been talking a great deal about you this morning already, and Granny is going to take them, and Mary Rutherfurd and her brother, down to the sea at Cramond, that they may tell the fishes and the distant shores what a happy and a hopeful day it is to them, and to us all. And so bless you again, my sweet one, for this and all future years. Think kindly of one who thinks always of you, and believe, that of all who love you there is none who has loved you better or longer, or more constantly, than your loving Grandpa."-Life of Lord Jeffrey. AUTHORS. 37 ROUSSEAU AND DAVID HUME. IRRITABILITY AND VANITY. me a steadfast, piercing look, mixed with a sneer, which greatly- disturbed me. To get rid of the embarrassment I lay under, I en- deavored to look full at him in my turn; but in fixing my eyes against his, I felt the most inexpressible terror, and was obliged soon to turn them away. The speech and physiognomy of the good David is that of an honest man; but where, great God! did this good man borrow those eyes he fixes so sternly and unaccountably on those of his friends ? The impression of this look remained with me, and gave me much uneasiness. My trouble increased even to a degree of fainting; and if I had not been relieved by an effusion of tears I had been suffocated. Presently after this I was seized with the most violent remorse; I even despised myself; till at length, in a transport, which I still remember with delight, I sprang on his neck, embraced him eager- ly, while almost choked with sob- bing, and bathed in tears, I cried out in broken accents, No, no, David Hume cannot be treacher- ous. If he be not the best of men, he must be the basest of man- kind. David Hume politely re- turned my embraces, and, gently tapping me on the back, repeated several times, in a good-natured and easy tone, Why, what, my dear sir! nay, my dear sir! O, my dear sir! He said nothing more. I felt my heart yearn within me. We went to bed; and I set out the next day for the country." In 1762, the Parliament of Paris issued an arret against Jean Jacques Rousseau, on account of his opinions, and the good offices of David Hume were engaged to find him a retreat in England. He was established comfortably in the mansion of Mr. Davenport, at Wooton, in Derbyshire. This vain man appeared in public in London wearing an Armenian dress, which of course attracted much notice; and so long as he was an object of curiosity, his vanity found ample gratification. But being irritable as he was vain, whenever the interest of his first appearance in England began to subside, and he found himself ex- posed to the animadversions of the press, he became dissatisfied and jealous, and quarreled with his benefactor, Hume, whom he accused of conceiving horrible de- signs against him. Rousseau has related an amusing interview with Hume at the time when he enter- tained his morbid suspicion of the historian's sincerity. The contrast betwixt the phlegmatic reserve of Hume, and the violent efferves- cence of the Genevese philoso- pher is highly characteristic. The scene arose out of a dispute about the payment of a return chaise: "As we were sitting one evening, after supper, silently by the fire- side, I caught his eye intently fixed on mine, as indeed happened very often ; and that in a manner of which it is very difficult to give an idea. At that time he gave 38 AUTHORS. WHIMS AND CAPRICES. several beautiful pieces published in his first collection, and reprint- ing others of inferior poetical merit, as another of the many in- stances of authors differing from the general opinion. An insane author, once placed in confinement, employed most of his time in writing. One night, being thus engaged by aid of a bright moon, a slight cloud passed over the luminary, when, in an impetuous manner, he called out -"Arise, Jupiter, and snuff the moon." The cloud became thick- er, and he exclaimed-"The stu- pid I he has snuffed it out." A MAD AUTHOR. Rabelais had writ some sensible pieces, which the world did not regard at all. " I will write some- thing," says he, " that they shall take notice of; " and so sat down to write nonsense. Everybody allows that there are several things without any manner of meaning in his Pantagruel. Dr. Swift likes it much, and thinks there are more good things in it than I do.-Pope. RABELAIS. AUTHORS NOT THE BEST JUDGES OF THEIR OWN WRITINGS. It is known that Milton pre- ferred his Paradise Regained to his divine poem of Paradise Lost. Virgil is recorded to have ordered, on his deathbed, that the Ndneid should be burnt, because he did not think it sufficiently finished for publication; and it is to the disobedience of his executors that we are indebted for the possession of that exquisite performance. Tasso new-modeled and injured his Gierusalemme Liberata. And it may reasonably be doubted, from the specimen which Aken- side has left of the manner in which he intended to alter his Pleasures of Imagination, whether that beautiful poem would have been improved by the experiment, had he lived to finish it. Sir Wil- liam Forbes, in his Life of Dr. Beattie, adduces his omitting, in the late editions of his poems, of CAPRICES AND CONTRADICTIONS. A More, fiercely prosecuting for opinion while writing in favor of the rights of thought; a Bacon, teaching morals and taking bribes; a La Fontaine, writing intrigues while avoiding, in his own person, a single amour; a Young, making wretched puns and writing Night Thoughts; a Sterne, beating his wife and crying over a dead ass ; a melancholy Cowper, gasping out the laughter-moving story of John Gilpin : truly that chapter which shall have to deal with all the oddities and anomalies of the literary life must be long and cu- rious, infinitely various in its illus- trations, and deep in its insight and its philosophy.-Athenaeum. AUTHORS. 39 ANTIQUARIANISM. I rejoice you have met with Froissart: lie is the Herodotus of a barbarous age; had he but had the luck of writing in as good language, he might have been im- mortal! His locomotive disposi- tion (for then there was no other way of learning things); his sim- ple curiosity, his religious creduli- ty, were much like those of the old Grecian.-(Thomas Gray to Mr. Nicholls.) [In a letter to Dr. Wharton more than ten years be- fore this, he says] : Froissart is a favorite book of mine (though I have not attentively read them, but only dipped here and there) ; and it is strange to me that peo- ple, who would give thousands for a dozen portraits (originals of that time) to furnish a gallery, should never cast an eye on so many moving pictures of the life, actions, manners, and thoughts of their an- cestors, done on the spot, and in strong, though simple colors. In the succeeding century Froissart, I find, was read with great satis- faction by everybody that could read; and on the same footing with King Arthur, Sir Tristram, FROISSART. and Archbishop Turpin: not be- cause they thought him a fabulous writer, but because they took them all for true and authentic histori- ans; to so little purpose was it in that age for a man to be at the pains of writing truth. AN ANTIQUARY. lie is a man strangely thrifty of time past, and an enemy indeed to his maw, whence he fetches out many things when they are now all rotten and stinking. He is one that hath that unnatural disease to be enamored of old age and wrinkles, and loves all things (as Dutchmen do cheese) the better for being mouldy and worm eaten. He is of our religion because we say it is most ancient; and yet a broken statue would almost make him an idolater. A great admirer he is of the rust of old monuments, and reads only those characters, where time hath eaten out the letters. He will go with you forty miles to see a saint's well or a ruined abbey; and if there be but a cross or stone footstool in the way, he'll be con- sidering it so long, till he forget his journey.-Bishop Earle. CONVERSATION. fables ; and Buffon, the great nat- uralist, were all singularly defi- cient in the powers of conversa- tion. Marmontel, the novelist, was so dull in society that his friend said of him, after an inter- view, " I must go and read his tales to recompense myself for the DESCARTES, LA FONTAINE, MAR- MONTEL, CORNEILLE, BUTLER, ADDISON, ROUSSEAU, MILTON, ETC. Descartes, the famous mathe- matician and philosopher; La Fontaine, celebrated for his witty 40 AUTHORS, weariness of hearing him." As to Corneille, the greatest dramatist of France, he was completely lost in society-so absent and embarrass- ed that he wrote of himself a wit- ty couplet, importing that he was never intelligible but through the mouth of another. Wit on paper seems to be something widely dif- ferent from that play of words in conversation, which, while it sparkles, dies; for Charles II, the wittiest monarch that ever sat on the English throne, was so charm- ed with the humor of Hudibras, that he caused himself to be in- troduced, in the character of a private gentleman, to Butler, its author. The witty king found the author a very dull companion, and was of opinion, with many others, that so stupid a fellow could never have written so clever a book. Ad- dison, whose classic elegance has long been considered the model of style, was shy and absent in soci- ety, preserving, even before a sin- gle stranger, stiff and dignified silence.... In conversation Dante was taciturn or satirical. Gray and Alfieri seldom talked or smiled. Rousseau was remarka- bly trite in conversation ; not a word of fancy or eloquence warm- ed him. Milton was unsocial, and even irritable, when much pressed by talk of others. Dryden has very honestly told us, " My conver- sation is dull and slow, my humor is saturnine and reserved; in short, I am not one of those who endeavor to break jest in compa- ny, or make repartees."-Salad for the Solitary. AMANUENSES OF AUTHORS. milton's paradise lost. of employing an amanuensis, and thus saving time and the trouble of writing. " How do you man- age it?" said Goldsmith. " Why, I walk about the room, and dic- tate to a clevei" man, who puts down very correctly all that I tell him, so that I have nothing to do more than just to look over the manuscript, and then send it to the press." Goldsmith was delighted with the information, and desired the friend to send the amanuensis the next morning. The scribe accord- ingly waited upon the Doctor, with the implements of pens, ink, and paper placed in order before him, ready to catch the oracle. Gold- smith paced the room with great solemnity, several times, for some Milton was blind when he com- posed that immortal work, the " Paradise Lost." His daughters were his amanuenses. Nor did they merely write what he dictat- ed ; but they read to him from day to day whatever classical or other authors he might wish to consult in the way of reference, or to relax or invigorate his mind. But reading to their father the Greek and Latin authors must have been very tedious to them, as it is said they were quite ig- norant of both those ancient lan- guages. goldsmith's trial. A voluminous author was one day expatiating on the advantages AUTHORS 41 time ; but, after racking his brains to no purpose, he put his hand into his pocket, and, presenting the amanuensis with a guinea, said, " It won't do, my friend; I find that my head and hand must go to- gether." hart on account of the supe- rior rapidity of his pen; and also because John kept his pen to the paper without interrup- tion, and though with many an arch twinkle in his eyes, and now and then an audible smack of his lips, had the resolution to work on like a well-trained clerk ; whereas good Laidlaw entered with such keen zest into the interest of the story as it flowed from the au- thor's lips, that he could not sup- press exclamations of surprise and delight-" Gude keep us a' 1 the like o' that!-eh sirs I eh sirs!" and so forth-which did not pro- mote dispatch. I have often, however, in the sequel heard both these secretaries describe the as- tonishment with which they were equally affected when Scott began this experiment. The affection- ate Laidlaw beseeching him to stop dictating, when his audible suffering filled every pause, "Nay, Willie," he answered, " only see that the doors are fast. I would fain keep all the cry as well as all the wool to ourselves; hut as to giving over work, that can only be when I am in w'oolen." John Ballantyne told me, that after the first day, he always took care to have a dozen of pens made before he seated himself opposite to the sofa on which Scott lay, and that though he often turned himself on his pillow with a groan of tor- ment, he usually continued the sentence in the same breath. But when dialogue of peculiar anima- tion was in progress, spirit seemed to triumph altogether over matter -he arose from his couch and walked up and down the room, Dr. Timothy Dwight, of New Haven, prepared his System of Theology for the press in his old age, when his defective sight no longer enabled him to use the pen. He dictated to an amanuensis that long and eloquent course of sermons on the various doctrines of religion, which will carry down his name through coming time, and spread his influence over the world. dwight's theology. The style of Wilberforce's Prac- tical View of the Prevailing Re- ligious System, on the appearance of that elegant essay, was charac- terized as possessing all the fluen- cy, ease, and grace of an unwrit- ten address, and all the author's skill in debate and Parliamentary tact. It turned out that the work had not been written, but dictated to an amanuensis while the author walked backward and forward in his study. WILBERFORCE. SIR WALTER SCOTT'S AMANUEN- SES. William Laidlaw (author of the beautiful song of " Lucy's Flit- tin' "), and John Ballantyne the printer, were Scott's amanuenses, when, suffering from extreme bodily pain, he was composing the " Bride of Lamraermoor." He preferred the latter, says Lock- 42 AUTHORS. raising and lowering his voice, and as it were acting the parts. It was in this fashion that Scott produced the far greater portion of the Bride of Lammermoor-- the whole of the Legend of Mon- trose-and almost the whole of Ivanhoe.-Scott's Life, p. 397. MISCELLANEOUS ANECDOTES. THOMAS MOORE-HIS SINGING. was living in his house at the time. He was unreserved in all his devoutest feelings before me ; and from the beauty of the morn- ing scenery, and the recent death of his sister, our conversation took a serious turn on the proofs of In- finite Benevolence in the creation, and the goodness of God. As I re- tired to my own bed I overheard his devotions-not his prayer, but a hymn which he sung, and with a power and inspiration beyond himself and beyond anything else. At that time he was a strong- voiced, and commanding-looking man. The remembrance of his large, expressive features when he climbed the hill, and of his organ-like voice in praising God, is yet fresh, and ever pleasing, in my mind." Thomas Moore sung his songs into popularity. We have this entry in his diary: " Dined with the Fieldings : sung in the evening to him, her, Montgomery, and the governess- all four weeping. This is the true tribute to my singing." Similar entries are common in his diary, in which all who shed tears at his singing invariably found a place. " No one believes how much I am sometimes affected in singing, partly from being touched myself and partly from an anxiety to touch others." JAMES GRAHAME HIS SINGING. Thomas Campbell preserved the following reminiscence of the devo- tional feeling of James Grahame, author of The Sabbath, with whom he was on a familiar footing when both were young men residing in Edinburgh : " One of the most endearing cir- cumstances which I remember of Grahame was his singing. I shall never fbget one summer evening that we agreed to sit up all night, and go together to Arthur's Seat to see the sun rise. We sat, accord- ingly, all night in his delightful parlor, the seat of so many happy remembrances ! We then went and saw a beautiful sunrise. I returned home with him, for I butler's hudibras. Hudibras was not a hasty effu- sion ; it was not produced by a sudden tumult of imagination, or short paroxysm of violent labor. To accumulate such a mass of sentiments at the call of accident- al desire of sudden necessity, is beyond the reach and power of the most active and comprehen- sive mind. I am informed by Mr. Thyer of Manchester, that excel- lent editor of this author's reliques, that he could show something of Hudibras, in prose. He has in his possession the common-place AUTHORS. 43 book, in which Butler reposited, not such events and precepts as are gathered by reading, but such remarks, similitudes, allusions, as- semblages, or inferences, as occa- sion prompted, or meditation pro- duced ; those thoughts that were generated in his own mind, and might be usefully applied to some future purpose. Such is the la- bor of those who write for immor- tality.-Dr. Johnson. plain, having a very vulgar stom- ach." Dr. George Fordyce con- tended that as one meal a day was enough for a lion, it ought to suffice for a man. Accordingly, for more than twenty years, the Doctor used to eat only a dinner in the whole course of the day. This solitary meal he took regu- larly at four o'clock, at Dolly's chop-house. A pound and a half of rump steak, half a broiled chicken, a plate of fish, a bottle of port, a quarter of a pint of brandy, and a tankard of strong ale, satisfied the Doctor's wants till four o'clock next day, and regu- larly engaged one hour and a half of his time. Dinner over, he re- turned to his home in Essex street, Strand, to deliver his six o'clock lecture on anatomy and chemistry. Baron Maseres, who lived nearly to the age of ninety, used to go home one day in every week without any dinner, eating only a round of dry toast at tea. Aris- totle, like a true poet, seems to have literally feasted on fancy. Few could live more frugally; in one of his poems, he says of him- self, " that he was a fit person to have lived in the world when acorns were the food of men."- Salad for the Solitary. Dr. Rondelet, an ancient writer on fishes, was so fond of figs, that he died in 1566, of a surfeit occa- sioned by eating them to excess. In a letter to a friend, Dr. Parr confesses his love of " hot boiled lobsters, with a profusion of shrimp sauce." Pope, who was an epicure, would lie in bed for days at Lord Bolingbroke's. unless he were told that there were stewed lampreys for dinner, when he arose instantly, and came down to table. A gentle- man treated Dr. Johnson to new honey and clouted cream, of which he ate so largely, that his enter- tainer became alarmed. All his lifetime Dr. Johnson had a vora- cious attachment for a leg of mut- ton. "At my aunt Ford's," says he, " I ate so much of a boiled leg of mutton, that she used to talk of it. My mother, who was affected by little things, told me seriously that it would hardly ever be forgotten." Dryden, writing in 1699 to a lady, declining her invitation to a hand- some supper, says, " If beggars might be choosers, a chine of hon- est bacon would please my appe- tite more than all the marrow puddings, for I like them better FAVORITE DISHES. At Paris, you may be sure, we met with entertainment enough: at the Scotch Jesuits there I fancy either you or Mr. Baker would have willingly took a peep with us. There was a folio volume of letters of Mary Queen of Scots and her husband, and King James I and his Queen, etc., all originals ; but MARY QUEEN OE SCOTS. 44 AUTHORS. most were Queen Mary's to the Archbishop of Glasgow, who gave the Society this book, and many other papers. At the end of the book was Queen Mary's will in her own writing, the day before her being beheaded; all in French. I read many parts of it; and last of all a sort of a codicil in her own hand (disposing of four or five other particulars), dated in her own words, " Le Matin de ma Mort."-Rev. J. Church to Dr. Z. Grey, 1736. bly. A foreigner of distinction hearing the expression, translated it literally "Bas Bleu," by which these meetings came to be after- wards distinguished.-Forbes's Life of Beattie. A FAVORITE AUTHOR. A predilection for some great author among the vast number which must transiently occupy our attention, seems to be the happiest preservative for our taste. Ac- customed to that excellent author whom we have chosen for our fa- vorite, we may possibly resemble him in this intimacy. It is to be feared that if we do not form such a permanent attachment, we may be acquiring knowledge while our enervated taste becomes less and less lively. Taste embalms the knowledge which otherwise can- not preserve itself. He who has long been intimate with one great author, will always be found to be a formidable antagonist; he has saturated his mind with the excel- lencies of genius; he has shaped his faculties, insensibly to himself, by his model; and he is like a man who ever sleeps in armor, ready at a moment! The old Latin pro- verb reminds us of this fact, Cave ab homine unius libri-be cautious of the man of one book.-D'Is- raeli in Curiosities of Literature. ORIGIN OF THE NAME BLUE STOCKINGS. It is well known that Mrs. Mon- tagu's house was at that time (1771) the chosen resort of many of those of both sexes most dis- tinguished for rank, as well as classical taste and literary talent, in London. This society of emi- nent friends consisted, originally, of Mrs. Montagu, Mrs. Vesey, Miss Boscawen, and Mrs. Carter, Lord Lyttelton, Mr. Pulteney, Horace Walpole, and Mr. Stilling- fleet. To the latter gentleman, a man of great piety and worth, and author of some works in natural history, etc., this constellation of talents owed that whimsical appel- lation of "Bas Bleu." Mr. Stil- lingfleet, being somewhat of an humorist in his habits and man- ners, and a little negligent in his dress, literally wore gray stock- ings; from which circumstance Admiral Boscawen used, by way of pleasantry, to call them " The Blue Stocking Society," as if to in- timate that when these brilliant friends met, it was not for the pur- pose of forming a dressed assem- lady m. w. Montagu's letters FROM THE LEVANT. The publication of these letters will be an immortal monument to the memory of Lady Mary Wort- ley Montagu, and will show, as long as the English language en- dures, the sprightliness of her wit, the solidity of her judgment, the AUTHORS. 45 elegance of her taste, and the ex- cellence of her real character. These letters are so bewitchingly entertaining, that we defy the most phlegmatic man on earth to read one without going through them, or, after finishing the third volume, not to wish there were twenty more of them.-Dr. Smollett. the contrary, must have been a pious man.-Dr. Beattie to Bev. Dr. Laing. This word is now very common in our language. Dr. Johnson has not introduced it into his Diction- ary, although it was employed long before his time, but disguised by its orthography. In Richard Head's Art of Wheedling, 12mo, 1634, p. 254, it is thus used- " The mercer cries, Was ever a man so hocus'd?" So that hoax, or, as it was originally written, hocus, is any species of dexterous imposition -similar to the tricks of the jug- gler, whose art was termed hocus pocus, which is generally admit- ted to be a corruption .of Hoc est corpus. ETYMOLOGY HOAX. handel's Messiah. When Handel's Messiah was first performed, the audience were exceedingly struck and affected by the music in general; but when that chorus struck up, "For the Lord God omnipotent reigneth," they were so transported, that they all, together with the king (who happened to be present), started up, and remained standing till the chorus ended: and hence it be- came the fashion in England for the audience to stand while that part of the music is performing. Some days after the first exhibi- tion of the same divine oratorio, Mr. Handel came to pay his re- spects to Lord Kinnoul, with whom he was particularly ac- quainted. His Lordship, as was natural, paid him some compli- ments on the noble entertainment which he had lately given the town. " My Lord," said Handel, "I should be sorry if I only en- tertained them; I wish to make them better." These two anec- dotes I had from Lord Kinnoul himself. You will agree with me, that the first does great honor to Handel, to music, and to the Eng- lish nation: the second tends to con- firm my theory, and Sir John Haw- kins's testimony, that Handel, in spite of all that has been said to As cunning as Old Nick, and as wicked as Old Nick, were origi- nally meant of our Nicolas Ma- chiavel; and so came afterwards to be perverted to the devil.-Dr. Cocchi, Florence. Machiavel has been generally called so wicked from people mis- taking the design of his writings. In his " Prince," his design, at bot- tom, was to make a despotic gov- ernment odious. " A despotic prince," he says, " to secure him- self, must kill such and such peo- ple." He must so; and therefore no wise people would suffer such a prince. This is the natural conse- quence ; and not that Machiavel seriously advises princes to be wicked.-Dr. Cocchi, Florence. MACHIAVEL AND OLD NICK. When the English were good ORIGIN OF BUMPER. 46 AUTHORS. Catholics, they usually drank the Pope's health in a full.glass, every day after dinner-au bon pere: whence your word bumper.-Dr. Cocchi, Florence. of property being the true basis of power. His Oceana, allowing for the different situations of things, (as the less number of Lords then, those Lords having no share in the Parliament, and the like,) is certainly one of the best founded political pieces that ever was writ.-Dean Lockier. IN HOC SIGNO VINCES. When Henry the Fourth of France was reconciled to the church of Rome, it was expected that he should give some remark- able testimonial of his sincerity in returning to the true faith. He accordingly ordered a cross to be erected at Rome, near the church of Santa Maria Maggiore, with this inscription, In hoc signo vin- ces, on the principal part of it. This passed at first as very Cath- olic, till it was observed that the part in which the inscription is put is shaped in the form of a can- non, and that he had really at- tributed only to his artillery what they had taken to be addressed to heaven.-Ficaroni. eloquence in wine. Sir Thomas More was sent by Henry VIII on an embassy to the Emperor of Germany, where, before he delivered it, he com- manded one of his servants to fill him a beer-glass of wine, which he drank off; and afterwards re- peated, and at the same time di- recting his servant to bring him a third; the servant knowing his master's usual temperance, at first refused to fill him another, being under a concern for his behavior, but on a second command of Sir Thomas, he did it; which being drank, he then made his immedi- ate address to the Emperor, and delivered his oration in Latin like one inspired, to the very great ad- miration of all the auditors. This I mention to show the influ- ence of wine I-Life of Sir T. More. filicaia's sonnets. Filicaia, in his sonnets, makes use of many expressions borrowed from the Psalms, and consequent- ly not generally understood among us. A gentleman of Florence, on reading some of the passages in him, which were literally taken from David, cried out, " Oh I are you there again with your barbar- isms ? " and flung away the book, as not worth his reading.- Cru- deli of Florence. That there never existed poems exactly in the form in which Fin- gal and Temone were published by Macpherson, seems now to be the opinion generally entertained. But it is still maintained by many, with the strongest appearance of reason, that there certainly were poetical compositions, consisting of songs and ballads, and other pieces, existing in the Highlands ossian's poems. Harrington's oceana. It is strange that Harrington, so little while ago, should be the first man to find out so evident and demonstrable a truth, as that THE BIBLE. 47 many years before Macpherson was born, of which sufficient traces are even yet to be found in vari- ous parts of that country, some in a more, some in a less perfect form. From these scattered frag- ments it probably was, that Mac- pherson, by imitations and addi- tions of his own, wrought his work into a whole, and thus gave it the appearance, in some degree, of a regular epic poem. Nor is it dif- ficult, perhaps, to conceive how these fragments may have been handed down from father to son, even without the use of writing, among a people who, with scarce- ly any knowledge of agriculture, commerce, or the useful arts, filled up the vacancies of a pastoral life, by the recital of those popular songs and ballads. This is a prac- tice not peculiar to the Highlands of Scotland, but to be found in all nations, who, by their local situa- tion in the midst of hills and fast- nesses, are cut off from any great degree of intercourse with neigh- boring countries, farther advanced in the arts of polished life. Nor will it appear so very wonderful if, in this manner, that poetry may have been preserved, which is believed by many to have ex- isted in the Highlands, when the powers of the memory are consid- ered, and the strength it acquired by the perpetual exercise of list- ening to the bards, who were an appendage of the state and mag- nificence of a Highland chieftain. -Sir William Forbes. BIBLE. EARLY TRANSLATIONS OF THE BIBLE. 1613 a new translation was pub- lished by authority, which is that in present use. There was not any translation of it into the Irish language till 1685. The pope did not give his permission for the translation of it into any language till 1759.-Jenoway's Notes. The translation of the Bible was begun very early in this kingdom. Some part of it was done by king Alfred. Adelmus translated the Psalms into Saxon in 709. Other parts were done by Edfrid, or Eg- bert, 750 ; the whole by Bede. In 1357 Trevisa published the whole in English. Tindall's translation appeared in 1334, was revised and altered in 1538, published with a preface of Cranmer's in 1549, and allowed to be read in churches. In 1551 another translation was published, which, being revised by several bishops, was printed with their alterations in 1560. In PRESENT TRANSLATION OF THE BIBLE. This translation was made at the command of King James I; the translators were fifty-four of the most learned men of that time, who were divided into five bodies, of which each was to labor on a particular part of the Bible, which was thus divided: The Penta- teuch, and the Books of Judges, 48 THE BIBLE. Ruth, Samuel, and Kings, to the Deans of Westminster and St. Paul's, Doctors Saravia, Clark, Layfield, Leigh, Messrs. Stretford, Sussex, Clare, Bedwell. From the Chronicles to Ecclesiastes, to Dr. Richardson, and Messrs. Sir- ley, Chadderton, Dillingham, Har- rison, Andrews, Spalding, Binge. All the Prophets and Lamenta- tions to Drs. Harding, Reinolds, Holland, Kilby, Messrs. Hereford, Brett, Fareclowe. All the Epis- tles to the Dean of Chester, Drs. Hutchinson, Spencer, Messrs. Fenton, Rabbit, Sanderson, Da- kins. The Gospels, Acts, and Apocalypse, to the Deans of Christchurch, Winchester, Wor- cester, Windsor, Drs. Perin, Ra- vins, Messrs. Savile, Harmer. And the Apocrypha, to Drs. Duport, Braithwaite, Ratcliffe, Messrs. Ward, Downes, Boyse, Warde. They met at Westmin- ster, Oxford, and Cambridge, as it was convenient for each body. The method in which they pro- ceeded was thus : Several trans- lations of each part were drawn up by the members of that body to which it was allotted, who then, in a joint consultation, selected three of the best, or compiled them out of the whole number. Thus in three years three trans- lations of the whole were sent to London; then six deputies, two from each place, were appointed to extract one translation out of the three, which was finished and printed in the year 1611. BOOKS MENTIONED IN THE BI- BLE, NOW LOST OR UNKNOWN. At your request, I have copied out, from the collection I have made, the ten underwritten (I think) lost books; but should be glad to be set to rights by better information: I. " The Prophecy of Enoch." See Epistle to Jude 14. II. " The Book of the Wars of the Lord." See Numb, xxi, 14. III. " The Prophetical Gospel of Eve, which relates to the Amours of the Sons of God with the Daughters of Men." See Origin Cont. Celsum, Tertuh, etc. IV. "The Book of Jeshur." See Joshua x, 13; and 2 Sam. i, 18. V. " The Book of Iddo the Seer." See 2 Chron. ix, 29 ; and xii, 15. VI. " The Book of Nathan the Prophet." See as above. VII. " The Prophecies of Ahi- jah the Shilonite." See as above. VIII. " The Acts of Rehoboam, in the Book of Shemaiah." See 2 Chron. xii, 15. IX. " The Book of Jehu the son of Hanani." See 2 Chron. xx, 34. X. " The Five Books of Solo- mon, treating on the nature of trees, beasts, fowl, serpents, and fishes." See 1 Kings iv, 33. XI. You may add the 151st Psalm. I have it somewhere in the house, but cannot at present find it.-Mr. Ames to Mr. Da Costa. BOOKS, BOOKSELLERS, AND BIBLIOMANIACS. 49 BOOKS, BOOKSELLERS AND BIBLIOMANIACS. FRANKLIN AS A BOOKSELLER. One fine morning when Frank- lin was busy preparing his news- paper for the press, a lounger stepped into the store, and spent an hour or more looking over the books, etc., and finally taking one in his hand, asked the shop boy the price. " One dollar," was the answer. " One dollar," said the lounger; " can't you take less than that ? " " No, indeed ; one dollar is the price." Another hour had nearly pass- ed, when the lounger said, " Is Mr. Franklin at home ?" " Yes, he is in the printing- office." " I want to see him," said the lounger. The shop boy immediately in- formed Mr. Franklin that a gen- tleman was in the store, waiting to see him. Franklin was soon behind the counter, when the lounger, with book in hand, ad- dressed him thus : " Mr. Franklin, what is the lowest you can take for that book ?" " One dollar and a quarter," was the ready answer. " One dollar and a quarter! Why, your young man asked me only a dollar." " True," said Franklin, " and I could have better afforded to have taken a dollar then, than to have been taken out of the office." The lounger seemed surprised, and, wishing to end the parley of his own making, said : " Come, Mr. Franklin, tell me what is the lowest you can take for it ?" " One dollar and a half." " A dollar and a half I Why, you offered it yourself for a dol- lar and a quarter." " Yes," said Franklin, " and I had better have taken that price then, than a dollar and a half now." The lounger paid down the price, and went about his business -if he had any-and Franklin returned into the printing-office. sale of Roxburgh's library. Unlike most other species of property, books, in some instances, advance in value in proportion to their age. Many cases might be cited to prove this ; the most re- markable on record is that of the great sale of Lord Roxburgh's library, in 1812, which occupied forty-five days at auction, and which cost its founder, fifty years before, less than £5000, but which actually realized on the occasion referred to, the enormous sum of £23,341. One book, the folio (first) edition of Boccaccio, print- ed by Valdarfer, of which it is be- lieved this was the only copy ex- tant, brought £2260. Its original price was something like ten shillings. Bibliomania was at this time, certainly, at its extreme height. It was in the period of Scott's early manhood that the mania for BLACK-LETTER BOOKS. 50 BOOKS, BOOKSELLERS, AND BIBLIOMANIACS. black-letter books began to mani- fest itself in the land, and, like the once notable tulip madness in Hol- land, proved an important source of emolument to those who had even a small capital to embark in the purchase of rare specimens. It was quite possible for such trad- ers occasionally to purchase for a trifling sum an entire library from some improvident or illiterate rep- resentative of an old family, by whom the books were looked upon as mere lumber. From these the fortunate purchaser well knew how to select the gems inestima- ble in the eyes of a collector, any one of which, being properly set and adorned in its fragrant bind- ing of Russia leather, would some- times bring nearly as much mon- ey as had been given for the whole lot. It was, indeed, on this basis principally that Mr. Consta- ble, who had the honor of publish- ing the Lay of the Last Minstrel and Marmion, contrived to accu- mulate that wealth, or acquire that credit, which, if more prudently managed, might have insured him stability and reputation for life. Mr. Scott was one of the very few among Constable's patrons who could turn this mania to good ac- count ; for, whilst he seemed to the uninitiated to have an indiscrimi- nate appet ite for old books of every description, the truth was, that he seldom made a purchase of one without some rational and special object in view. their letters the same morning, but unfortunately misdirected them. In these epistles, he complained of the rascally cupidity of each. In the one he intended for Tonson, he said that Lintot was so great a scoundrel, that printing with him was out of the question; and writ- ing to Lintot, he declared that Tonson was an old rascal, with many other epithets equally op- probrious. " Others, like Kemble, on black-letter pore, And what they do not understand, adore ; Buy at vast sums the trash of ancient days, And draw on prodigality for praise. These when some lucky hit, or lucky price, Has blessed them with • The Eoke of gods advice,1 For ekes and algates only deign to seek, And live upon a whilome for a week." BLACK-LETTER HUNTERS. Though no great catalogue- hunter, I love to look into such marked ones as now and then fall in my way. That of poor Dodd's books amused me not a little. It exhibited many instances of black-letter mania; and what is more to my purpose, a transfer of much valuable " trash of an- cient days," to the fortunate Mr. Kemble. For example: " First part of the tragicall reigne £ s. d. of Seliinus Emperor of the Turks 1 11 6 Jacob and Esau, a Mery and Whittie Comedie 3 5 0 Look about You. a Comedie 5 7 6 The Tragedie of T. Nero, Rome's Greatest Tyraunte 14 0 etc., etc." " How are we ruined 1"- Gifford, in Baviad. As to the word Alluminor in the " Richard III," I take it that, even before the invention of print- ing, when, as well as afterwards, it was the custom to illuminate the initial letters, such had the privi- ILLUMINATORS. RIVAL PUBLISHERS. Both Tonson and Lintot were rivals for publishing a work of Dr. Young's. The poet answered both BOOKS, BOOKSELLERS, AND BIBLIOMANIACS. 51 lege of being members, and were entitled to the privileges of univer- sities, whereof you will find some memorandums in the history of Bullens, or that of Paris ; and if you will inspect the present Judge Fortescue's edition of Fortescue's work of Supreme Power (or some such title), you will find a pleasant dispute about the import of the word Illuminators, in the case of the University of Oxford, among the wise judges of the Common PleasIn the early printed books the initial letter was gener- ally a small one, with a large room left foi' the illuminator to make a larger letter, and to adorn or illu- minate it eithei' with colors or metals. I take it that among those who enjoy the privilege of the uni- versities, are illuminators. The word is used figuratively in our liturgy,-" illuminate all bishops, priests and deacons," though with relation to spiritual gifts.-Mr. Anstis to Mr. Ames. Much old Tonson owed to his in- dustry ; but he was a mere trader. He and Dryden had frequent bick- erings; he insisted on receiving ten thousand verses for two hundred and sixty-eight pounds, and poor Dryden threw in the finest ode in the language towards that num- ber. He would pay in the base coin which was then current, which was a loss to the poet. Tonson once complained to Dryden, that he had only received fourteen hundred and forty-six lines of his translations of Ovid for his Miscellany for fifty guin- eas, when he had calculated at the rate of fifteen hundred and eighteen lines for forty guineas ; he gives the poet a piece of crit- ical reasoning, that he considered he had a better bargain with Ju- venal, which is reckoned not so easy to translate as Ovid. In these times such a mere trader in literature has disappeared. cowper's poems. The elder Tonson's portrait rep- resents him in his gown and cap, holding in his right hand a volume lettered Paradise Lost-such a fa- vorite object was Milton and copy- right. Jacob Tonson was the founder of a race who long hon- ored literature. His rise in life is curious. He was at first una- ble to pay twenty pounds for a play by Dryden, and joined with another bookseller to advance that sum; the play sold, and Tonson was afterwards enabled to pur- chase the succeeding ones. He and his nephew died worth two hundred thousand pounds. THE ELDER TONSON. Mr. Johnson, the bookseller in St. Paul's Churchyard, obtained the copyright of Cowper's Poems, which proved a source of great profit to him, in the following manner: A relation of Cowper called one evening at dusk, on Johnson, with a bundle of these poems, which he offered to him for publication, provided he would print them on his own risk, and let the author have a few copies to give to his friends. Johnson pe- rused, and approved of them, and accordingly printed and published them. Soon after they had ap- peared before the public, there was not a review which did not 52 BOOKS, BOOKSELLERS, AND BIBLIOMANIACS, load them with the most scurril- ous abuse, and condemn them to the butter-shops. ' In consequence of the public taste being thus ter- rified, or misled, these charming effusions lay in a corner of the bookseller's shop as an unsaleable pile for a long period. Some time afterwards, the same person ap- peared, with another bundle of manuscripts from the same author; which were offered and accepted upon the same terms. In this fresh collection was the inimitable poem of The Task. Not alarmed at the fate of the former publica- tion, and thoroughly assured, as he was, of their great merit, Mr. Johnson resolved to publish them. Soon after they had appeared, the tone of the reviewers instantly changed, and Cowper was hailed as the first poet of his age. The success of this second publication set the first in motion, and John- son immediately reaped the fruits of his undaunted judgment. them; their great capitals, too, are productive of good and evil in literature; useful, when they carry on great works; and pernicious, when they sanction indifferent ones. Yet are they but commer- cial men. A trader can never be deemed a patron, for it would be romantic to purchase what is not saleable; but where no favor is conferred, there is no patronage. Authors continue poor and book- sellers become opulent; an extra- ordinary result! Booksellers are not agents for authors, but propri- etors of their works ; so that the perpetual revenues of literature are solely in the possession of the trade.-D'Isr. Tonson and all his family and assignees, rode in their carriages with the profits of Milton's five-pound Epic. smollett's England. Smollett never wrote a contin- uation to Hume's History, but the booksellers wanting a continuation of Hume, took that portion of Smollett's history from the Revo- lution to the death of George II, and printing it in five volumes in 1791, called it Smollett's Contin- uation of Hume. Mr. Dibdin says it was first published in 17 63, but that was the continuation of Smollett's own history from 1748, which was brought down to the end of 1765, and the last volume not being reprinted in the book- seller's edition gave occasion to the report that it was suppressed by authority, because it contained the only mention of the first ap- pearance of the late king's mala- dy in 1765.- Gent. Mag. Nov. 1824. BOOKSELLER AND AUTHOR. Un libraire et un auteur sont deux especes de filoux, qui ne peuvent 1'un sans 1'autre attraper 1'argent du public.-Lesage. BOOKSELLERS THE PATRONS OF Johnson has dignified the book- sellers as " the patrons of litera- ture," which was generous in that great author, who had written well and lived but ill all his life on that patronage. Eminent booksellers, in their constant intercourse with the most enlightened class of the community, that is, with the best authors and the best readers, par- take of the intelligence around LITERATURE. BOOKS, BOOKSELLERS, AND BIBLIOMANIACS. 53 Johnson's dictionary. was offered him, the price demand- ed for it, which was a hundred and twenty pounds, being such as he was not inclined to give pre- cipitately, he carried the work to Pope, who having looked into it, advised him not to make a nig- gardly offer, for " this was no ev- ery day writer."- Hutchinson's Biog. Medica. Mr. Andrew Millar, bookseller in the Strand, took the principal charge in conducting the publica- tion of Johnson's Dictionary; and as the patience of the propri- etors was repeatedly tried, and almost exhausted, by their expect- ing that the work would be com- pleted within the time which Johnson had sanguinely supposed, the learned author was often goaded to dispatch, more espe- cially as he had received all the copy money by different drafts, a considerable time before he had finished his task. When the mes- senger who carried the last sheet to Millar returned, Johnson asked him, "Well, what did he say?" " Sir," answered the messenger, " he said, ' Thank God, I have done with him.' " " I am glad," replied Johnson with a smile, "that he thanks God for any- thing."-Boswell's Life of John- son. BOOK AUCTIONS. The first book auction in Eng- land, of which there is any record, was in 1676, when the library of Dr. Seaman was brought to the hammer. Prefixed to the cata- logue there is an address to the reader, saying, " Though it has been unusual in England to make sale of books by auction, yet it hath been practiced in other coun- tries to advantage." For general purposes this mode of sale was scarcely known till 1700.-Jeno- way's Notes. As Frankfort monopolizes the trade in wine, so Leipsig monopo- lizes the trade in books. It is here that every German author (and in no country are authors so numer- ous) wishes to produce the child- ren of his brain, and that, too, only during the Easter fair. He will submit to any degree of ex- ertion that his work may be ready for publication by that important season, when the whole brother- hood is in labor, from the Rhine to the Vistula. If the auspicious moment pass away, he willingly bears his burthen twelve months longer, till the next advent of the bibliopolical Lucina. This period- ical littering at Leipsig does not BOOK TRADE OF LEIPSIG. akenside's pleasures of IMAGINATION. In 1744 appeared before the public Akenside's Pleasures of Imagination, which so long as genius holds an admirer, will ever be valued for chasteness of design, purity of morals, and all that pleasing witchery which marks the healthful offspring of genuine poetry. It was welcomed as a work of such intrinsic worth ought to be welcomed. From its sale the author's finances were im- proved and his fame established. Dr. Johnson mentions that he has heard Dodsley (by whom it was published) say, that when the copy 54 BOOKS, BOOKSELLERS, AND BIBLIOMANIACS. at all arise, as is sometimes sup- posed, from all pr most of the books being printed there; Leip- sig has only its own proportion of printers and publishers. It arises from the manner in which this branch of trade is carried on in Germany. Every bookseller of any eminence, throughout the con- federation, has an agent or com- missioner in Leipsig, to whom he applies for whatever books he may want, whether published there or elsewhere. The whole book trade of Germany thus centres in Leip- sig. Wherever books may be printed, it is there they must be bought; it is there that the trade is supplied. Before the end of the sixteenth century the book-fair was estab- lished. It prospered so rapidly that, in 1600, the Easter catalogue, which has been annually printed ever since, was printed for the first time. It now presents every year, in a thick octavo volume, a collec- tion of new books and new editions to which there is no parallel in Europe. At the fair all the brethren of the trade flock to- gether in Leipsig, not only from every part of Germany, but from every European country where German books are sold, to settle accounts and examine the harvest of the year. The number always amounts to several hundreds, and they have built an exchange for themselves. Yet a German publisher has less chance of making great profits, and a German author has fewer prospects of turning his manu- script to good account, than the same classes of persons in any other country that knows the value of intellectual labor. Each state of the confederation has its own law of copyright, and an author is secured against piracy only in the state where he prints. If the book be worth anything it is im- mediately reprinted in some neigh- boring state, and as the pirate pays nothing for the copyright, he can obviously afford to undersell the original publisher. Such a system almost annihilates the value of literary labor. The un- pleasing exterior of ordinary Ger- man printing, the coarse watery paper, and worn-out types, must be referred, in some measure, to the same cause. The publisher, or author, naturally risks as little capital as possible in the hazard- ous speculation. Besides, it is his interest to diminish the tempta- tion to reprint, by making his own edition as cheap as may be. The system has shown its effects, too, in keeping up the frequency of publication by subscription, even among authors of the most settled and popular reputation. Klop- stock, after the Messiah had fixed his name, published in this way. There has been no more success- ful publisher than Cotta, and no German writer has been so well repaid as Gothe, yet the last Tu- bingen edition of Gothe himself is adorned with a long list of sub- scribers. What would we think of Byron or Campbell, of Scott oi' Moore, publishing a new poem by subscription?-liusseWs 1'our in Germany. BINDING OF BOOKS. King Alphonsus, about to lay BOOKS, BOOKSELLERS, AND BIBLIOMANIACS. 55 the foundation of a castle at Na- ples, called for Vitruvius, his booke of architecture; the booke was brought in very bad case, all dustie and without covers ; which the king observing said, " Hee that must cover us all, must not goe uncovered himselfe; " then commanded the booke to be faire- ly bound and brought unto him. " So say I, suffer them not to lie neglected, who must make you re- garded ; and goe in torne coates, who must apparell your minde with the ornaments of knowledge, above the roabes and riches of the most magnificent princes.-Peach- am's Compleat Gentleman, 1627. even fastened with gold or silver chains.-Philip Bliss, Oxen. EAKLY ENGLISH LIBRARIES. Never had we been offended for the loss of our libraries, being so many in number, and in so desolate places for the most part, if the chief monuments and most notable works of our excellent writers had been reserved. If there had been in every shire of England but one Solempne Libra- ry, to the preservation of those noble works, and preferment of good learning in our posterity, it had been yet somewhat. But to destroy all without consideration is, and will be, unto England for- ever, a most horrible infamy among the grave seniors of other nations. A great number of them which purchased those superstiti- ous mansions, reserved of those library-books, some to serve the jakes, some to scour their candle- sticks, and some to rub their boots. Some they sold to the grocers and soap-sellers ; some they sent over sea to the book-binders, not in small number, but at times whole ships full, to the wondering of the foreign nations. Yea, the univer- sities of this realm are not all clear of this detestable fact. But, cursed is that belly which seeketh to be fed with such ungodly gains, and shameth his natural country. I know a merchantman, which shall at this time be nameless, that bought the contents of two noble libraries for forty shillings price ; a shame it is to be spoken 1 This stuff hath he occupied in the stead of gray paper, by the space of more than ten years, and yet he PRESERVATION OF BINDINGS. It was supposed that a binding of Russian leather secured books against insects, but the contrary was recently demonstrated at Paris by two volumes pierced in every direction. The first book-binder in Paris, Bozerian, told me he knew of no remedy except to steep the blank leaves in muriatic acid. -Pinkerton's Recoil, of Paris. MODE OF PLACING BOOKS IN ANCIENT LIBRARIES. It may not be known to those who are not accustomed to meet with old books in their original bindings, or of seeing public libra- ries of antiquity, that the volumes were formerly placed on the shelves with the leaves, not the back, in front; and that the two sides of the binding were joined together with neat silk or other strings, and in some instances, where the books were of greater value and curiosity than common, 56 BOOKS, BOOKSELLERS, AND BIBLIOMANIACS. hath store enough for as many years to come !-Bale's Preface to the Laboryouse Journey of Leland. aldson, sir, is anxious for the en- couragement of literature. He reduces the price of books so that poor students may buy them." Johnson (laughing): "Well, sir, allowing that to be his motive, he is no better than Robin Hood, who robbed the rich in order to give to the poor."-Boswell's Life of Johnson. Mr. Alexander Donaldson, book- seller, of Edinburg, had foi' some time opened a shop in London and sold his cheap editions of the most popular English books, in defiance of the supposed common law right of literary property. Dr. John- son, though he concurred in the opinion which was afterwards sanctioned by a judgment of the House of Lords, that there was no such right, was at this time very angry that the booksellers of London, for whom he uniform- ly professed much regard, should suffer from an invasion of what they had ever considered to be se- cure, and he was loud and violent against Mr. Donaldson. "He is a fellow who takes advantage of the law to injure his brethren; for notwithstanding that the statute secures only fourteen years of ex- clusive right, it has always been understood by the trade that he who buys the copyright of a book from the author obtains a perpetu- al property; and, upon that belief, numberless bargains are made to transfer that property after the expiration of the statutory term. Now Donaldson, I say, takes ad- vantage here of people who have really an equitable title from usage ; and if we consider how few of the books of which they buy the property succeed so well as to bring profit, we should be of opinion that the term of fourteen years is too short; it should be sixty years." Dempster: " Don- LITERARY PROPERTY. BARGAIN-HUNTERS. You will perhaps be surprised when I inform you that there are in London (and I suppose, in other populous places),persons who pur- chase every article which they have occasion for (and also many articles which they have no occa- sion for, nor ever will) at stalls, beggarly shops, pawnbrokers, etc., under the idea of purchasing cheaper than they could at respect- able shops, and of men of proper- ty. A considerable number' of these customers I had in the be- ginning, who forsook my shop as soon as I began to appear more respectable, by introducing better order, possessing more valuable books, and having acquired a bet- ter judgment, etc. Notwithstand- ing which, I declare to you upon my honor, that these very bargain- hunters have given me double the price that I now charge for thou- sands and tens of thousands of volumes. For, as a tradesman in- creases in respectability and opu- lence, his opportunities of purchas- ing increase proportionally, and the more he buys and sells the more he becomes a judge of the real value of his goods. It was for want of the experience and judgment, stock, etc., that for BOOKS, BOOKSELLERS, AND BIBLIOMANIACS. 57 several years I was in the habit of charging more than double the price I do for many thousand ar- ticles. But professed bargain- hunters often purchase old locks at the stalls in Moorfields, when half the wards are rusted off, or taken out, and give more for them than they would have paid for new ones to any reputable iron- monger. And what numer- ous instances of this infatuation do we meet with daily at sales by auction, not of books only, but of many other articles, of which I could here adduce a variety of glaring instances. At the sale of Mr. Rigby's books at Mr. Chris- tie's, Martin's Dictionary of Natu- ral History sold for fifteen guineas, which then stood in my catalogue at four pounds fifteen shillings; Pilkington's Dictionary of Paint- ers, at seven guineas, usually sold at three; Francis's Horace, two pounds eleven shillings ; and many others in the same manner. At Sir George Colebrook's sale the octavo edition of the Tatler sold for two guineas and a half. At a sale a few weeks since Rapin's History in folio, the two first vol- umes only (instead of five) sold for upwards of five pounds! I charge for the same from ten shil- lings and sixpence to one pound ten shillings. I sell great num- bers of books to pawnbrokers, who sell them out of their windows at much higher prices, the purchas- ers believing that they are buying bargains, and that such articles have been pawned. And it is not only books that pawnbrokers pur- chase, but various other matters, and they always purchase the worst kind of every article they sell. I will even add, that many shops which are called pawnbrok- ers never take in any pawn, yet can live by selling things which are supposed to be kept overtime. -Lockington's Memoirs. FIRST ENGLISH ALMANAC. The first almanac in England was printed in Oxford, in 1673. " There were," says Wood, "near thirty thousand of them printed, besides a sheet almanac for two- pence, that was printed for that year; and because of the novelty of the said almanac, and its title, they were all vended. Its sale was so great, that the Society of Booksellers in London bought off the copy for the future, in order to engross the profits in their own hands." ALMANAC WEATHER WISDOM. An English paper tells a pleas- ant anecdote of Partridge, the cele- brated almanac maker, about one hundred years since. In travel- ing on horseback into the country, he stopped for his dinner at an inn, and afterwards called for his horse, that he might reach the next town, where he intended to sleep. "If you will take my advice, sir," said the hostler, as he was about to mount his horse, "you will stay where you are for the night, as you will surely be over- taken by a pelting rain." " Nonsense, nonsense," ex- claimed the almanac maker; "there is a sixpence for you, my honest fellow, and good afternoon to you." He proceeded on his journey, 58 BOTANISTS AND BOTANY. and sure enough he was well drenched in a heavy shower. Partridge was struck by the man's prediction, and being always in- tent on the interest of his alma- nac, he rode back on the instant, and was received by the hostler with a broad grin. "Well, sir, you see I was right after all." "Yes, my lad you have been so, and here is a crown for you ; but I give it to you on condition that you tell me how you knew of this rain." "To be sure, sir," replied the man; " why, the truth is, we have an almanac at our house called Partridge's Almanac, and the fel- low is such a notorious liar, that whenever he promises us a fine day, we always know that it will be the direct contrary. Now, your honor, this day, the 21st of June, is put down in our almanac in- doors as 'settled fine weather; no rain.' I looked at that before I brought your honor's horse out, and so was enabled to put you on your guard." BOTANISTS AND BOTANY. hardy trees, shrubs, and animals, than any one had done before him; namely, 53 woods and 145 herba- ceous plants, making, altogether, 198 species, for the most part quite new. These plants being hardy enough to bear the climate of Europe, have multiplied to an incredible extent in England, as well as on the Continent, so that one scarcely ever sees a garden, however humble, that is without some of these ornaments. Hav- ing done so much in America, Douglas went to the Sandwich Isl- ands, where he fell a sacrifice to his ardent zeal, being gored to death by a wild bull, caught in a pit dug by the natives, and into which the unfortunate traveler fell. He was only thirty-six years old. If we consider the powerful moral influ- ence which floriculture exerts on mankind, we may assuredly rank that young man among those who have honorably sacrificed their DAVID DOUGLAS-HIS ARDOR AND DEVOTEDNESS. The introduction of ornamental plants from abroad was effected, in former days, by diplomatic per- sons, merchants, or travelers, who interested themselves about such things, and forwarded or took them home. Afterwards travel- ing botanists, especially those ac- companied by skillful gardeners, were the chief promoters of such importations. More recently our shrubberies and pleasure-grounds have been enriched by scientific gardeners sent abroad expressly for that purpose. Among the lat- ter class, no one deserves greater credit than David Douglas. Be- ing sent out by the Horticultural Society of London to the northern States of America, and its north- west coast, especially the banks of the river Columbia, he introduced into England a greater number of BOTANISTS AND BOTANY. 59 lives in the performance of their duty, not less than the soldier who dies on the field of battle. eration, though it was not left be- hind. Having thus detained the mail for a few minutes, the party resumed their seats, highly pleas- ed with their successful botanical adventure. DR. ROBERT GRAHAM OF EDINBURGH. Dr. Ransford, in a biographical sketch read before the Harveian Society of Edinburgh of the late Dr. Graham, relates that when that ardent botanist was on an ex- cursion in Ireland, in order to ob- tain a desired specimen, he had re- course to a stratagem, which, for the benefit of future tourists, it may be useful to mention. The incident was related to Dr. R. by an eye-witness. When traveling from Galway to Ballinasloe on Bianconi's mail car, Dr. Graham noticed Nepeta Cataria at the side of the road. This being a plant which had not been gathered during the trip, he was anxious to get some of it. To have asked the drivei- of her Majesty's mail to stop for such a purpose would have been deemed Quixotic; he therefore intentionally dropped his hat, and immediately his compan- ions, previously made aware of the trick, shouted loudly to Paddy, whose politeness induced him in- stantly to pull up. Dr. Graham's anxiety to get at the plant was so great the he jumped from the car before it had fully stopped, and received a very severe abrasion of his arm. In spite of this, how- ever, he and the rest of the party rushed to the spot where the Ne- peta was growing, and, to the no small surprise of their fellow-pas- sengers, proceeded to pull large quantities of it, the hat being, of course, a minor object of consid- sir j. e. smith - Linnaeus's HERBARIUM. The stranger whose predilec- tions are botanical will not be long in London till he turns aside from the heady current and dis- tracting turmoil of its great thor- oughfares, into the comparative seclusion and tranquillity of Sohp Square, to pay a pilgrim's hom- age at a shrine which commands the veneration of botanists from all quarters of the world. In a quiet nook of the square is the suit of rooms occupied by the Linnsean Society. The house formerly belonged to Sir Joseph Banks, and was for many years the rendezvous of the savans of England, and the resort of scien- tific foreigners visiting the me- tropolis. It is now the repository of the herbarium of Linnaeus, that collection of plants which furnished the illustrious Swede with the materials for the con- struction of the artificial method of classification, with an ultimate view to the establishment of the more philosophical system which has since taken its place, founded on the natural alliances of plants. It was in this collection that Lin- naeus studied the characters of in- dividual plants, and accumulated the observations which have en- abled succeeding botanists to group them into families. There is a little history con- 60 BOTANISTS AND BOTANY. nected with the herbarium, which may prove interesting to other than botanical readers. Sir James Edward Smith, the eminent Eng- lish botanist, was, when a young man, a constant visitor at Sir Jo- seph Banks's, to whom he had recommended himself by his taste for natural history. It was in this house, in 1783, that he learned from his patron that the library and natural history collections of Linnaeus had been offered to him for a thousand guineas. After a life of labor and vicissitude, Lin- naeus had died at Upsal, full of honors and even of wealth, in 1778, in the seventy-first year of his age. He had twenty years before been elevated to the nobil- ity, and assumed the title of Von Linne. Still greater honors were paid to his memory after his death. His remains were borne to their resting-place in the cathedral of Upsal by members of his uni- versity, sixteen doctors of medi- cine, his former pupils, supporting the funeral pall. A general mourning of the citizens showed that his death was felt to be a public loss. King Gustavus II caused a medal to be struck in commemoration of his name; and attended a meeting of the Royal Academy of Sciences at Stock- holm, held in honor of the mem- ory of the great naturalist. In his speech from the throne, Gus- tavus lamented the death of Lin- naeus as a public calamity. It seems strange that in so brief a period as five years after these national tributes were paid to his memory, a portion of his property so identified with his scientific fame, as his books and collections in natural history, should have been offered for sale in England. But although Linnzeus, while he lived, had enjoyed the esteem both of his countrymen and of foreign- ers, and, after his death, was em- balmed in their remembrances, his honor and happiness had been betrayed by the relative who, of all others, should have most dear- ly cherished them ; whose tyran- nical disposition and unnatural treatment of her own offspring had deprived his home of all that should have constituted it the sanctuary of his affections; and whose sordid parsimony was now eager to convert his collections into money, and send away for ever, from the country which claimed him as the most distinguished of her sons, the priceless inheritance of his scientific treasures. The eldest son of Linnaeus, who was sedulously following in the foot- steps of his father, and had al- ready proved himself not unwor- thy to share in his renown, was, in consequence of the mercenary conduct of his mother, obliged to purchase, at her own price, the books and collections, including the herbarium, which were his own by birthright. He died in 1783, and his books, plants, etc., reverted to his mother and sisters. The offer of sale made to Sir Jo- seph Banks was at the instance of the mother, who was thus mak- ing merchandise a second time of the collections of the great natu- ralist. Sir Joseph declined to avail himself of the offer, but recommended the purchase to Smith, then a student of medicine. BOTANISTS AND BOTANY. 61 He made the purchase, and the possession of Linnaeus's collec- tions determined his future pur- suit as a botanist. " Though en- thusiasm and love of fame," remarks Lady Smith in his me- moirs, " had perhaps some influ- ence, a love of science and of truth had greater still. He said to oth- ers, ' The fairest flower in the garden of creation is a young mind, offering and unfolding itself to the influence of Divine wisdom, as the heliotrope turns its sweet blossoms to the sun and may it not be said of him that taste and virtue fixed his choice?" The number of volumes was upwards of 2000, including some valuable manuscripts ; there were 3198 in- sects ; 1564 shells; 2424 miner- als; and 19,000 plants. Deduct- ing a small herbarium which belonged to young Linnaeus, and contained no species that were not included in the great collection, Smith obtained the whole for 900 guineas; but the entire cost, in- cluding the freight, ultimately amounted to £1088. Through the intervention of Sir John Jer- vis, afterwards Earl St. Vincent, and at this period one of the members for Great Yarmouth, an order was obtained from the Treasury passing the whole col- lection, except the books, free of Custom-house duty. It was in October, 1784, that a ship, named The Appearance, was freighted with the precious treasures. The vessel had just left the shores of Sweden, when King Gustavus III, who had been absent in France, returned to his dominions, and on learning that the herba- num and other monuments of the labors of the illustrious naturalist had been sent out of his native kingdom, he dispatched a frigate to the Sound to intercept the voy- age of The Appearance to Eng- land. But the latter vessel dis- tanced her pursuer, and the valu- able cargo was safely landed at the custom-house of London. This singular race between the two ves- sels has been commemorated in a pictorial representation. The event is still remembered in Sweden, as we learned from a botanist of that country whom we found employ- ed upon the herbaria of the Lin- naean Society. Sir James Smith's own views of the conduct of the Swedish nation in allowing the herbarium and other collections to be sold to a foreigner, were ex- pressed in the following terms, in a letter to Dr. Acrel, who had nego- tiated the bargain with him: "Be- tween ourselves, it is certainly a disgrace to the university (of Up- sal) that they suffered such a treasure to leave them; but if those who ought most to have loved and protected the immortal name of Linne failed in their duty, he shall not want a friend or an asylum while I live or have any power, though ever so small, to do him honor." After the death of Smith, the herbarium was purchased by the Linnaean Society of London of which he was the founder. The herbarium of Linnaeus con- tains only 10,000 species, which, along with duplicate specimens, are fixed upon 14,000 sheets of paper. At Kew, Sir William Hooker kindly showed us his her- 62 CHEMISTS AND CHEMISTRY. barium, containing about 140,000 species of flowering plants alone, being the largest an'd completest collection in the world. The dif- ference between the two collec- tions shows the progress which has been made in descriptive bot- any since the days of Linnaaus. The Swedish herbarium is con- tained in three plain wooden cases or presses, the doors of which still retain impressions of a series of illustrations in the forms of leaves, which were cut in tin and fastened upon the wood, and employed by Linnaeus in lecturing to his class. A royal Swedish physician, M. Pontin, has described the country residence and lecture room of Lin- naeus, at Hammarby, near Upsal, which he visited in 1834:-"The building containing Linnaeus's dwelling-house, consists of two houses, and is situated at the foot of a stony height, surrounded by large rocks, as if an earthquake had thrown the granite rocks around it. It was only here and there that a tree could find space enough to spring up among these rocky ruins ; and yet the lecture- room of Linnasus, so well known to the world, is found at the sum- mit of a majestic, uptowering pyr- amid, formed of them." It was here where he established his col- lections in every department of natural history, and, during the academical vacations, lectured eight hours a day, communicating his discoveries " to a select audi- ence, who lodged with the neigh- boring peasantry, so as to be al- ways present at these lectures, which were venerated as the say- ings of an oracle." The pious and grateful spirit of the illustri- ous naturalist was shown in the inscription over the entrance to his parlor-■" Dum faveat Coe- lum,"-" While it pleases Heav- en." We took advantage of the oblig- ing offer of the Curator to show us some of the more remarkable plants in the herbarium, and the simple style in which they were fastened upon very unpretending paper with the names written on the back of the sheet. Of all the collection, which plant could we select for examination so appro- priate as the modest and beautiful Linncea borealis 2 Sir James Smith, in the English Botany, ob- serves that " Linnaeus has traced a pretty fanciful analogy between his own early fate, and this ' little northern plant, long overlooked, depressed, abject, flowering early,' -and we may now add, more honored in its name than any other." It was the favorite plant of Linnaeus, who had it painted on his China vases and tea ser- vice. CHEMISTS AND CHEMISTRY. CAVENDISH-HIS ODDITIES. The following anecdotes of this eccentric chemist, betwixt whom and Watt lies the merit of the dis- covery of the nature of water, are CHEMISTS AND CHEMISTRY. 63 from the Life of the Hon. Henry Cavendish,by Dr. George Wilson: -"At this period (1785) Caven- dish's reputation was wide-spread, in spite of his solicitous endeavors to prevent himself becoming fa- mous. It may be well, therefore, to refer here to his position in London between the years 1783 and 1785, when his most remarkable chemic- al researches were either made or published. His town residence was close to the British Museum, at the corner of Montague Place and Gowei' street. Few visitors were admitted, but some found their way across the threshold, and have reported that books and apparatus formed its chief furni- ture. For the former, however, Cavendish set apart a separate mansion in Dean street, Soho. Here he had collected a large and carefully chosen library of works on science which he threw open to all engaged in research, and to this house he went for his own books as one would go to a circu- lating library, signing a formal receipt for such of the volumes as he took with him. " His favorite residence was a beautiful suburban villa at Clap- ham, which, as well as a street or row of houses in the neighbor- hood, now bears his name. ' The whole of the house at Clapham was occupied as workshops and laboratory.' ' It was stuck about with thermometers, rain-gauges, etc. A registering thermometer of Cavendish's own construction, served as a sort of landmark to his house. It is now in Professor Brande's possession.' A small portion only of the villa was set apart for personal comfort. The upper rooms constituted an astronomical observatory. What is now the drawing-room was the laboratory. In an adjoining room a forge was placed. The lawn was invaded by a wooden stage, from which access could be had to a large tree, to the top of which Cavendish, in the course of his astronomical, meteorological, elec- trical, or other researches, occa- sionally ascended. " The hospitalities of such a house are not likely to have been overflowing. Cavendish lived comfortably, but made no dis- play. His few guests were treat- ed, on all occasions, to the same fare, and it was not very sump- tuous. A Fellow of the Royal Society reports, ' that if any one dined with Cavendish he invari- ably gave them a leg of mutton, and nothing else.' Another Fel- low states that Cavendish ' seldom had company at his house, but on one occasion three or lour scien- tific men were to dine with him, and when his housekeeper came to ask what was to be got to din- ner, he said, 'a leg of mutton!' 'Sir, that will not be enough for five.' ' Well, then, get two,' was the reply.' " Dr. Thomas Thomson states of Cavendish :-" He was shy and bashful to a degree bordering on disease; he could not bear to have any person introduced to him, or to be pointed out in any way as a remarkable man. One Sun- day evening he was standing at Sir Joseph Banks', in a crowded room, conversing with Mr. Hatch- ett, when Dr. Ingenhousz, who 64 CHEMISTS AND CHEMISTRY. had a good deal of pomposity of manner, came up with an Austri- an gentleman in his'hand, and in- troduced him formally to Mr. Cavendish. He mentioned the titles and qualifications of his friend at great length, and said that he had been peculiarly anx- ious to be introduced to a philoso- pher so profound and so univer- sally known and celebrated as Mr. Cavendish. As soon as Dr. Ingenhousz had finished, the Aus- trian gentleman began, and as- sured Mr. Cavendish that his principal reason for coming to London was to see and converse with one of the greatest orna- ments of the age, and one of the most illustrious philosophers that ever existed. To all these high- flown speeches Mr. Cavendish answered not a word, but stood with his eyes cast down, quite abashed and confounded. At last, spying an opening in' the crowd, he darted through it with all the speed of which he was master, nor did he stop till he reached his carriage, which drove him directly home." Sir Humphry Davy, in addition to the eloquent eulogium passed on Cavendish, soon after his death, left this less studied but more graphic sketch of the philosopher amongst his papers :- " Caven- dish was a great man, with ex- traordinary singularities. His voice was squeaking, his manner nervous ; he was afraid of stran- gers, and seemed, when embar- rassed, even to articulate with difficulty. He wore the costume, of our grandfathers; was enorm- ously rich, but made no use of his wealth. He gave me once some bits of platinum, for my experiments, and came to see my results on the decomposition of the alkalies, and seemed to take an interest in them ; but he encour- aged no intimacy with any one. .... He lived, latterly, the life of a solitary, came to the club dinner, and to the Royal Society, but received nobody at his own house. He was acute, sagacious, and profound, and, I think, the most accomplished British philos- opher of his time." J. G. Children, Esq., was often in the company of Cavendish, and thus refers to his interviews with him: " I am now the father of the Royal Society Club. I remember Cavendish well, and have often dined at the Crown and Anchor with him. When I first became a member of the club I recollect seeing Cavendish on one occasion talking very earn- estly to Marsden, Davy, and Hatchett. I went up and joined the group, my eye caught that of Cavendish, and he instantly be- came silent; he did not say a word. The fact is he saw in me a strange face, and of a strange face he had a perfect horror. . . . He was thus, to appearance, a misanthrope, and still more a mis- ogynist. He was reported among his cotemporaries indeed, to have a positive dislike of women. Lord Burlington informs me, on the authority of Mr. Allnutt, an old inhabitant of Clapham, ' that Cavendish would never see a fe- male servant; and if an unfor- tunate maid ever showed herself she was immediately dismissed' CHEMISTS AND CHEMISTRY. 65 Lord Brougham tells us that Cavendish 'ordered his dinner daily by a note, which he left at a certain hour on the hall table, where the housekeeper was to take it, for he held no communi- cation with his female domestics from his morbid shyness.' " Dr. George Wilson, who has ably written the life of Cavendish, says, " He did not love, he did not hate, he did not hope, he did not fear, he did not worship as others do." He lived and died an almost passionless man. He communed with nature, and elicit- ed many of her hidden truths. " His brain seems to have been a calculating engine ; his eyes inlets of vision, not fountains of tears; his hands instruments of manipu- lation which never trembled with emotion, or were clasped together in adoration, thanksgiving, or despair ; his heart only an anato- mical organ necessary for the cir- culation of the blood." in which he made an approxima- tion to the specific gravity of that body, showing that it was at least ten times lighter than common air, Dr. Black invited a party of his friends to supper, informing them that he had a curiosity to show them. Dr. Hutton, Mr. Clark, of Eldin, and Sir George Clark, of Pennicuik, were of the number. When the company invited had assembled, he took them into a room. He had the allentois of a calf filled with hydrogen gas, and upon setting it at liberty, it im- mediately ascended and adhered to the ceiling. The phenomenon was easily accounted for: it was taken for granted that a small black thread had been attached to the allentois, that this thread passed through the ceiling, and that some one in the apartment above, by pulling the thread, ele- vated it to the ceiling, and kept it in this position. This explana- tion was so probable, that it was acceded to by the whole company: though, like many other plausible theories, it turned out wholly un- founded ; for when the allentois was brought down no thread whatever was found attached to it. Dr. Black explained the cause of the ascent to his admir- ing friends; but such was his carelessness of his own reputa- tion, and of the information of the public, that he never gave the least account of this curious ex- periment even to his class ; and more than twelve years elapsed before this obvious property of hydrogen gas was applied to the elevation of air-balloo'ns, by M. Charles, in Paris." DR. BLACK AND THE HYDROGEN GAS BALLOON. Dr. Thomson relates the fol- lowing anecdote of Dr. Black, the discoverer of carbonic acid gas and latent heat, in proof of his indifference to his personal reputation :-" There is an anec- dote of Black which I was told by the late Mr. Benjamin Bell, of Edinburgh, author of a well- known system of surgery, and he assured me that he had it from the late Sir George Clark, of Pennicuik, who was a witness of the circumstance related. Soon after the appearance of Mr. Cav- endish's paper on hydrogen gas, 66 CHEMISTS AND CHEMISTRY. SIR HUMPHRY DAVY-HIS IN- DUSTRY. some time, consciousness was re- stored, and Davy faintly uttered, as a consolation to his attendant, " I don't think I shall die." The unwonted honors paid to Davy as a lecturer, never relaxed the intensity with which he de- voted himself to his laboratory. Writing in 1809 to his mother, he says- " At present, except when I re- solve to be idle for health's sake, I devote every moment to labors which I hope will not be wholly ineffectual in benefiting society, and which will not be wholly in- glorious for my country hereafter; and the feeling of this is the re- ward which will continue to keep me employed." Cuvier, in his eloge of him officially made to the Institute, as a foreign member, referring to this period of his life, to his dis- coveries and reputation said,- " Davy, not yet thirty-two, in the opinion of all who could judge of such labors, held the first rank among the chemists of this or of any other age." Sir Humphry Davy, when ex- perimenting on the inhalation of gases, inspired a large quantity of carburetted hydrogen (the fire- damp of the coal-miners.) Cot- tle records that the first inspira- tion produced numbness and loss of feeling in the chest. After the second, he lost all power of perceiving external things, except a terrible oppression on his chest, and he seemed sinking fast to death. He just had conscious- ness enough to remove the mouth- piece from his unclosed lips, when he became wholly insensible. Af- ter breathing the common air for MICHAEL FARADAY HIS PER- SEVERANCE. Michael Faraday, England's most eminent chemist, was born in 1794, the son of a poor black- smith. He was early apprenticed to one Ribeau, a bookbinder, in Blandford Street, and worked at the craft until he was twenty-two years of age. Whilst an appren- tice, his master called the atten- tion of one of his customers (Mr. Dance, of Manchester Street,) to an electrical machine and other things which the young man had made; and Mr. Dance, who was one of the old members of the Royal Institution, took him to hear the four last lectures Sir Humphry Davy gave there as professor. Faraday attended, and seating himself in the gallery, took notes of the lectures, and at a future time sent his manuscript to Davy, with a short and mod- est account of himself, and a re- quest, if it were possible, for scientific employment in the la- bors of the laboratory. Davy, struck with the clearness and ac- curacy of the memoranda, and confiding in the talents and per- severance of the writer, offered him, upon the occurrence of a vacancy in the laboratory, in the beginning of 1813, the post of assistant which he accepted. At the end of the year he accompa- nied Davy and his lady over the Continent, as secretary and assist- ant, and in 1815 returned to his CHEMISTS AND CHEMISTRY. 67 duties in the laboratory, and ulti- mately became Fullerian Profes- sor. Mr. Faraday's researches and discoveries have raised him to the highest rank among Euro- pean philosophers, while his high faculty of expounding, to a gen- eral audience, the result of re- condite investigations, makes him one of the most attractive lectur- ers of the age. He has selected the most difficult and perplexing departments of physical science, the investigation of the reciprocal relations of heat, light, magnet- ism, and electricity; and by many years of patient and profound study, has tended greatly to sim- plify our ideas on these subjects. It is the hope of this philosopher that, should life and health be spared, he will be able to show that the imponderable agencies just mentioned are so many man- ifestations of one and the same force. Mr. Faraday's great achievements are recognized by the learned societies of every country in Europe ; and the Uni- versity of Oxford, in 1832, did itself the honor of enrolling him among the Doctors of Law. In private life he is beloved for the piety, simplicity, and truthfulness of his character, and the kindli- ness of his disposition. the groveling experimenters of the previous age, that of the al- chemists. In a work entitled " Physica Subterranea," he de- scribes chemists as a strange class of mortals, impelled by an almost insane impulse to seek their pleasure amongst smoke and va- por, soot and flame, poisons and poverty. " Yet amongst all these evils," says he, " I seem to my- self to live so sweetly, that may I die if I would change places with the Persian king. I trust that I have got hold of my pitch- er by the right handle-the true method of treating this study. For the pseudo-chemists seek gold; but the true philosophers, science, which is more precious than gold I" Although Dr. Priestley made known a great number of new gaseous bodies, he was never (says Dr. Thomson), strictly speaking, entitled to the name of chemist, as he was never able to make a chemical analysis. DR. PRIESTLEY. Methought I was exploring the hidden recesses of an extensive cave, whose winding passages had never before echoed to the tread of human foot. With ever-fresh admiration and delight, I was gazing at the thousand wonders which the flashing torch-light re- vealed on every side at each step of my progress, when a strange sound, as of the hum of many voices, fell upon my ear. What such a sound could mean in such THE chemist's DREAM. J. J. BECCHER HIS ENTHUSI- ASM. John Joachim Beecher, a Ger- man professor, may be quoted as an example of the buoyant and enthusiastic spirit which was evoked at the call of chemistry, in the infancy of that science, and as contrasting favorably with 68 CHEMISTS AND CHEMISTRY. a place was more than I could divine. Curiosity led me on in the di- rection whence it came. The buzz of conversation, cheerful as it yvould seem from the occasional bursts of merriment that were heard, grew more and more dis- tinct, until the dark and narrow passage I had been following, sud- denly opened upon one of those magnificent rock-parlors, of whose grandeur and beauty description can convey but a faint idea. A flood of light illuminated the arching roof with the vast col- umns of stalactite sparkling with crystals that supported it, and was reflected with imposing effect from the huge sheets of the same material, of the purest white, that hung from the ceiling in graceful but substantial drapery. I stood in one of nature's noblest halls- but not alone. A strange company had gather- ed there. " Black spirits and white, blue spirits and gray," were before me. A festive oc- casion had assembled in joyous mood and in holiday attire, the first-born of creation, the Ele- ments of things. In dreams, nothing ever sur- prises us. It seemed perfectly natural to see those fairy forms in that strange grotto; so, accosting without hesitation, the one nearest to me, I apologized for my intru- sion, and was about to withdraw. From my new acquaintance, how- ever, I received so cordial a wel- come, and so earnest an invitation to become a partaker in the fes- tivities, that I could not deny myself the pleasure of accepting the hospitality so kindly prof- fered. I was soon informed that some of the leading characters among the elements had resolved some weeks before upon having a gen- eral pic-nic dinner party. Fifty- six family invitations had accord- ingly been sent out, one to each of the brotherhood ; and prepara- tions for the feast made upon a most extensive scale. Sea and land had been ransacked for deli- cacies, and everything was put in requisition that could minister to the splendor of the entertainment or to the enjoyment of the occa- sion. At the hour I so unexpectedly came upon them, nearly all the guests with their families had as- sembled in the strange drawing- room I have described, awaiting the summons to the banquet. Spa- cious as that drawing-room was, it was nearly filled with these inter- esting children of nature. And here they were seen, not as in the chemist's laboratory, writhing in the heated crucible, or pent up in glassy prisons ; or peering out of gas-holders and Florentine flasks, but arrayed in their native beauty; each free as air, and acting as im- pulse prompted. There were those present of every hue, every style of dress, every variety of appearance. The metals, the gases, the salts, the acids, the oxides, the alkalies, all were there. From the mine, from the shop of the artizan, from the mint, from the depths of ocean, even, they had come; and a gay- er assemblage, a more animated scene, my eyes had never be- held. CHEMISTS AND CHEMISTRY. 69 Many of the ladies of the party were most tastefully attired. Chlo- rine wore a beautiful greenish-yel- low robe, that displayed her queen- like form to good advantage. The fair daughters of Chromium par- ticularly attracted my attention, with their gay dresses of the live- liest golden-yellow and orange-red. Iodine had but just arrived, and was not yet disencumbered of an unpretending outer garment of steel-gray that enveloped her per- son; but the warmth of the apart- ment soon compelled her to throw this aside; when she appeared ar- rayed in a vesture of thin gauze, of the most splendid violet color imaginable. Carbonic Acid was there, but not clad in the airy robes in which I expected to see her. The pressure of the iron hand of adversity had been upon her, and now her attire was plain, sim- ply a dress of snowy white ; the best which the straitened cir- cumstances to which she had been reduced allowed her to assume. Quite a contrast to her was her mother Carbon, whom you would have supposed to be a widow in deep mourning, or a nun who had taken the black, veil, so sable were her garments, so gloomy her coun- tenance, had not her ear-rings of polished jet, and a circlet of dia- monds that glittered on her brow, evinced that she had not yet alto- gether renounced the vanities of the world. The belle of the room appeared to be Nitrous Acid, the graceful daughter of Nitrogen; airy in all her movements, and with dress of deepest crimson, that cor- responded well with a lip and cheek rivaling the ruby in their redness. Among the lady-metals, too, there were many of bright faces and resplendent charms ; but I must pass on to a description of the gentlemen of the party. Sul- phur wore a suit of modest yel- low-plush, while Phosphorus quite disconcerted some of the most dec- orous matrons present, by making his appearance in a pair of flesh- colored tights. Phosphuretted Hydrogen, or, as he is nicknamed " Will of the Wisp," startled me by flitting by in a robe of living flame, the dress in which the graceless youngster is said to haunt church-yards and marshy places, playing his pranks upon poor benighted travelers. The king of the metals, Gold, ■was arrayed in truly gorgeous ap- parel ; though it must be confess- ed there was a glitter and an air of haughtiness about him, from which you would turn with pleas- ure to the mild sweet face of his royal sister, Silver, who leaned upon his arm ; a bright-eyed, un- assuming creature, of sterling worth. Mercury was there, as lively and versatile as ever; a most restless being; now by the ther- mometer, noting the subterranean temperature; now by the barom- eter, predicting a storm in the re- gions overhead; now arm-in-arm with this metal, then with that; they all, by the way, save stern old Iron, had hard work to shake him off. A strange character surely was he; a philosopher of un- common powers of reflection; 70 CHEMISTS AND CHEMISTRY. the veriest busy-body in the world; well versed in the art of healing; a practical amalgamationist; in short, a complete factotum. Po- tassium, though a decidedly bril- liant-looking fellow, manifested too much levity in his deportment to win respect, and was pro- nounced by those who knew him best, to be rather soft. In gravity, Platinum surpassed all the com- pany ; in natural brightness, Tin was outshone by few. WhenOxygen arrived, and his light, elastic tread was heard, and his clear, transparent countenance was seen among them, a murmur of congratulation ran round the drawing-room, and involuntarily, all assembled arose to do him hom- age. He was a patriarch indeed among them; literally a father to many of the younger guests. His arrival was the signal for adjourn- ment to the banqueting room, where of right he took his seat at the head of the table. Touching the apartment we had now entered, I can only say that it was grand beyond description I It was lighted up with the radiance of noon-day, by an arch of flame intensely dazzling, produced by a curious apparatus which Galvan- ism, who excels in these matters, had contrived for the occasion, out of some materials with which his friends Zinc and Copper had fur- nished him. Festoons of ever- greens and wreaths of roses en- cirled the alabaster columns, and made the whole look like Fairy Land. But I must describe the table and its paraphernalia. The prepa- ration of the viands, I mean the baking, boiling, roasting, stewing, and the like-had been committed to Caloric, who has had long expe- rience in that department. The nobler of the metals had generously lent their costly services of plate, while Carbon united with Iron to furnish the elegant steel cutlery used on the occasion. Alumina provided the fine set of china that graced the table; and Silex and Potash, without solicitation, sent, as their joint contribution, cut- glass pitchers and tumblers, of superior pattern and transpa- rency. As among these sons of nature there is no craving for artificial excitement, Oxygen and Hydrogen (who, by the way, have done more for the cold water societies than Delavan or Father Mathew), were commissioned to provide the drinkables; and what beverage they furnished may easily be con- jectured. Carbon, with Oxygen and Hydrogen, found most of the vegetables; and Nitrogen, whose assistance as commissary here was indispensable, joined them in pro- curing the meats, under which the table groaned. No taste but would be satisfied with the va- riety ; no appetite but would be cloyed with the profusion of good things. Though the liberality of the four who have been named, left but little for their associates to contrib- ute, still some individual offerings to the feast deserve to be noticed. Thus the oysters, Carbonate of Lime had sent in the shell; the pyramids of ice-cream for the des- sert were provided by the daugh- ter of Chlorine and Sodium, who CHEMISTS AND CHEMISTRY. 71 was out several hours in the snow, engaged in freezing them; and the almonds and peaches came from the conservatory of Hydro- cyanic Acid, the druggist. After grace had been said by Affinity, who is a sort of chaplain to the elements, having officiated at the weddings of ail the married ones of the company, a vigorous onset was made upon the good things before them. At first all were too much engaged for conver- sation ; but the dessert appearing at last, as they cracked the nuts the jest, too, was cracked; toast and song were called for, and wit and innocent hilarity became the order of the day. Even Oxygen, who had presided with such an air of dignity, relaxed from his stern- ness, and entertained the younger ones at his table with many a tale of his mischievous pranks in the days of old Father Chaos, when time and himself were young. Strange tales they were, too, of earthquakes with which Hydro- gen and he would now and then frighten the Ichthyosauri and Megatheria of the ancient world ; and of conflagrations comical as old Vulcan's tongs and anvil, kindling them before his eyes with the very bolt he was forging. "This, however," he added, with a sly glance at his staid partner Nitrogen, who sat near, " was be- fore marriage had sobered down his spirits and tamed his impetu- osity." 1 have no space to chronicle more of these freaks of Oxygen's early youth, nor any of the sayings and doings of others of the party on this memorable night. Else would I give the marvelous story Nickel had to relate, of a falling out he once had with the Man in the Moon, and of a journey he was consequently under the necessity of making in hot haste to the earth for refuge. I would tell, too, of the drolleries of Nitrous Oxide, that funniest, queerest, craziest of youngsters ; and how Phosphorus made a flaming speech, and Potash a caustic one; and how Mercury proposed as a toast, " The medical profession : to whom we say,4 Use us, but do not abuse us.' " I must speak, however, of a curious little by-scene I chanced to witness ; it was a flirtation that Platinum was carrying on with Hydrogen, whom much to my surprise, I found seat- ed among the Metals, and quite at home among them, too. There was quite a contrast between Pla- tinum, gray, heavy and dull as he was, and the light and buoyant creature by his side: but there soon seemed to be evidence of some mutual attraction. Platinum grew warm in his attentions, and ere long quite a flame was kindled between them. So passed the evening: all went 44 merry as a marriage-bell." with nothing to mar the good humor that prevailed; till, in an evil hour, Sulphuretted Hydrogen, a disa- greeable fellow, against whose ap- pearance at the banquet most of the company had protested, en- tered the apartment with a very offensive air. In an instant the whole family of Metals, to whom he was particularly obnoxious, changed color; Lead fairly grew black in the face with indignation; Arsenic and Antimony seemed to 72 CRITICS AND CRITICISM. be jaundiced with rage; Ammo- nia, to whom his presence recalled very unpleasant associations, in trying to avoid him, precipitated several Metallic Oxides to the floor; while Chlorine, with more self-command than the rest, ad- vanced with a firm step to expel the intruder, looking as if she were about to annihilate him on the spot. How the scene might have ter- minated I know not; for just at that moment a strange sound, of awful import, like the tramping of a mighty host, came to my ears: I felt sure it was " an earthquake's voice," and that now my fate was sealed ! My knees tottered under me; the arching grotto and the festive board gradually vanished from before my eyes, which opened upon the class, as they were leaving the laboratory of our wor- thy professor of chemistry, where it seemed, much to my confusion, I had fallen asleep during lecture, and " Dreamed a dream in the midst of my slum- bers." -Dr. House, in Knickerbocker, an American publication. CRITICS AND CRITICISM. A TRUE CRITIC, king; and as the passages were a-reading before him, he often said, " That if there were no more men in England, the rogue should hang for it." At last being come to the conclusion, which was (af- ter all his railing)- "Now God. preserve the king, the queen, the peers, And grant the author long may wear his ears." This pleased his majesty so well, that he broke into a laughter, and said, " By my soul, so thou shalt for me. Thou art a bitter, but thou art a witty knave."-Howels Let- ters, 1621. In the perusal of a book, is like a dog at a feast, whose thoughts and stomach are wholly set upon what the guests ding away, and consequently is apt to snarl most when there are the fewest bones. -Dean Swift, Tale of a Tub. SHERIDAN. Sheridan had a very convenient formula for acknowledging all the new publications that were con- stantly sent him :- " Dear sir, I have received your exquisite work, and I have no doubt I shall be highly delighted after I have read it" FRANCIS JEFFREY ULTIMUS ROMANORUM. A ROYAL CRITIC KING JAMES THE FIRST. He prepared himself for what he did by judicious early industry. He then chose the most difficult spheres in which talent can be exerted, and excelled in them all; rising from obscurity and depend- As I remember some years since, there was a very abusive satire in verse brought to our CRITICS AND CRITICISM. 73 ence to affluence and renown. His splendor as an advocate was exceeded by his eminence as a judge. He was the founder of a new sj stem of criticism, and this a higher one than had ever exist- ed. As an editor, and as a writer, he did as much to improve his country and the ■world as can al- most ever be done, by discussion, by a single man. He was the last of four preeminent Scotch- men, who, living in their own country, raised its character and extended its reputation during the period of his career. The other three were Dugald Stewart, Wal- ter Scott, and Thomas Chalmers; each of whom, in literature, phi- losophy, or policy, caused great changes; and each left upon his age the impression of the mind that produced them. Jeffrey, though surpassed in genius cer- tainly by Scott, and perhaps by Chalmers, was inferior to none of them in public usefulness, or in the beauty of the means by which he achieved it, or in its probable duration. The elevation of the public mind was his peculiar glory. In one respect alone he was un- fortunate. The assaults which he led against error were efforts in which the value of his personal ser- vices can never be duly seen. His position required him to dissipate, in detached and nameless exertions, as much philosophy and beautiful composition as would have sus- tained avowed and important ori- ginal works. He has raised a great monument, but it is one on ■which his own name is too faintly engraved.-Life by Lord Cock- burn. Jeffrey's marriage. The marriage took place on November 1, 1801. It had all the recommendations of poverty. His father, who was in humble circumstances, assisted them a very little ; but Miss Wilson had no fortune, and Jeffrey had told his brother, only six months be- fore, that " my profession has nev- er yet brouyht me £100 a-year, yet I have determined to venture up- on this new state." It shows a re- liance on Providence scarcely to be equaled in this degenerate age, and indicates such resolutions of economy as would terrify any less magnanimous adventurer. His brother having asked him to de- scribe his wife, he did so, as I think, who came to know her well, with great accuracy. " You ask me to describe my Catharine to you ; but I have no talent for de- scription, and put but little faith in full-drawn characters ; besides, the original is now so much a part of myself, that it would not be de- cent to enlarge very much, either upon her excellencies or her im- perfections. It is proper, howev- er, to tell you, in sober earnest, that she is not a showy or remark- able girl, either in person or char- acter. She has good sense, good manners, good temper, and good hands, and above all, I am per- fectly sure, that she has a good heart, and that it is mine without reluctance or division." She soon secured the respect and esteem of all his friends,and made her house, and its society, very agreeable. Their first home was in Buccleuch Place, one of the new parts of the 74 CRITICS AND CRITICISM. old town, not in either the eighth or the ninth stories, neither of which ever existed, but in the third story, of what is now No. 18 of the street. His domestic arrange- ments were set about with that honorable economy which always enabled him to practice great gen- erosity. There is a sheet of pa- per containing an inventory, in his own writing, of every article of furniture that he went the length of getting, with the prices. His own study was only made com- fortable at the cost of £7, 18s.; the banqueting hall rose to £13, 8s., and the drawing room actual- ly amounted to £22, 19s.-Life by Lord Cockburn. there were, as we afterwards found, two oi' three of his attached friends, (and no man, I believe, could ever boast of a greater num- ber) who, in their anxiety for his safety, had accompanied him and were hovering about the spot. And then was it that, for the first time, my excellent friend Jeffrey and I met face to face. He was standing with the bag, which con- tained the pistols, in his hand, while Horner was looking anx- iously around. It was agreed that the spot where we found them, which was screened on one side by large trees, would be as good for our purpose as any we could select; and Horner, after express- ing some anxiety respecting some men whom he had seen suspic- iously hovering about, but who now appeared to have departed, retired with Hume behind the trees for the purpose of loading the pistols, leaving Jeffrey and myself together. All this had oc- cupied but a very few minutes. We, of course, had bowed to each other at meeting; but the first words I recollect to have passed between us was Jeffrey's saying, on our being left together, ' What a beautiful morning it is ! ' ' Yes,' I answered, with a slight smile, ' a morning made for better purpos- sesto which his only response was a. sort of assenting sigh. As our assistants were not, any more than ourselves, very expert at warlike matters, they were rather slow in their proceedings; and as Jeffrey and I walked up and down together, we came once in sight of their operations ; upon which I related to him, as rather apropos MOORE'S DUEL WITH JEFFREY. Francis Jeffrey having,in 1806, ■attacked Thomas Moore's Odes and Epistles, for their immorali- ty, in the Edingburgh Review, the poet resolved to challenge the crit- ic to mortal combat. Prelimina- ries were accordingly arranged for a hostile meeting at Chalk Farm. Moore borrowed his pistols from the poet Spencer, who sent the Bow Street officers to prevent the two little men from killing each other. The sequel is narrated by Moore in his diary : " I must have slept pretty well; for Hume, I remember had to wake me in the morning, and the chaise being in readiness, we set off for Chalk Farm. Hume had also taken the precaution of pro- viding a surgeon to be within call. On reaching the ground we found Jeffrey and his party already, ar- rived. I say his ' party,' for al- though Horner,only,was with him, CRITICS AND CRITICISM. 75 to the purpose, that Billy Egan, the Irish barrister, once said, when, as he was sauntering about in like manner, while the pistols were loading, his antagonist, a fiery little fellow called out to him angrily to keep his ground. ' Don't make yourself unaisy, my dear fellow,' said Egan, ' sure, isn't it bad enough to take the dose, without being by at the mix- ing up ?' Jeffrey had scarcely time to smile at this story, when our two friends, issuing from be- hind the trees, placed us at our respective posts, (the distance, I suppose, having been previously measured by them,) and put the pistols into our hands. They then retired to a little distance ; the pistols were on both sides rais- ed ; and we waited but the signal to fire, when some police officers, whose approach none of us had noticed, and who were within a second of being too late, rushed out from a hedge behind Jeffrey; and one of them striking at Jef- frey's pistol with his staff, knock- ed it to some distance into the field, while another running over to me, took possession also of mine. We were then replaced in our respective carriages, and con- veyed, crestfallen, to Bow Street." It is known that Moore and Jef- frey afterwards became cordial friends. without the rules of architecture; whereas, that of Tasso is like a neat palace, very regular and beautiful.- Crudeli. GRAY AND MASON PROGRESS OF AN EPITAPH. The poet of the English Gar- den and the Heroic Epistle was proud to obtain the critical judg- ment of the author of the Elegy; and Gray, it must be said, was a fastidious critic, who dwelt on words and expressions with a fine sense of the delicacy and strength of the English language. Gray composed slowly-weighing every word in a sovereign scale. Ma- son, on the other hand was a rapid writer-seldom attending to the subtle distinctions to be met with in words. Words, indeed-to use his own expression to the contrary about Gray-digested easily with him. Gray has hit off this defect in his friend in one of his letters: -" Why, you make no more, dear Mason," he says, " of writing an ode, and throwing it into the fire, than of buckling and unbuckling your shoe." To which the other replies, as we now learn for the first time-" Pray, Mr. Gray, why won't you make your muse do now and then a friendly turn ? An idle slut as she is ! if she was to throw out her ideas never so carelessly, it would satisfy some folks that I know, but I won't name names." Yet Mason was afraid of what, after Pope, he calls " the desperate hook " of Gray:-and Gray, when he heard that Mason was concocting An Elegy in the Garden of a Friend, writes by way of post- TASSO AND ARIOSTO. Menzine, in his Poetics, gives the truest idea of Ariosto's and Tasso's rival poems of any of our writers. The poem of the for- mer, says he, is like a vast palace, very richly furnished, but built 76 CRITICS AND CRITICISM. script-■" Send me the Elegy,- my hoe is sharp." Another instance in which we obtain the critical judgment of Gray, relates to Mason's Epitaph on the daughter of Archbishop Drummond: " I dined lately at Bishop- thorpe, when the archbishop took me into his closet, and, with many tears, begged me to write an epi- taph on his daughter. In our con- versation he touched so many unison strings of my heart (for we both of us wept like children), that I could not help promising him that I would try, if possible, to oblige him. The result you have on the opposite page. If it either is or can be made a decent thing, assist me with your judg- ment immediately, for what I do about it I would do quickly, and I can do nothing neither, if this will not do without correction. It cannot be expected, neither would I wish it, to be equal to what I have written from my heart upon my heart's heart. Give me, I beg, your own sentiments upon it as soon as possible. To conclude, I wish heartily to be with you, but cannot fix a time, for I was obliged to invite Mr. Robinson and the Wadsworths hither, and I have not received their answer. In my next per- haps I can speak more determi- nately. My best compliments to Dr. and Mrs. Wharton, and best wishes for the continuance of Mr. Brown's beatifications.-Yours, cordially, W. Mason." Epitaph on Miss Drummond. Hence, stoic apathy to hearts of stone : A Christian sage with dignity can weep. See mitred Drummond heave the heartfelt groan, Where the cold ashes of his daughter sleep. Here sleeps what once was beauty, once was grace, Grace that express'd in each benignant smile, That dearest harmony of soul and face, When beauty glories to be virtue's foil. Or thus, That sweetest sympathy of soul and face, When beauty only blooms as virtue's foil. Such was the maid, that, in the noon of youth, In virgin innocence, in nature's pride, Grac'd with each liberal art and crown'd with truth, Sunk in her father's fond embrace, and died. He weeps. 0 venerate the holy tear! Faith soothes his sorrows, lightens all their load; Patient he spreads his child upon her bier, And humbly yields an angel to his God. Gray's reply is, as usual, to the point: " Old Park, Sunday, July 19, 1767. 11 Dear Mason,-I come forth- with to the epitaph which you have had the charity to write at the Archbishop's request. It will certainly do (for it is both touch- ing and new), but yet will require much finishing. I like not the first three lines; it is the party most nearly concerned, at least some one closely connected, and bearing a part of the loss, that is usually supposed to speak on these occasions, but these lines appear to be written by the chaplain, and have an air of flattery to his pa- tron. All that is good in them is better expressed in the four last verses ; " where the cold ashes," etc. These five verses are well, except the word ' benignant,' and CRITICS AND CRITICISM. 77 the thought (which is not clear to me, besides that it is somewhat hardly expressed) of ' when beau- ty only blooms,' etc. In gems that want color and perfection, a foil is put under them to add to their lustre. In others, as in diamonds, the foil is black ; and in this sense, when a pretty woman chooses to appear in public with a homely one, we say she uses her as a foil. This puzzles me, as you neither mean that beauty sets off virtue by its contrast and opposition to it, nor that her virtue was so im- perfect as to stand in need of beauty to heighten its lustre. For the rest I read, ' that sweet- est harmony of soul,' etc.; ' such was the maid,' etc. All this to the end I much approve, except ' crowned with truth,' and ' light- ens all their load.' The first is not precise ; in the latter you say too much. ' Spreads his child,' too, is not the word. When you have corrected all these faults it will be excellent." A week later, this was followed by another letter: " Old Park, 26th July, 1767. "Dear Mason,-You are very perverse. I desire you would not think of dropping the design you had of obliging the Arch- bishop. I submitted my criti- cisms to your own conscience, and allowed the lattei' half to be ex- cellent, two or three little words excepted. If this will not do, for the future I must say (whatever you send me), that the whole is the most perfect thing in nature, which is easy to do when one knows it will be acceptable. Se- riously, I should be sorry if you did not correct these lines, and am interested enough for the par- ty (only upon your narrative) to wish he were satisfied in it, for I am edified when I hear of so mundane a man, that yet he has a tear for pity. By the way, I ventured to show the other epi- taph [on Mason's wife] to Dr. Wharton, and sent him brimful into the next room to cry. I be- lieve he did not hear it quite through, nor has he ever asked to see it again; and now will you not come and see him ?" Mason's rejoinder will repay at- tentive perusal: " Had you given me any hint, any lueur, how the three first lines might have been altered, it would have been charitable in- deed; but you say nothing, only that I must alter them. Now, in my conscience, to which you ap- peal, I cannot find fault with the sentiment which they contain; and yet, in despite of my con- science, if I thought that they im- plied the least shadow of a flat- tery to the Archbishop, I would wipe them out with a sponge dipped in the mud of the kennel. But I cannot think they do. I think, on the contrary, they give the composition that unity of thought which ought always to run through compositions of this kind ; for in my mind a perfect epitaph is a perfect epigram with- out a sting. N. B. This sen- tence in our Epistolce familiares cum notis variorum, will be ex- plained in a note of Dr. Bal- guy's, to the contentation of ev- 78 CRITICS AND CRITICISM. ery reader ; in the meantime, if you do not understand it yourself, console yourself with the pleasing idea that posterity will, and that is enough in reason. However, to show you my complacency, and in dread that you should ever do as you threaten, and call what- ever I send you the most perfect things in nature, I will sacrifice the first stanza on your critical al- tar, and let it consume either in flame or smudge as it choose. Then we begin, 'here sleeps,' a very poetical sort of ci git, or ' here lies,' and which I hope will not lead the reader to imagine a sentence lost. 1. Here sleeps what once was beauty, once was grace, 2. Grace with that native sentiment com- bined 8. To form that harmony of soul and face, 4. Where beauty shines the mirror of the mind. 5. Such was the maid, that, in the noon of youth, 6. In virgin innocence, in nature's pride, 7. Blest with each art that taste supplies or truth, 8. Sunk in her father's fond embrace and died. 9. He weeps. 0 ! venerate the holy tear; 10. Faith lends her aid to ease affliction's load: 11. The parent mourns the child upon her bier, 12. The Christian yields an angel to his God. -Various sections, pick and choose. 2. 'Inborn sentiment.' 3. ' Displayed (or diffused) that harmony,' etc. 7. ' That springs from taste or truth;' ' derived from taste or truth ;' ' that charms with taste and truth.' But, after all, I do not know that she was a metaphysician, ' blest with each art that owes its charms to truth,' which painting does, as well as logic and metaphysics. 10. ' Faith lends her lenient aid to sorrow's load;' 'Faith lends her aid, and eases (or lightens) sor- row's load.' 11. 'Pensive he mourns,' or ' he views ' or ' gives.' 12. 'Yet humbly yields,' or 'but humbly.' Now, if from all this you can pick out twelve ostensible lines, do, and I will father them ; or if you will out of that lukewarm corner of your heart where you hoard up your poetical charity, throw out a poor mite to my dis- tresses, I shall take it kind in- deed ; but, if not, stat prior sen- tentia, for I will give myself no further trouble about it; I can- not in this uncomfortable place, where my opus magnum sive di- dacticum has not advanced ten lines since I saw you." Gray again appears with his " hook " and " hoe "I exceedingly approve the epi- taph in its present shape. Even what I best liked before is altered for the better. The various read- ings I do not mind, only, perhaps, I should read the 2nd line: Grace that with tenderness and sense com- bined. To form, etc. for I hate ' sentiment ' in verse. I will say nothing to ' taste ' and ' truth,' for perhaps the Arch- bishop may fancy they are fine things; but, to my palate, they are wormwood. All the rest is just as it should be, and what he ought to admire." After this knocking about and bitter digestion of words, the Epi- taph assumes the shape in which we now know it: Here sleeps what once was beauty, once was grace, Grace with that tenderness and sense com- bined, To form that harmony of soul and face, EARLY EXPLORERS OF AFRICA. 79 Where beauty shines the mirror of the mind. Such was the maid, that, in the morn of youth, In virgin innocence, in nature's pride, Blest with each art that owes its charm to • truth, Sunk in her father's fond embrace, and died. He weeps. 0 I venerate the holy tear! Faith lends her aid to ease affliction's load: The parent mourns his child upon its bier, The Christian yields an angel to his God. -A young poet may read an in- structive lesson in the changes which took place in twelve lines ere they took their present ap- pearance.-Athenceum-Review of Correspondence of Thomas Gray and William Mason. EARLY EXPLORERS OF AFRICA. on the 19th of August, 1788, the journey, which can now be per- formed in fifteen days, having oc- cupied him about fifty. He wrote home to his employers that his next letter would be dated from Sennar, but he fell a victim, as was generally supposed, to the climate, and his restless heart was quieted forever. The other emissary of the society was Lu- cas, whose name is less familiar to readers of the present day than that of Ledyard, whose affection- ate tribute to the character of woman, and whose untimely end, have, thanks to versification, been kept in remembrance of young students of geography. Lucas had, when a boy, been sent to Spain for education, but on his return was captured by a " Salee rover," and taken to Morocco as a slave. After three years he was released, and was subse- quently nominated the English vice-consul in the country into which he had originally been brought as a captive. Sixteen years later he came to England again, and was appointed Oriental interpreter to the British Court. In 1788 a society of English gentlemen, among whom were the then Bishop of Llandaff and Sir Joseph Banks, was instituted for the purpose of having the interior districts of Africa explored by agents of the society. Fortune instantly helped the promoters of the scheme to a couple of men than whom it is hardly possible to conceive better geographical missionaries. One of these was Ledyard, a name not yet forgot- ten. This daring American, whose earlier life had been par- tially spent in the wigwams of the Indians, who had made the voy- age of the world with Captain Cook, and who had gone through the most terrible privations and dangers in a gallant effort of his own to traverse the continent of America from the Pacific to the Atlantic, offered himself to Sir Joseph Banks for the African ex- pedition. Being asked when he would set out, he replied, " To- morrow morning." That was the sort of man for the purpose, and Ledyard started, arriving at Cairo LEDYARD AND LUCAS. 80 FEMALE PROMOTERS OF SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY. When in this capacity, he under- took the African expedition, and embarked for Tripoli in 1788, in- tending to proceed, over the great desert, to Gambia, but he was prevented from fulfilling his pur- pose, and his researches were brought to a speedy termination. He appears to have obtained, however, a good deal of informa- tion, and though much of it was hearsay, and though many of his informants, like those of Ledyard, told him absurd fables, he made respectable progress in the objects of the society. These were among the earliest explorers of the enormous region concerning which, more than half a century later, we have so much to learn. But no one who has trodden in the steps of Ledyard or Lucas, or who has ventured on the task of making his way through the inhospitable deserts of Africa, has entered on his work in a more chivalrous spirit, or told his tale more unaffectedly than that of this young and dis- tinguished traveler. His journey, like that of his predecessors, end- ed in sickness and dicomfiture, but he undertook it with the noblest motives, went through it, so long as his physical power per- mitted, with unflagging resolution, and recorded it in an earnest and manly narrative, which, we write the words in all sincerity, no one can read without admiration and esteem for its author. FEMALE PROMOTERS OF SCIENCE AND PHI- LOSOPHY. sighing for the silversmiths' shop- windows in Cheapside, and " the sweet shady side of Pall Mall." At the age of twenty, this lady had attained a dangerous reputa- tion as a wit and a prodigy. She was passionately proud of the brilliant society in which she lived, but set at naught its restraints, and trampled upon its convention- alities, in a style which the men forgave in consideration of her genius, and the women in consid- eration of her ugliness. Her vi- vacity was excessive, and her talk interminable. But her influence in Paris was so great, that Napo- leon banished her from France. During her wanderings she made Madame de Stiiel, with all her splendid talents and extraordina- ry vivacity, had little or no relish for the the beauties of nature. " Oh for the rivulet in the Rue du Bae !" she exclaimed, when some one pointed out to her the glorious Lake of Geneva. Many years later, she said to M. Mole,-" Si ce n'etait le respect humain, je n'ouvrirais pas ma fenetre pour voir la baie de Naples ; tandis que je ferais cinq cents lieues pour aller causer avec un homme d'es- prit." The reader will be remind- ed of Charles Lamb, invited down to the Lakes by Wordsworth, MADAME DE STAEL. FEMALE PROMOTERS OF SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY. 81 the friendship of Schiller, in Ger- many, who, writing to Goethe a description of her extraordinary intellectual capacity, was under the necessity of qualifying his praise by saying, " One's only grievance is the altogether unpre- cedented glibness of her tongue." In England, Byron celebrated her virtues and attractions in a pom- pous note to Childe Harold, but in his diary and correspondence re- corded his genuine impressions. " I saw' Curran," he says, " pre- sented to Madame deStael at Mack- intosh's ; it was the grand conflu- ence of the Rhone and the Saone ; they were both so ugly that I could not help wondering how the best intellects of France and Ireland could have taken up re- spectively such residences." Mr. Jerdan, in his autobiogra- phy mentions his acquaintanceship with Madame de Stiiel, remark- ing that she was far from hand- some or attractive, and an almost incessant talker. He adds, by way of apology, that in London society, everybody endeavored to " draw' her out." ty of the task of transalation and exposition is conveyed by a remark of Dr. Bowditch, who used to say-■" I never came across one of Laplace's Thus it plainly appears, without feeling sure that I have got hours of hard study before me to fill up the chasm, and find out and show how it plainly appears." It is highly honorable to the sex, that the on- ly exposition of Laplace's work that has appeared in England, is from the pen of a female - the accomplished Mary Somerville, wife of Dr. Somerville, of Chelsea Hospital. This is published un- der the title of the Mechanism of the Hear ens, of which it is observed in the .Edinburgh Review, " this, unquestionably, is one of the most remarkable works that female in- tellect ever produced in any age or country; and, with respect to the present day. we hazard little in saying that Mrs. Somerville is the only individual of her sex in the world who could have written it." For this single service to science a pension of £300 per an- num was bestowed upon the au- thoress, on the recommendation of the late Sir Robert Peel. LAPLACE AND HIS ENGLISH TRANSLATOR AND EXPOSITOR. Nathaniel Bowditch, the trans- lator of Laplace's Mecanique Ce- leste, was cheered on in his ar- duous labors by his wife, who not only relieved him from domestic cares, but offered to submit to any degree of self denial necessary to his publishing the work at his own risk. In grateful acknowledg- ment of her support and sympathy, he dedicated the book to her memory. An idea of the difficul- MISS CAROLINE LUCRETIA HER- SCHEL. This very interesting lady died at Hanover on the 9th of Janua- ry, 1848, in the 98th year of her age. She was the sister of Sir William Herschel; and, conse- quently, aunt to Sir John Her- schel, the present representative of this truly scientific family. Miss Herschel was the con- stant companion of her brother, 82 GEOLOGY AND NATURAL HISTORY. and sole assistant of his astrono- mical labors, to the success of which her indefatigable zeal, dili- gence, and singular accuracy of calculation, not a little contribu- ted. For the performance of these duties, his Majesty King George the Third, was pleased to place her in the receipt of a sala- ry sufficient for her singularly moderated wants and retired hab- its. In the intervals, she found time both for astronomical obser- vations of her own, and for the execution of more than one work of great extent and utility. The observations she made with a small Newtonian sweeper, con- structed for her by her brother, with which she found no less than eight comets ; and on five of these occasions her claim to the first discovery is admitted. These sweeps also proved productive of the detection of several remarka- ble nebulae and clusters of stars, previously unobserved. On her brother's death, in 1822, Miss Herschel returned to Hano- ver, which she never again quit- ted ; passing the last twenty-six years of her life in repose-enjoy- ing the society and cherished by the regard of her remaining rela- tives and friends ; gratified by the occasional visits of eminent as- tronomers, and honored with many marks of favor and distinc- tion on the part of the King of Hanover, the Crown Prince, and his amiable and illustrious consort. -Athenaeum. GEOLOGY AND NATURAL HISTORY. SAUSSURE AND THE ARRAN MINERALOGIST. est disorder. The room we were introduced into was, at the same time, a sleeping and a drinking room; the stone flags were all loose and full of holes, half of the window was broken, and currents of freezing air penetrated from all parts. It was there, however, we found Mr. Cowie, our host, busy- drinking a bottle of whisky with the doctor of the Isle, who was making the tour of his patients. The latter, whom we had already seen at Brodick, had informed Cowie of our arrival; thus, the moment he saw us he arose and came with eyes sparkling with joy to invite us to see his miner- als, and without even thinking of preparing a fire or any refresh- Having arrived at Lochranza we saw a house of good appear- ance, which was said to be the inn. The host was previously announced to us as a man re- markable for his originality ; he had cultivated, no one knew how, a taste for geology ; he composed verses, was a musician, a compo- ser, even, without neglecting the labors which his small farm re- quired, and fishing, which occu- pied a part of his time. We were eager to enter into the house; but the interior was far from corres- ponding with the outside ; every- thing was dirty and in the great- GEOLOGY AND NATURAL HISTORY. 83 ment for us he had already com- menced a geological dissertation. There was nothing in the house, and it was necessary to send a con- siderable way off to gather turf for fuel. An old woman, who wished to entertain us with distinction, gave herself an incredible move- ment, mounted and descended the staircase, spoke without ceasing, and brought us-nothing. It was a frightful noise, and notwithstand- ing so much eagerness, we could not obtain what we demanded. In fine, fatigued with so much bustle, we left the inn, begging Mr. Cowie to show us what the environs possessed as most inter- esting. But this great man, who would not permit his philosophical pursuits to encroach upon his rus- tic duties, begged us to allow him to repair a cart before giving him- self up to the study of mineralo- gy. We did not wait long; he conducted us a route as interest- ing for the phenomena of natural history which it presented, as for the beauty of its scenery.- Sauss. in the Royal Library at Paris, by an Arabian author, Mohammed Kazwini, who flourished in the 7th century of the Hegira, or at the close of the 13th century of our era. It is as follows: " I passed one day," an allegorical personage is represented as say- ing, " by a very ancient and won- derfully populous city, and asked one of its inhabitants how long it had been founded ? ' It is, indeed, a mighty city,' replied he; ' we know not how long it has existed, and our ancestry were on this sub- ject as ignorant as ourselves.' Five centuries afterwards, as I passed by the same place, I could not perceive the slightest vestige of the city. I demanded of a peasant, who was gathering herbs upon its former site, how long it had been destroyed ? ' In sooth, a strange question I' replied he. ' The ground here has never been different from what you now be- hold it.' ' Was there not of old,' said I, ' a splendid city here ? ' Never,' answered he, ' so far as we have seen, and never did our fathers speak to us of any such.' On my return there 500 years af- terwards, I found the sea in the same place, and on its shores were a party of fishermen, of whom I inquired how long the land had been covered by the waters ? 'Is this a question,' said they, ' for a man like you ?-this spot has al- ways been what it is now.' I again returned, 500 years after- wards, and the sea had disap- peared. I inquired of a man who stood alone upon the spot, how long this change had taken place; and he gave me the same answer GEOLOGICAL ALLEGORY OF THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY. The Arabian writers of the mid- dle ages cultivated with some suc- cess the study of mineralogy, but no geological discoveries were elic- ited by their labors. Sir Charles Lyell quotes an Arabian allegory connected with this era, which an- ticipates, in a beautiful and remark- able manner, some of the conclu- sions evolved by the modern geology. It is contained in a manuscript work, entitled the " Wonders of Nature," preserved 84 GEOLOGY AND NATURAL HISTORY. as I had received before. Lastly, on coming back again, after an equal lapse of time, I found there a flourishing city, more populous, and more rich in beautiful build- ings than the city I had seen the first time, and when I would fain have informed myself concerning its origin, the inhabitants answer- ed me, ' Its rise is lost in remote antiquity; we are ignorant how long it has existed, and our fathers were on this subject as ignorant as ourselves.'" had escaped decapitation; and be- ing anxious to gratify his patrons by providing them with snakes with their heads on, he contrived, with the aid of plaster of Paris, to produce the entire animal. In fact, he drove a brisk trade in the restored specimens, until some re- morseless geologist, on visiting the place, beheaded the luckless rep- tiles with his hammer, and re- duced them to their original con- dition of ammonite shells. In the same poem, Sir Walter celebrates the beads of St. Cuthbert, the fragments of the stems of crinoi- dea, or stone lilies, common in-the older deposits, and which, being hollow, were frequently strung to- gether, and used as rosaries in former times. The remains of the elephant and mastodon, in superfi- cial deposits, have, in like manner, been invested with superstitious fancies, and assigned to giants of a remote age. Sir Roderick Murchi- son relates, that when traveling along the eastern flanks of the Ural mountains, it was his lot to visit many accumulations of gold alluvia, in which bones of the mam- moth and other extinct quadrupeds were found. For these remains the poor Bashkirs, the original in- habitants of the tract, preserved so deep a veneration that, in freely permitting the search after the true wealth of their country, which they were incapable of extracting, their sole appeal to the Russian miners was-"Take from us our gold,but, for God's sake, leave us our an- cestors 1" SUPERSTITIONS RESPECTING OR- GANIC REMAINS. There are still people credulous enough to believe that fossils are freaks of nature, having no relation whatever to the organisms of a previous condition of our planet. There is less room, therefore, to wonder at the popular belief of for- mer days, that the shells of ammo- nites, found in the series of rocks beginning with the lias and ending with the chalk, were petrified snakes. A legend bore, that St. Hilda, a female devotee at Whitby, in Yorkshire, where they abound, destroyed the living serpents by praying their heads off, and then praying them into stone. It is to this legend that Sir Walter Scott refers in Marmion: " And how the nuns of Whitby told How, of countless snakes, each one Was changed into a coil of stone When Holy Hilda prayed ; Themselves within their sacred bound Their stony folds had often found." This superstition prevailed till a recent period. Mr. Sowerby men- tions that a dealer was requested by his customers to supply them with some of the creatures which SIR HUMPHRY DAVY. When Davy was in Sicily he GEOLOGY AND NATURAL HISTORY. 85 was studying geology, and the rap and clatter of his hammer among the rocks astonished the Catanian peasants, who accounted him mad. They told their priest of the dan- ger from the maniac; but Davy had seen the priest before them. His reverence quietly intimated to the peasants that it was a for- eign gentleman from a far-off land, who was practicing a penance I Davy was then regarded by the Catanians as a saint. CHILDHOOD OP CUVIER. Cuvier, like Sir Isaac Newton, was born with such a feeble, and sickly constitution, that he was scarcely expected to reach the years of manhood. His affec- tionate mother watched over his varying health, instilled into his mind the first lessons of religion, and had taught him to read flu- ently before he had completed his fourth year. She made him re- peat to her his Latin lessons, though ignorant herself of the language ; she conducted him ev- ery morning to school; made him practice drawing under her own superintendence, and supplied him with the best works on history and literature. His father had destined him for the army. In the library of the Gymnasium, where he stood at the head of the classes of history, geography, and mathematics, he lighted upon a copy of Gesner's History of Ani- mals and Serpents, with colored plates ; and, about the same time, he had discovered a complete copy of Buffon among the books of one of his relatives. His taste for natural history now became a pas- sion. He copied the figures which these works contained, and color- ed them in conformity with the descriptions; whilst he did not overlook the intellectual beauties of his author. In the fourteenth year of his age he was appointed president of a society of his school-fellows, which he was the means of organizing, and of which he drew up the rules; and seated on the foot of his bed, which was the president's chair, he DR. HUTTON. When the founder of the Hut- tonian theory first observed in Glentilt, veins of red granite tra- versing the black micaceous schist, he uttered a shout of exultation, which his guides ascribed to nothing less important than the discovery of a vein of gold or sil- ver. CUVIER. When the Count de Seze re- plied to an eloquent discourse of Cuvier, he stated that, since the Restoration, Cuvier was the sec- ond example of fortunate combi- nation of literature and science, and that he had been preceded only by that illustrious geometer (the Marquis de Laplace), whom we may call " the Newton of France." In referring to the Eu- ropean reputation of Cuvier, and to the vast extent and variety of his knowledge, he applied to him the happy observation which Fon- tenelle made respecting Liebnitz -that while the ancients made one Hercules out of several, we might out of one Cuvier make several philosophers. 86 GEOLOGY AND NATURAL HISTORY. first showed his oratorical powers in the discussion of various ques- tions, suggested by'the reading of books of natural history and trav- els, which was the principal object of the society. When at the age of nineteen, the casual dissection of a colmar, a species of cuttle-fish, induced Cu- vier to study the anatomy of the mollusca; and the examination of some fossil terebratulae, which had been dug up near Fecamp, in June, 1791, suggested to him the idea of comparing fossil with liv- ing animals; and thus, as he him- self said, " the germ of his two most important labors-the com- parison of fossil with living spe- cies, and the reform of the classi- fication of the animal kingdom- had their origin at this epoch." not suspect that I was every clay treacling upon a soil filled with re- mains more extraordinary than any that I had yet seen ; nor that I was destined to bring to light whole genera of animals unknown to the present world, and buried for (incalculable) ages at vast depths under the earth. It was to M. Veurin that I owed the first indications of these bones furnished by our quarries. Some fragments which he brought me one clay, having struck me with astonishment, I made inquiries re- specting the persons to whom this industrious collector had sent any formerly. What I saw in these collections served to excite my hopes and increase my curiosity. Causing search to be made at that time for such bones in all the quar- ries, and offering rewards to arouse the attention of the workmen, I collected a greater number than any person who had preceded me. After some years, I was sufficiently rich in materials to have nothing further to desire; but it was other- wise with respect to their arrange- ment, and the construction of the skeletons, which alone could con- duct me to a just knowledge of the species. From the first moment, I perceived that there were many different species in our quarries, and soon afterwards that they be- longed to various genera, and that the species of the different genera were often of the same size; so that the size alone rather confused than assisted my arrangement. I was in the situation of a man who had given to him, pele mele, the mutilated and incomplete frag- ments of a hundred skeletons, be- Cuvier's reconstruction of ORGANIC REMAINS. This philosopher achieved his greatest discoveries by following the guidance of the principle of design in the structure of animal bodies. The following singularly interesting account, by himself, of the application of this principle to the reconstruction of the fossil remains of extinct animals is without a parallel in the history of science: " When the sight of some bones of the bear and the el- ephant, twelve years ago, inspired me with the idea of applying the general laws of comparative anat- omy to the reconstruction and the discovery of fossil species-when I began to perceive that these species were not perfectly repre- sented by those of our day which resembled them the most, I did INVENTIONS AND DISCOVERIES. 87 longing to twenty sorts of animals; and it was required that each bone should be joined to that which it belonged to. It was a resurrec- tion in miniature; but the im- mutable laws prescribed to living beings were my directors. At the voice of comparative anatomy, each bone, each fragment, regain- ed its place. I have no express- ions to describe the pleasure ex- perienced in perceiving that, as I discovered one character, all the consequences, more or less fore- seen of this character, were suc- cessively developed. The feet were conformable to what the teeth had announced, and the teeth to the feet; the bones of the legs and the thighs, and every- thing that ought to unite these parts, were conformable to each other. In one word, each of the species sprung up from one of its elements. Those," he adds, "who will have the patience to follow me in these memoirs, may form some idea of the sensations which I experienced in thus restoring, by degrees, those ancient monu- ments of mighty revolutions." INVENTIONS AND DISCOVERIES. INDUCTIVE PHILOSOPHY ROG- ER BACON ITS FOUNDER. was taught with peculiar eloquence and success by Lord Bacon.- Sir D. Brewster. Roger Bacon was the true founder of the inductive philoso- phy. He taught the scientific world, that truth could not be ob- tained without experiment and observation, and that no reason- ings, however ingenious, and no ar- guments, however sound, could of themselves satisfy a mind anx- iously seeking for what is true. Nearly two centuries afterwards, Leonardo da Vinci taught and practiced the same truth. It sprung up, heaven-born, in the minds of Copernicus, Galileo, Ty- cho, Pascal, Huygens, and Gil- bert ; and Sir Isaac Newton may be considered as having carried to perfection the true method of investigating truth by observation and experiment. The great doc- trine, thus innate in some minds, Sir II. Davy spoke of the de- sire for knowledge being power- fully enhanced, when that knowl- edge is felt to be practical power, and when that power may be ap- plied to lessen the miseries or in- crease the comforts of our fel- low-creatures. It was in this spirit that he prosecuted the dis- covery of the safety-lamp. In August, 1815, his attention was first particularly directed to the subject of fire-damp. He was then in the Highlands of Scot- land on a shooting excursion. On his way back he stopped at New- castle, and made minute inquiries into the circumstances of the mines in connection with the de- structive agent. At his request, THE DAVY LAMP. 88 INVENTIONS AND DISCOVERIES. specimens of the fire-damp were forwarded to him in London. He then entered, in his laboratory, on the experimental investigation. On the 9 th of November, the re- sults of his inquiry were read to the Royal Society, and the prin- ciple of' the safety-lamp was an- nounced ; and the lamp itself was perfected in December. For this great service done to science and humanity, Sir Hum- phry received votes of thanks from the entire coal trade in the north of England, together with a service of plate valued at £2500. The late Emperor Alexander of Russia, sent him a silver-gilt vase, and the honor of a baronetcy was conferred upon the chemist by his own sovereign. When urged by his friends, including Mr. Buddle, to take out a patent for his dis- covery, " No, my good friend," he said to that gentleman, "I never thought of such a thing; my sole object was to serve the cause of humanity, and if I have succeeded, I am amply rewarded in the gratifying reflection of hav- ing done so. More wealth," he added, " could not increase either my fame or my happiness." was at twelve o'clock. A turn or two on the quays, round the square of the palace, would bring him to the hour of dinner. Six o'clock found him at his wine. A tap at the door, a stranger is introduced : " Have I the honor of addressing M. ?" " Yes." " Our Lon- don correspondent desires us to place in your hands a cheque for £100." The Athenceum relates an anecdote which has a different interest. The scene is the Prague railway station in Vienna; the time, six in the morning, on the arrival of the great train from Dresden, Prague and Brunn. An Englishman, who has lost his passport, is on his way to a guard- house, conducted by a Croat sol- dier, on suspicion of being a refu- gee and a conspirator. He has about him letters to various per- sons in Hungary and in Italy, chiefly patriots-and, knowing the Austrians, he is altogether con- scious that his case is bad. Ar- rived at the guard-house, he is asked to tell the story of his life, those of the lives of his father, mother,friends and acquaintances. He is cross-questioned, doubted, threatened. Of course, lie lets them know that he is a free-born Briton, and he plainly hints that they had better mind what they are about. His words are disbe- lieved, and put down as evidence against him. He is without a passport, and every man without a passport is a vagabond. A thought strikes him: when he entered Austria at Bodenbach, he remembers that he was detained a couple of hours while the police looked into his passport and cop- ROMANCE OF THE ELECTRIC TELEGRAPH. A newspaper paragraph relates, that a Liverpool citizen, touring in Holland, suddenly found him- self in want of £100 ; instead of writing from Amsterdam to Liv- erpool and waiting the return of post, an operation of five or six days, he walks into the telegraph office and sends a few words by lightning to state his need. This INVENTIONS AND DISCOVERIES. 89 ied it into their books. That en- try must still be there. He ap- peals to it, and suggests an inqui- ry by telegraph if his story be not true. The Croats, with their long guns and baker-boy faces, stare in bewilderment: they were proba- bly thinking of the glacis and a short range. But the official could not refuse the appeal, es- pecially as the prisoner offered to pay the expenses of inquiry. Away flashed the lightning along the plains of Moravia, by the Moldau and the Elbe, through the mountains of Bohemia to the heart of the Saxon Switzerland ; the book was opened, the story found, and the reply sent back. By ten o'clock the answer was at the gates of Vienna, the Croats gave up their spoil, and in less than an hour afterwards the tour- ist was enjoying a Viennese break- fast at the Herz-Erzhog Garl. In such anecdotes we see how science has tended to lengthen life by su- perseding the necessity for inter- vals of waste, and assisted to dis- arm the despotisms of the world, by atoning for accidents and offer- ing a ready means for innocence to vindicate itself-as it does in other cases, for the circumventing and overtaking of guilt. at one end of the St. Germain's Atmospheric Railway, began to ring, which led the attendant to suppose that he was about to re- ceive a communication. Several letters then made their appear- ance ; but finding they conveyed no meaning, he was about to make the signal "Not understood," when suddenly he heard an explosion, similar to a loud pistol shot, and at the same time a vivid flash of light was seen to run along the conductors placed against the sides of the shed. The conduc- tors were broken into fragments, which were so hot as to scorch the wooden tables on which they fell, and their edges presented ev- ident traces of fusion. The wires of several electro-magnets, belong- ing to the apparatus placed in the shed, were also broken ; and at the same instant the attendant ex- perienced a violent concussion, which shook his whole frame. The shed is placed in connection with the Paris station by wires supported on posts ; yet at Paris nothing was broken, nothing re- markable occurred, except that several of the bells were heard to ring. But at a short distance from the shed, the top of one of the posts which supports the wire was split; and where the wires were bent from a vertical into a horizontal direction at the corners of the angles, three branches (aigrettes) of light were observed several seconds after the explo- sion. At the time of the explosion, an attendant who was holding a handle which moves a needle at a short distance from the extrem- ELECTRO-TELEGRAPHIC STORM. M. Breguet, in a letter to M. Arago, records the following re- markable instance of the electric telegraph being interrupted by at- mospheric electricity: It appears that one afternoon, at five o'clock, during a heavy fall of rain, the bells of the electric telegraph, placed in a small shed 90 INVENTIONS AND DISCOVERIES. ity of the railway, sustained all over the body a violent concus- sion ; and several workmen, stand- ing about him, also experienced severe shocks. In M. Breguet's opinion, the explosion came from the railway ; for, on account of the immense quantity of metal employed in its construction, and the extent of its surface, it is very probable that, during a thunder-storm it may be the seat of an intense electric ten- sion ; and that the fluid thus at- tracted may discharge itself on the telegraphic wires, which are near the iron rails, tubes, needles, etc. cretins. The needles were fabled to have been magnetized togeth- er, and suspended over different circles, so as to be capable of moving along an alphabet. In these circumstances, by the re- maining influence of their origin- al kindred magnetism, they were supposed, at whatever distance, to follow each other's motions, and pause accordingly at the same point; so that, by watching them at concerted hours, the friends who possessed this happy tele- graph were supposed to be able to communicate to each other their feelings, with the same accuracy and confidence as when they were together. The above description, which is literally realized in the won- derful discovery of the electric telegraph, introduces, in Dr. Thomas Brown's Philosophy of the Human Mind, the passage re- ferred to in Akenside's poem, of which the following are the lines alluding to Strada's fanciful idea of the sympathetic needles : COMIC ELECTRIC TELEGRAPH. Mr. G. S. Richmond has made a plaything of the lightning, by inventing a " comic electric tele- graph and key-board, which con- sists of a mahogany case, having in front a comic face, and three signs concealed by shutters, the features of the face and the shut- ters being capable of simultane- ous motion by an electric current, which also rings a bell placed in- side." This instrument was shown in the Great Exhibition. " For when the different images of things By chance combined, have struck the atten- tive soul With deeper impulse, or, connected long, Have drawn her frequent eye ; howe'er dis- tinct The external scenes, yet oft the ideas gain From that conjunction an eternal tie And sympathy unbroken. Let the mind Recall one partner of the various league, Immediate, lo ! the firm confederates rise. 'Twas thus, if ancient fame the truth unfold, Two faithful needles, from the informing touch Of the same parent-stone, together drew Its mystic virtue, and at first conspired With fatal impulse quivering to the pole. Then, though disjoined by kingdoms-though the main Rolled its broad surge betwixt-and different stars Beheld their wakeful motions-yet preserved The former friendship, and remembered still The alliance of their birth. Whate'er the line Which one possessed, nor pause nor quiet knew IDEA OF THE ELECTRIC TELE- GRAPH. Akenside, in the Pleasures of Imagination, compares the ten- dency of ideas to suggest each other, to the mutual influence of two sympathetic needles, which Strada, in one of his Prolusions, availing himself of a supposed fact, which was then believed, makes the subject of verses, sup- posed to be recited by Cardinal Bembo, in the character of Lu- INVENTIONS AND DISCOVERIES. 91 The sure associate, ere, with trembling speed, He found its path, and fixed unerring there." makes no difference in the effect, a correspondence might be car- ried on at any distance. What- ever the use may be, the inven- tion is beautiful." The possibility of applying elec- tricity to telegraphic communica- tion was conceived by several oth- er persons, long before it was at- tempted upon a practical scale. The Rev. Mr. Gamble, in his de- scription of his original shutter- telegraph, published towards the close of the last century, al- ludes to a project of electrical communication. Mr. Francis Ro- nalds, in a pamphlet on this sub- ject, published in 1823, states that Cavallo proposed to convey intelligence by passing given num- bers of sparks through an insula- ted wire; and that, in 1816, he himself made experiments upon this principle, which he deemed more promising than the applica- tion of galvanic or voltaic elec- tricity, which had been projected by some Germans and Americans. He succeeded perfectly in trans- mitting signals through a length of eight miles of insulated wire ; and he describes minutely the contrivances necessary for adapt- ing the principle to telegraphic communication. It is, however, to the joint la- bors of Messrs. W. F. Cooke and Professor Wheatstone, that elec- tric telegraphs owe their practical application; and, in a statement of the facts respecting their rela- tive positions in connection with the invention, drawn up at their request by Sir M. I. Brunel and Professor Daniell, it is observed that " Mr. Cooke is entitled to Addison, in one of his elegant papers in the Spectator, also re- fers to Strada's fancy, and in a playful strain observes : " If ever this invention should be revived, or put in practice, I would pro- pose that upon the lover's dial-plate there should be written, not only the twenty-four letters, but sever- al entire words which have always a place in passionate epistles ; as, flames, darts, die, language, ab- sence, Cupid, heart, eyes, hang, down,-and the like. This would very much abridge the lover's pains in this way of writing a letter, as it would enable him to express the most useful and significant words with a single turn of the needle." Upwards of sixty years ago, (or, in 1787-89), when Arthur Young was traveling in France, he met with a Monsieur Lomond, " a very ingenious and inventing mechanic," who had made a re- markable discovery in electricity. " You write two or three words on a paper," says Young: " he takes it with him into a room, and turns a machine inclosed in a cyl- indrical case, at the top of which is an electrometer, a small, line, pith ball; a wire connects with a similar cylinder and electrometer in a distant apartment; and his wife, by remarking the corres- ponding motions of the ball, writes down the words they indi- cate ; from which it appears that he has formed an alphabet of mo- tions. As the length of the wire ORIGIN OF THE TELEGRAPH. 92 INVENTIONS AND DISCOVERIES. stand alone, as the gentleman to whom this country is indebted for having practically introduced and carried out the electric tele- graph as a useful undertaking, promising to be a work of nation- al importance ; and Professor Wheatstone is acknowledged as the scientific man whose profound and successful researches had al- ready prepared the public to re- ceive it as a project capable of practical application." - Penny Cyclopcedia. derful invention, the magnetic telegraph, passes through our country from the eastern cities, communicating intelligence almost instantaneously. News has been transmitted from Philadelphia to Cincinnati, a distance of 750 miles, on one unbroken chain of wires. Of course, as Cincinnati is 13 degrees west of Philadel- phia, or 40 minutes of time later, the news is that much a-head of the time."-London Anecdotes. TELEGRAPHIC REPORTING IN AMERICA. By the electric telegraph on the Great Western Railway has been accomplished the apparent paradox of sending a message in 1845, and receiving it in 1844! Thus, a few seconds after the clock had struck twelve, on the night of the 31st of December, the superintendent at Paddington signaled his brother officer at Slough, that he wished him a happy New Year. An answer was instantly returned, suggesting that the wish was premature, as the year had not yet arrived at Slough ! The fact is-the differ- ence of longitude makes the point of midnight at Slough a little af- ter that at Paddington ; so that a given instant, which was after midnight at one station, was be- fore midnight at the other. Or, the wonder may be more readily understood, when it is recollected that the motion of electricity is far more rapid than the diurnal motion of the earth. We hear of similar feats in the United States. Thus, a letter from Indiana says, " That won- LESS THAN NO TIME. The Pittsburgh Chronicle gives the following striking instance of the use of the electric telegraph on the other side of the Atlantic, and of enterprise on the part of a publisher. A speech by Mr. Clay was much looked for. It was delivered in Lexington on a Saturday, and the proprietor of the New York Herald determined on beating his cotemporaries. Express riders were ready, and in less than five hours his report of the speech (a full one) was in Cincinnati. Notifications had been sent along the line of tele- graph to " look outand at four o'clock on Sunday morning, the publisher of the Herald received in New York a copy of the speech, -the distance being more than 1100 miles ! This was done dur- ing a heavy rain, and while a thunder-shower was passing over a portion of both the eastern and western lines. At Cincinnati, where it was to be copied in pass- ing, the telegraph suddenly ceas- ed working, to the dismay of the superintendent. Being short of INVENTIONS AND DISCOVERIES. 93 proper hands, he mounted a horse, and followed the line, through the pelting storm, until he found a break, caused by the falling of a tree, beyond Turtle Creek, a distance of twenty-one miles. He finished mending it at dark, and then returned to the city, and in the temporary absence of other competent operators, re- ceived the speech and sent it to New York, finishing it at four o'clock in the morning. The first message of Governor Young to the New York Legisla- ture was commenced reading in the House of Assembly at Alba- ny, on Tuesday (Jan. 5, 1847), at 18 minutes before 12, New York time, and was transmitted to New York, by the New York, Albany, and Buffalo Telegraph Company, and the entire doc- ument complete was placed in possession of the editors of that city at three o'clock p. m. The message contained 5000 words, or 25,000 letters, and was writ- ten from two instruments in the Albany office, by Messrs. Car- ter, Buel, and Johnson, and read in the New York office by the Messrs. Woods, at the rate of 83 letters per minute, or two and a-half hours for each instrument. Professor Morse's original esti- mate to Congress for the dispatch with which communications could be sent by his telegraph, was thirty letters per minute. Here we see the number almost trebled in a long public document. "That steed called 'Lightning,' (say the Fates,) Is owned in the United States. 'Twas Franklin's hand that caught the horse ; 'Twas harnessed by Professor Morse !" PARLIAMENTARY ELECTRIC TEL- EGRAPH. Both Houses of Parliament have a telegraph of their own, communicating with the offices of clerks, cloisters, and committee- rooms. As a specimen of the in- formation conveyed from the House, we have the following: " Committee has permission to sit until five o'clockand among the questions sent down from the committee are the following: " What is before the House ?** " Who is speaking ? " How long before the House divides ?*' This will supersede the old form of ringing a bell, and the startling and stentorian announcements by the messengers to wearied wights in committee, of " The Speaker's at prayers!" There will be no complaints for the future in the newspapers, by members indulg- ing after dinner at Bellamy's, of being "barred out" of a divi- sion. A " call " of the House may be known in a twinkling of time throughout the country. His constituents may know in a moment when the Hon. Mr. is " up," when the " perpetual motion member " is in pendido. Accommodation has been af- forded to an agent of the Electric Telegraph Company in the re- porters' gallery; and his business will be that of communicating the results or the progress of debates and divisions up to the rising of the House.-London Anecdotes. THE LIGHTNING STEED. The following versified pedigree is from the Boston Chronotype: 94 INVENTIONS AND DISCOVERIES. MARRIAGE BY TELEGRAPH. threatened to protest against the validity of the marriage, but did not carry his threat into execu- tion. The American journals report a story, which, if true, throws in- to the shade all the feats that have been performed by our British telegraph. It appears that a daughter of one of the wealthiest merchants in Boston had formed an attachment for a handsome young man, who was a clerk in her father's counting- house ; and she determined to marry him, although her father had previously promised her in marriage to another suitor. The father having heard of the attach- ment, feigned ignorance of it, but determined to cause it to be broken off. For this purpose he directed the young man to proceed to England by steamer, upon busi- ness ; and the lover accordingly arrived, en route, in New York. In the meantime, the young lady had gained some knowledge of her father's intentions, and sent a message to that effect to her lover in New York, by the following expedient: She took her place in the telegraph office in Boston, and he did the same with a magis- trate, in the office in New York ; and the exchange of consent be- ing given by the electric flash, they were thus married by tel- egraph 1 Shortly after, the lady's father insisted upon her marriage with the gentleman he had select- ed for her; and judge of his amazement when she told him she was already the wife of Mr. B., then on his way to England; adding an explanation of the novel way in which the ceremony was performed. The merchant One of our most profound elec- tricians is reported to have ex- claimed, " Give me but an unlim- ited length of wire, with a small battery, and I will girdle the uni- verse with a sentence in forty minutes." Yet this is no vain boast; for so rapid is the tran- sition of the electric current along the lines of the telegraph wire, that, supposing it were pos- sible to carry the wires eight times around the earth, it would but oc- cupy one second of time. The immense velocity of elec- tricity makes it impossible to cal- culate it by direct observation ; it would require to be many thou- sands of leagues long before the result could be expressed in the fractions of a second. Yet, Pro- fessor Wheatstone has devised some apparatus for this purpose, among which is a double metallic mirror, to which he has given a velocity of eight hundred revolu- tions in a second of time. The Professor concludes from his experiments with this appara- tus, that the velocity of electricity through a copper wire, one-fit- teenth of an inch thick, exceeds the velocity of light across the planetary spaces; that it is at least 288,000 miles per second ! The Professor adds, that the light of electricity, in a state of great intensity, does not last the mil- lionth part of a second ; but that the eye is capable of distinctly VELOCITY OF ELECTRICITY. INVENTIONS AND DISCOVERIES. 95 perceiving objects which present themselves for this short space of time. wire used. The power was so great, that it became necessary to detach the wire, in order to pre- vent the instrument from melting. One of the most intense flashes of electricity took effect upon one of the operators, by removing him, almost instantaneously, from his seat at the machine A TELEGRAPHIC BLUNDER. During the revolutionary ex- citement in 1848, it was reported in the papers that the King of Prussia had abdicated. The mis- take originated with the electric telegraph, which sent the follow- ing dispatch: " The-King-of -Prussia-has- gone-to-Pot -" In another minute, the com- munication was on its way to a newspaper office. Not long after, however, the dial was again agi- tated, and then " s-dam." Mak- ing it read thus-■" The King of Prussia has gone to Potsdam." THE ELECTRIC SPARK. Faraday was the first to elicit the electric spark from the mag- net : he found that it is visible at the instant of breaking and of re- newing the contact of the con- ducting wires, and only then: Around the Magnet, Faraday Is sure that Volta's lightnings play ; But how to draw them from the wire ? He took a lesson from the heart: 'Tis when we meet, 'tis when we part, Breaks forth the electric fire. Blackwood's Magazine. It has been established, that Faraday obtained a spark from a temporary or electro-magnet, as far back as November, 1831. STORM IN A TELEGRAPH OFFICE. Recently, at Buffalo, United States, a driving snow-storm came on from the north-east, accompa- nied by vivid flashes of lightning and heavy peals of thunder. The atmosphere, and all objects upon which the eye rested, and especi- ally the falling snow, put on a sallow, sickly hue; and this was rendered occasionally more sin- gular by the repeated flashes of electricity, which worked wonders in the telegraph office. The battery-room was for some time lit up by one constant sheet of electric flame that played around its walls. It was a thrilling scene, and one calculated to fill the mind of the observer with serious ap- prehension: it proved, however, harmless in its consequences. A very strong current was attracted to the writing instrument of the Lockport line, by the large iron SIR HARRY SMITH AND THE CAFFRES. In the course of the pacification conference of Sir Harry Smith (governor of the Cape of Good Hope) with the Caffres, at King Williams's Town, a voltaic bat- tery was fired on the opposite slope, about a quarter of a mile distant. Here a wagon had been placed at 300 yards' distance from the battery, communicating in the usual manner by means of wires. The object of his Excellency was to convey to the Caffre mind an idea of sudden and irresistible power. Accordingly, on a given signal from him-the waving of a small flag-the discharge in- 96 INVENTIONS AND DISCOVERIES. stantly took place. The explo- sion shattered the carriage of the wagon, canting up the body of the vehicle, so that it remained fixed by one end on the ground, at an angle of forty-five degrees. The action was so sudden, as scarcely to afford time to his Excellency to direct the attention of the Cat- fres to the experiment; but, in those who were looking towards the spot, and saw the power exer- cised on a distant object, the sur- prise manifested was amusing. "There," exclaimed Sir Harry Smith, " is a lesson to you not to meddle with wagons ; as you now see the power I possess, should you do so, to punish you." The evidence of Mr. Brunel, and of Mr. Lawson, the printer of the Times, proved the inven- tion of the Fourdriniers to be one of the most splendid discoveries of the age. Mr. Lawson stated that the conductors of the metro- politan newspapers could never have presented to the world such an immense mass of news and ad- vertisements as was now contained in them, had not this invention enabled them to make use of any size required. By the revolution of the great cylinder employed in the process, an extraordinary de- gree both of rapidity and conve- nience in the production is secured. One of its chief advantages is the prevention of all risk of combi- nation among the workmen, the machine being so easily managed that the least skilful person can attend to it. It was added that the invention had caused a re- markable increase in the revenue: in the year 1800, when this ma- chine was not in existence, the amount of the paper duty was £195,641; in 1821, when the machinery was in full operation, the amount of duty was £579,- 867; in 1835, it was £833,822. No doubt, part of this increase must be set down to other causes ; still, it was impossible, but for this discovery, that such a quan- tity of paper could have been made and consumed. The posi- tive saving to the country effected by it has not been less than £8,000,000; the increase in the re- venue not less than £500,000 a year. At length, in May, 1840, the sum of £7000 was voted by Parliament to Messrs. Fourdri- fourdriniers' paper-making MACHINERY. On April 25, 1839, some very interesting details of Fourdriniers' machinery for making paper of endless length, were elicited dur- ing a debate in the House of Commons, upon the presentation of a petition from these ingenious manufacturers. It appears that 1000 yards, or any given quantity of yards of paper, could be con- tinuously made by it. Many years since, the invention was patented ; but, owing to a mistake in the pa- tent-the word " machine " being written instead of " machines "- the property was pirated, and that led to litigations, in which the pa- tentees' funds were exhausted be- fore they could establish their rights. They then became bank- rupts, and thus all the fruits of their invention, on which they had spent £40,000, were entirely lost to them. INVENTIONS AND DISCOVERIES. 97 nier, as some compensation for their loss by the defective state of the patent law. In 1839, there was made by this machinery, at Colinton, a single sheet of paper weighing 533 lbs., and measuring upwards of a mile and a half in length, the breadth being only 50 inches. Were a ream of paper of similar sheets made, it would weigh 266,500 lbs. or upwards of 123 tons.-London Anecdotes. keepers of lighthouses. The light is seen at a distance of sixty miles. MYTHOLOGY OF SCIENCE. M. Arago, in his brilliant eloge, on Fourier, observes : " The an- cients had a taste, or rather a pas- sion for the marvelous, which made them forget the sacred ties of gratitude. Look at them, for instance, collecting into one single group the high deeds of a great number of heroes, whose names they have not even deigned to preserve, and attributing them all to Hercules. The lapse of centu- ries has not made us wiser. The public in our time also delight in mingling fiction with history. In all careers, particularly in that of the sciences, there is a design to create Herculeses. According to the vulgar opinion, every astronom- ical discovery is attributable to Herschel. The theory of the mo- tions of the planets is identified with the name of Laplace, and scarcely any credit is allowed to the important labors of D'Alem- bert, Clairaut, Euler, and La- grange. Watt is the sole invent- or of the steam-engine, whilst Chaptel has enriched the chemical arts with all those ingenious and productive processes which secure their prosperity." To counter- vail this error, Arago continues : " Let us hold up to legitimate ad- miration those chosen men whom nature has endowed with the val- uable faculty of grouping together isolated facts, and deducing beau- tiful theories from them; but do not let us forget that the sickle of the reaper must cut down the ARCHIMEDES AND THE LEVER. Archimedes said, " Give me a lever long enough, and a prop strong enough, and with my own weight I will move the world." "But," says Dr. Arnott, "he would have required to move with the velocity of a cannon ball for mil- lions of years, to alter the position of the earth a small part of an inch. This feat of Archimedes is, in mathematical truth, performed by every man who leaps from the ground; for he kicks the world away from him whenever he rises, and attracts it again when he falls." The importance of simplicity in inventions for popular use, has been shown in the late Lieutenant Drummond's apparatus for illumi- nating lighthouses with his oxyhy- drogen light; that is, a stream of oxygen and another of hydrogen, directed upon a ball of lime. Ex- perimentally, the light has suc- ceeded beyond the expectation of the inventor; but the machinery or apparatus remains to be simpli- fied before it can be worked by the THE DRUMMOND LIGHT. 98 INVENTIONS AND DISCOVERIES. stalks of corn, before any one can think of collecting them into sheaves." believe to be true; nevertheless, the service cannot be formidable, as the extra pay is only one shil- ling per day. Had there been anything extraordinary to see be- low, I should have asked permis- sion to go down; but the water was by no means clear, and the muddy bottom of the docks was not a sufficient recompense for the disagreeable sensation. Two men descend at a time, and four pump the air into the bell through the leathern hose ; the bell is nearly a square, or rather an oblong vessel of cast-iron, with ten bull's-eye lights at the top, which lights are fortified within by a lattice of strong iron wire, sufficient to resist an ac- cidental blow of a crowbar, or other casualty Notwithstanding the great improvements made in diving-bells since their invention, after all precautions, a man in a diving-bell is, certainly, in a state of awful dependence upon human aid: in case of the slightest acci- dent to the air-pump, or even a single stitch of the leathern hose giving way, long before the pon- derous vessel could be raised to the surface, life must be extinct." A DESCENT IN A DIVING-BELL. Sir George Head, in his humor- ous Home Tour, gives an amusing picture of a pair of operative divers whom he saw in the Hull docks. Sir George was passing as the workmen were raising the diving- bell, when he stepped into the lighter to observe the state of the laborers on their return from be- low. He had a remarkably good view of their features at a time when they had no reason to expect any one was looking at them; for, as the bell was raised very slowly, he had an opportunity of seeing within it, by stooping, the moment its side was above the gunwale of the lighter. But, Sir George shall relate what he saw: "A pair of easy-going, careless fellows, each with a red night-cap on his head, sat opposite one an- other, by no means over-heated or exhausted, and apparently with no other want in the world than that of ' summut to drink they had been under water exactly two hours. I asked them what were their sensations on going down ? They said that, before a man was used to it, it produced a feeling as if the ears were bursting; that, on the bell first dipping, they were in the habit of holding their noses; at the same time of breathing as gently as possible, and that thus they prevented any disagreeable effect: they added, the air below was hot and made a man thirsty; -the latter observation, though in duty bound I received as a hint, I "wet the ropes." The property of cords contract- ing their length by moisture be- came generally known, it is said, on the raising of the Egyptian obelisk in the square facing St. Peter's, at Rome, by order of Pope Sixtus V. The great work was undertaken in the year 1586, and the day for raising the obelisk was marked with great solemnity. High mass was celebrated at St. Peter's and the architect and INVENTIONS AND DISCOVERIES. 99 workmen received the benediction of the Pope. The blast of a trum- pet was the given signal, when engines were set in motion by an incredible number of horses ; but not until after fifty-two unsuccess- ful attempts had been made, was the huge block lifted from the earth. As the ropes which held it had somewhat stretched, the base of the obelisk could not reach the summit of the pedestal, when a man in the crowd cried out, " Wet the ropes !" This advice was followed, and the column, as of itself, gradually rose to the re- quired height, and was placed up- right on the pedestal prepared for it. Times, stating, in effect, that he, or any engineer of the day, would have no objection to undertake the erection of a pyramid equal to the largest and the loftiest in Egypt. To show that this is no idle boast, the following facts may be men- tioned : According to ancient authors, betwixt 100,000 and 300,000 men were engaged for twenty years in building the great pyramid of Egypt, at an expenditure of labor which has been estimated as equal to lifting fifteen thousand seven hundred and thirty-three millions (15,733,- 000,000) of cubic feet of stone one foot high. From a computation by M. Dupin, it appears that the steam-engines of England would equal the whole product of this immense application of human la- bor, in lifting stones, within the short space of eighteen hours. In the construction of the southern division of the London and North Western Railway, the labor, as estimated in the same manner, is twenty-five thousand millions (25,000,000,000) of cubic feet of similar material lifted to the same height, being 9,267,000,000 (nine thousand two hundred and sixty- seven millions) more than was lifted for the pyramids, and yet the Eng- lish work was performed by about 20,000 men, in less than five years. According to another calculation, illustrating the enormous extent of these works, called into existence by the united influence of iron, coal, and steam, in making the division of railway just referred to, and which is 112 miles in length, as much earth was re- moved as would form a foot-path THE RAILWAY SYSTEM COAL, STEAM, AND IRON. Coal, steam, and iron, are the threefold power which has created the vast system of railways. It has, chiefly in England and Scot- land, and betwixt the years 1843 and 1849, increased the number of miles of railway previously con- structed from 1857 to 5000 miles; and the year 1848 conveyed from one part of the kingdom to an- other 57,965,000 passengers, and expended on these works the enor- mous sum of £200,000,000; double the amount being required in or- der to complete the existing and the contemplated lines. Miss Mar- tineau, after traveling in the East, and seeing the Pyramids of Egypt, in the account of her jour- ney, expressed regret that the art by which the stones of these im- mense structures were elevated, is lost. An engineer, in reference to this regret, sent a letter to the 100 INVENTIONS AND DISCOVERIES. a foot high and a yard broad, round the whole circumference of the earth; the cost of this divis- ion of the railway in penny pieces, being sufficient to form a copper kerb or edge to it. When the train has been connected, consist- ing of passenger-carriages, luggage vans, horse-boxes, carriage-trucks, and, as on the leading English lines, a traveling post-office - the loco- motive engine is moved to the front. This is the steam-horse, which has drunk a thousand gal- lons of cold water to prepare him for his journey, and taken in prov- ender to the extent of one ton of fuel. The engine-driver takes his place, and opens a valve, the steam enters and commences its work, the engine works, the train fol- lows, and in a brief space, at the rate of forty, fifty, and even sixty miles an hour, it rushes through tunnels which have been cut for miles in the solid rock, along em- bankments which have been piled up in the valleys, over morasses whose profoundest depths have been fathomed and piled, through cuttings on the sides of mountains, along precipices with the ocean lashing their bases-across via- ducts, over rivers and ravines, crossing arms of the sea by means of tubular bridges of iron. " While the train is almost on the wing," observes Sir F. B. Head, " beating the eagle in its flight, the passengers are reclining in their easy chairs, thinking or sleeping, reading or writing, as if they were in their own happy homes-safer, indeed, than there, for thieves cannot rob them by day, nor burglars alarm them by night. The steam-horse starts neither at the roar of the thunder- storm, nor the flash of its fire. Draughts of a purer air expel the marsh poison from its seat before it has begun the work of death, and, surrounded by conductors, the delicate and timid traveler looks without dismay on the forked messengers of destruction, twist- ing the spire or rending the oak, or raging above the fear-stricken dwellings of man." The Atlantic is now crossed al- most every week from January to December, and the passage seldom lasts beyond twelve days ; inso- much that the merchants of Liv- erpool on the one side, and Bos- ton and New York on the other, calculate to an hour the arrival of the steamer, and are seldom dis- appointed. Lavoisier's discoveries and FATE. Lavoisier proved that the fixed air (carbonic acid) of Black was a compound of carbon and oxygen ; that atmospheric air consisted of oxygen and nitrogen; and that oxygen was the agent in combus- tion and respiration, as well as in the process of oxydizing metals, and in the formation of acids (the acids formed by hydrogen being then unknown to the science). Lavoisier thus generalized the discovery of Priestley, and super- seded the phlogiston theory by that of oxygen. Lavoisier's the- ory of combustion, if we may be allowed the metaphor, kindled the torch which has lighted succeed- ing chemists along the path of discovery. Lavoisier enjoyed the INVENTIONS AND DISCOVERIES. 101 privilege - rarely awarded to great discoverers in science - of seeing his views speedily adopted throughout Europe. Such, also, we are reminded, was the reward of Harvey, who, after suffering years of obloquy and persecution for promulgating the doctrine of the circulation of the blood, had the satisfaction of living to wit- ness his principles taught in all the medical schools of the civilized world. But, less fortunate than Harvey, Lavoisier was persecuted by more unrelenting men, who struck him down in the heyday of his scientific reputation and use- fulness. During the French Rev- olution, he was thrown into prison on the charge of adulterating to- bacco, factitiously brought against him as a pretext for confiscating his property. He became a victim of the guillotine in 1794-"A mel- ancholy proof," Mr. Whewell re- marks, " that in periods of political ferocity, innocence and merit, pri- vate virtues and public services, amiable manners and the love of friends, literary fame and exalted genius, are all as nothing to pro- tect their possessor from the last extremes of violence and wrong, inflicted under judicial forms." handles for implements. He found that the material could be advantageously substituted for caoutchouc in the construction of the parts of surgical instruments hitherto made of that substance; for which discovery the London Society of Arts awarded him its gold medal. He ascertained from the natives that the tree yield- ing the gutta (Malayan for gum) attains a height of 60 or 70 feet, and a diameter of 3 or 4 feet; that its wood is valueless as tim- ber, but that its fruit yields a con- crete oil, which is used for food. The tree is found in Singapore, Borneo and the adjacent islands. Dr. Montgomery was assured by Mr. Brook, the Raja of Sarawak, that in the woods of Borneo it ac- quires a diameter of 6 feet. Sev- eral hundred tons of gutta percha are now annually exported from Singapore; but there is reason to apprehend, from the wasteful method in which the natives col- lect it, that this supply must speedily be diminished, if it do not altogether cease. The largest quantity of juice yielded by a sin- gle trunk is only 20 or 30 lbs.; and the improvident Malays will rather sacrifice a tree of a hun- dred years' growth, for the sake of obtaining all its juice at once, than to submit to the process of tapping the trunk, and allowing the gum to exude in small quan- tities annually. The people fell the tree, strip off the bark, and collect the milky juice in a cavity formed by the hollow stem of the plantain leaf--when, being expos- ed to the air, it coagulates. Dr. Oxley, who writes a description GUTTA PERCHA. The tree yielding this useful sub- stance was first observed by Mr. Lobb, while engaged in a botani- cal mission in Singapore, in the Eastern Archipelago; but gutta percha was first brought into general notice in 1845, by Dr. Montgomery, whose attention was attracted to it by seeing it em- ployed by the Malays to make 102 INVENTIONS AND DISCOVERIES. of the tree in the Journal of the Indian Archipelago, printed at the Mission Press of Singapore, mentions that only a short time ago the tree was tolerably abund- ant in the island of Singapore, but that already all the large timber has been felled, and few, if any, other than small plants are now to be found. The range of its production, however, appears to be considerable, it being found all up the Malayan peninsula as far as Penang. Numerous patents have been taken out for applica- tions of gutta percha to the arts and sciences. Like caoutchouc it is soluble in naphtha. Hot water (above 150°) has a re- markable action upon the sub- stance ; contrary to the usual ef- fect of heat, the gum contracts and becomes plastic, and may then be made to assume any form, which will be permanent at an ordinary temperature. This prop- erty fits it for many important purposes to which caoutchouc cannot be adapted. In surgical practice it renders gutta percha of great value. Amongst the or- namental purposes to which it has been successfully applied, are casts of medals, and other objects re- quiring a smooth surface and sharp impression. The Gutta Percha Company alone imported between 600 and 700 tons of the material, chiefly for commercial purposes, betwixt the years 1844 and 1848. From 60 to 80 tons are said to be imported monthly. The sonorous property of gutta percha is interesting. By speak- ing in a voice little above a whis- per, it will be heard through a tube of this substance at the dis- tance of three-quarters of a mile. POETICAL PREDICTION OF THE CRYSTAL PALACE. It is a curious fact that the Crystal Palace realized the con- ceptions of one of the earliest po- etical dreams in the language; and one would almost believe that when Chaucer, four centuries and a half ago, delineated the follow- ing scene in the " House of Fame," his pen, which, as Spenser said of it, was dipped in the " pure well of English, undefiled," drew its inspiration from the prophetic as well as the poetic faculty - " the vision and the faculty divine , " I dreampt I was Within a temple made of glass, In which there were more images, Made of gold standing in sundry stages, In more rich tabernacles, And with jewels more pinnacles, And more curious portraitures, And quaint manner of figures Of gold work than I saw ever. ***** " Then saw I stand on either side Straight down to the doors wide From the dais many a pillar Of metal that shone out full clear. ***** " Then 'gan I look about and see That there came ent'ring in the hall, A right great company withal, And that of sundry regions Of all kinds of conditions, That dwell in earth beneath the moon, Poor and rich. ***** " Such a great congregation Of folks as I saw roam about, Some within and some without, Was never seen or shall be more ! " THE CRYSTAL PALACE. The Crystal Palace and the Great Exhibition will render the year 1851 forever memorable, and perpetuate the honored name of his Royal Highness Prince Albert 'as the projector of the most extensive and varied collec- tion of the products of nature, art, INVENTIONS AND DISCOVERIES. 103 and manufacturing industry ever witnessed in the world. To Sir J. Paxton belongs the honor of designing the capacious struc- ture of glass and iron ; and to Messrs. Fox and Henderson, that of its erection. The general plan was that of a parallelogram, 1848 feet long, and 408 feet wide. The total area roofed over was 772,- 784 square feet, equal to about 19 acres ; 217,100 square feet of additional area was obtained by cross galleries. There were about 200 miles of sash bars, and 896,- 000 square feet of glass required for the roof; 700 tons of wrought iron and 3800 tons of cast iron were used in the construction of the building. The Exhibition was opened by the queen on the 1st of May, in presence of 25,000 spectators, whilst 650,000, it was estimated, crowded the surround- ing parks. The total number of visits to the Exhibition was 6,- 039,195, the daily average being 42,831, and the greatest number in anyone day, 109,915 persons. The receipts amounted to £506,- 100, and the expenditure to £292,794, leaving a surplus of £213,305 to be applied to the promotion of industrial art. The value of the articles exhibited was £2,000,000. The total number of exhibitors was 13,937; of whom 7381 belonged to Great Britain and her colonies, and 6556 to foreign countries. nel, completed his design in 1823 ; and amongst those who then re- garded it as practicable were the late Duke of Wellington and the late Dr. Wollaston. The works were commenced in 1825, and the tunnel itself in 1826; and by March, 1827, it had advanced about one-third of the whole length. All proceeded well till May 18, when the river burst in- to the tunnel with such velocity and force as to fill it in fifteen minutes; but, although the men were at work, no lives were lost. The hole, thirty-eight feet deep, was closed with bags of clay and hazel-rods, the water pumped out, and the works resumed in Sep- tember. On Jan. 12, 1828, the river broke in a second time, and filled the tunnel in less than ten minutes ; when the rush of water brought with it a strong current of air that put out the lights; six of the workmen were lost. For some distance, Mr. Brunel, junior, struggled in total darkness, and the rush of the water carried him up the shaft. The tunnel was again cleared, and the part completed found to be sound. Hundreds of plans were proposed for its com- pletion ; the funds of the company were too low to proceed, and above £5000 was raised by pub- lic subscription. For seven years the work was suspended ; but, by advances from Government, it was resumed in 1835. On April 23, 1837, there was a third irruption of the river ; a fourth on Nov. 2, 1837, with the loss of one life; and, on March TIIE THAMES TUNNEL. The engineer of this great work, Mr., now Sir Mark Isambard Bru- 104 INVENTIONS AND DISCOVERIES. 6, 1838, the fifth and the last ir- ruption took place. Thus, of the tunnel there were completed- this; some millions of sover- eigns being weighed separately, and the light coins divided from those which were full weight. Fortunately, the governor for the time being, (Mr. W. Cotton,) be- fore whom the complaints princi- pally came, was attached to scien- tific pursuits ; and he at once turn- ed his attention to discover the causes which operated to prevent the attainment of a just weight. In this he was successful, and the result of his inquiry was a ma- chine, remarkable for an al- most elegant simplicity. About 80 or 100 light and heavy sover- eigns are placed indiscriminately in a round tube ; as they descend on the machinery beneath, those which are light receive a slight touch, which moves them into their proper receptacle; while those which are the legitimate weight pass into their appointed place. The light coins are then defaced by a sovereign-cutting machine, remarkable alike for its accuracy and rapidity. By this, 200 may be defaced in one min- ute ; and, by the weighing ma- chinery, 35,000 may be weighed in one day. An eminent member of the Roy- al Society mentioned to the wri- ter, that, amongst scientific men, it is a question whether the weigh- ing-machine of Mr. Cotton is not the finest thing in mechanics ; and that there is only one other inven- tion-the envelop-machine of De la Rue-to be named with it.- Francis's History of the Bank of England. In 1836 117 feet. - 1837 28 " - 1838 80 " - 1839 194 " - 1840 76 " Leaving only 60 feet to complete. Meanwhile, the tunnel works proved a very attractive exhibi- tion. In 1838 they were visited by 23,000 persons, and, in 1839, by 34,000. By January, 1841, the tunnel was completed from shore to shore-1140 feet, and Sir I. Brunel, on August 13, was the first to pass through. On March 25, 1843, the tunnel was opened to the public, with a demonstration of triumph. The cost of the work has been nearly four times the sum at first contemplated ; the actual expense being upwards of £600,000. WEIGHING MACHINE AT THE BANK OE ENGLAND. The most interesting place con- nected with the machinery of the Bank of England, is the weigh- ing-office, which was established a few years ago. In consequence of a proclamation concerning the gold circulation, it became very desirable to obtain the most mi- nute accuracy, as coins of differ- ent weight were plentifully offer- ed. Many complaints were made, that sovereigns which had been issued from one office were refus- ed at another; and though these assertions were not, perhaps, al- ways founded on truth, yet it is indisputable that the evil occasion- ally occurred. Every effort was made by the directors to remedy INVENTIONS AND DISCOVERIES. 105 POETICAL PREDICTION ON RAIL- WAYS AND STEAMBOATS. generally possess the greatest pro- portion of attractive power. Sir Isaac Newton wore in his ring a magnet which weighed only three grains ; yet it was able to take up 746 grains, or nearly 250 times its own weight-whereas, magnets weighing above two pounds sel- dom lift more than five or six times their own weight. In Dr. Darwin's Botanic Garden, first published in 1789, but written, it is well known, at least twenty- years before the date of its publi- cation, occurs the following pre- diction respecting steam: " Soon shall thy arm. unconquer'd steam, afar Drag the slow barge, or drive the rapid car ; Or, on wide-waving wings expanded bear The flying chariot through the fields of air, Fair crews, triumphant, leaning from above, Shall wave their fluttering 'kerchiefs as they move ; Or warrior bands alarm the gaping crowd. And armies shrink beneath the shadowy cloud; So mighty Hercules o'er many a clime Waved his huge mace in virtue's cause sub- lime ; Unmeasured strength with early art combin- ed, Awed, served, protected, and amazed man- kind." GUN-COTTON AND COLLODION. Cotton, after contributing to the manufacturing prosperity of the nation, promised a few years ago to form a very important part of its munitions of war. Profes- sor Schbnbein, of Basle, discover- ed that by combining cotton with nitric acid, an explosive compound was formed, capable of being sub- stituted for gunpowder. Its pow- er in blasting and mining, and its projectile force in fire-arms, were satisfactorily tested ; but gunpow- der still maintains its supremacy. Gun-cotton is remarkable for the low temperature at which it ex- plodes. Hence, when pure, it may be burnt on the palm of the hand, without inconvenience, on the application of a moderately- heated wire. Professor Schbn- bein attended the meeting of the British Association for the Ad- vancement of Science, held at Southampton, in 1846, when the operation of this new power was explained and experimented with. Subsequently, the professor atten- ded at Osborne House, to exhibit the properties of his gun-cotton to Prince Albert, when Schbnbein offered to explode a portion on the hand of Colonel B ; who would, however, have nothing to franklin's discoveries. Of all this great man's scientific excellencies, the most remarkable is the smallness, the simplicity, the apparent inadequacy of the means which he employed in his experimental researches. His dis- coveries were all made with hard- ly any apparatus at all; and if, at any time, he had been led to employ instruments of a some- what less ordinary description, he never rested satisfied until he had, as it were, afterwards translated the process, by resolving the prob- lem with such simple machinery, that you might say he had done it wholly unaided by apparatus. The experiments by which the identity of lightning and electrici- ty was demonstrated, were made with a sheet of brown paper, a bit of twine or silk thread, and an iron key !-Lord Brougham. SIR ISAAC newton's MAGNET. The smallest natural magnets 106 LAW AND LAWYERS. do with the novel power. Prince Albert himself submitted to the test, and off went the cotton, with- out smoke, stain, or burning of the skin. Thus encouraged, the col- onel took his turn ; but whether the material was changed or not for the coarser preparation, it gave him such a singeing that he leap- ed up with a cry of pain. A hearty laugh was all the commis- eration he received. After this, Professor Schbnbein loaded a fowling-piece with cotton in the place of powder, and the prince tired both ball and shot from it with the usual effect. Dissolved in ether, gun-cotton forms the collodion now extensively employ- ed in photography. Collodion is also used by surgeons, as afford- ing a ready and efficacious plaster for cuts and flesh wounds. LAW AND LAWYERS. LUBRICATING BUSINESS. he could see only peril and hazard in the search for anything new; and with him it was quite enough to characterize a measure as " a mere novelty," to deter him at once from entertaining it-a phrase of which Mr. Speaker Abbott, with some humor, once took advantage to say, when asked by his friend what that mass of papers might be, pointing to the huge bundle of the acts of a single session-"Mere novelties, Sir William-mere nov- elties !"•-Lord Brougham. Sir William Scott, however, possessed much pungent wit. A celebrated physician having said, somewhat more flippantly than beseemed the gravity of his cloth, " Oh, you know, Sir William, af- ter forty a man is always either a fool or a physician !" " Mayn't he be both, Doctor?" was the arch rejoinder, with a most arch leer and an insinuating voice, half drawled out. One day, when some one ob- jected to the practice of hav- ing dinners for parish or pub- lic purposes, " Sir," said Lord Stowell, " I approve of the dining system : it puts people in a good humor, and makes them agree when they otherwise might not: a dinner lubricates business." When Sir E. Coke was made Solicitor-General, Whitgift, the Archbishop of Canterbury, sent him a Greek Testament, with a message, that "he had studied the common law long enough, and that he ought hereafter to study the law of God." RELIGION AND LAW. LORD STOWELL. Sir William Scott (Lord Stow- ell) was the enemy of every change, and careless, and even distrustful of all improvement. As he could imagine nothing better than the existing state of any given thing, We quote the following from LORD ELDON. LAW AND LAWYERS. 107 Mr. Horace Twiss's Life of Lord- Chancellor Eldon: "I have seen it remarked," says Lord Eldon, in his Anecdote Book, " that something which in early youth captivates attention, influences future life in all stages. When I left school, in 1766, to go to Oxford, I came up from New- castle to London in a coach, then denominated, on account of its quick traveling, as traveling was then estimated, a fly; being, as well as I remember, nevertheless, three or four days and nights on the road. There was no such ve- locity as to endanger overturning, or other mischief. On the panels of the carriage were painted the words, ' Sat cito, si sat bene,' words which made a lasting im- pression on my mind, and have had their influence upon my con- duct in all subsequent life. Their effect was heightened by circum- stances during and immediately after the journey. Upon the jour- ney, a Quaker, who was a fellow- traveler, stopped the coach at the inn at Tuxford, desired the cham- bermaid to come to the coach door, and gave her a sixpence, telling her that he forgot to give it her when he slept there two years before. I was a very saucy boy, and said to him, ' Friend, have you seen the motto on this coach ?' ' No.' ' Then look at it; for I think giving her only sixpence now is neither sat cito nor sat bene.' After I got to town, my brother, now Lord Stow- ell, met me at the White Horse, in Fetter Lane, Holborn, then the great Oxford house, as I was told. He took me to see the play at Drury Lane. Love played Jbfoon in the farce, and Miss Pope played Nell. When we came out of the house it rained hard. There were then few hackney-coaches, and we got both into one sedan-chair. Turning out of Fleet street into Fetter Lane, there was a sort of contest between our chairmen and some persons who were coming up Fleet street, whether they should first pass Fleet street, or we in our chair first get out of Fleet street into Fetter Lane. In the struggle, the sedan-chair was overset, with us in it. This, thought I, is more than sat cito, and certainly it is not sat bene. In short, in all that I have had to do in my future life, professional and judicial, I have always felt the effect of this early admonition, on the panels of the vehicle which conveyed me from school-' Sat cito, si sat bene? It was the im- pression of this which made me that deliberative judge-as some have said, too deliberative-and reflection upon all that is past will not authorize me to deny that, whilst I have been thinking sat cito, si sat bene, I may not have sufficiently recollected whether sat bene, si sat cito, has had its due influence." romilly's affection. Sir Samuel Romilly, when a child, was intrusted to a female domestic, whom he thus tenderly refers to in his Diary: " The servant whom I have mentioned, was to me in the place of a mother. I loved her to adoration. I re- member, when quite a child, kiss- ing, unperceived by her, the clothes which she wore; and when she 108 LAW AND LAWYERS. once entertained a design of quit- ting our family, and going to live with her own relations, receiving the news as that of the greatest misfortune that could befall me, and going up to my room in an agony of affliction, and imploring God, upon my knees, to avert so terrible a calamity." ried to bed, and he has been dreaming about himself and the pavement.' " PARLIAMENTARY REPRIMAND. In the reign of George II, one Crowle, a counsel of some emi- nence, made some observation be- fore an election committee, which was considered to reflect on the House itself. He was according- ly summoned to appeal' at their bar; and, on his knees, he re- ceived a reprimand from the Speaker. As he rose from the floor, with the utmost nonchalance, he took out his handkerchief, and wiping his'knees, coolly observed, that "it was the dirtiest house he had ever been in in his life." Johnson's boswell. Lord Eldon relates in his Anec- dote Book: " At an assizes at Lancaster, we found Dr. John- son's friend, Jemmy Boswell, ly- ing upon the pavement-inebria- ted. We subscribed, at supper, a guinea for him, and half-a-crown for his clerk, and sent him, when he waked next morning, a brief, with instructions to move, for what we denominated the writ of iQuare adhcesit pavimento, with observations duly calculated to induce him to think that it re- quired great learning to explain the necessity of granting it, to the judge, before whom he was to move. Boswell sent all round the town to attorneys, for books that might enable him to distinguish himself; but in vain. He moved, however, fbr the writ, making the best use he could of the observa- tions in the brief. The judge was perfectly astonished, and the audi- ence amazed. The judge said, ' I never heard of such a writ; what can it be that adheres pavimento ? Are any of you gentlemen at the bar able to explain this?' The bar laughed. At last, one of them said, ' My Lord, Mr. Bos- well last night adhcesit pavimento. There was no moving him for some time. At last, he was car- EQUIVOCAL ILLUSTRATION. Sir Fletcher Norton was noted for his want of courtesy. When pleading before Lord Mansfield on some question of manorial right, he chanced unfortunately to say : " My Lord, I can illustrate the point in an instance in my own person: I myself have two little manors." The judge immediately interposed, with one of his bland- est smiles, " We all know it, Sir Fletcher." lord erskine's points. A gentleman, who has exam- ined several of Lord Erskine's briefs, states that notes and inter- lineations were few, but that par- ticular parts were doubled down, and dashed with peculiar empha- sis; his plan being to throw all his strength upon the grand features of the case, instead of frittering it away upon details. LAW AND LAWYERS. 109 lord kenyon's lapsus. hands, on which was written "Eze- kiel." This was enough for such a shrewd and able man as his lord- ship. He forthwith took his cue. " What fine poetry," said the Chan- cellor, "is in Isaiah !" "Very fine," replied the man, " especially when read in the original Hebrew." "And how well Jeremiah wrote!" "Surely," said the man. "What a genius, too, was Ezekiel!" "Do you like him ?" said the man; " I'll tell you a secret-I am Eze- kiel!" Lord Kenyon, on the trial of a bookseller for publishing Paine's JL/e of Reason, in his charge to the jury, enumerated many celebrated men who had been sincere Chris- tians ; and, after having enforced the example of Locke and Newton, proceeded : " Nor, gentlemen, is this belief confined to men of com- parative seclusion, since men, the greatest and most distinguished, both as philosophers and as mon- archs, have enforced this belief, and shown its influence by their conduct. Above all, gentlemen, need I name to you the Emperor Julian, who was so celebrated for the practice of every Christian virtue, that he was called Julian the Apostle !" LORD BROUGHAM'S CHANCEL- LORSHIP. Lord Brougham had a great horror of hearing the almost in- terminable speeches which some of the junior counsel wrere in the habit of making, after he con- ceived everything had been said which could be said on the real merits of the case before the court, by the gentlemen who preceded them. His hints to them to be brief on such occasions were some- times extremely happy. Once, after listening with the greatest attention to the speeches of two counsel on one side, from ten o'clock until half-past two, a third rose to address the court on the same side. His lordship was quite unprepared for this additional in- fliction, and exclaimed, " What I Mr. A , are you really going to speak on the same side ?" " Yes, my lord, I mean to tres- pass on your lordship's attention for a short time." " Then," said his lordship, look- ing the orator significantly in the face, and giving a sudden twitch of his nose-" then, Mr. A , It is very well known that, by the laws of England, the Lord- Chancellor is held to be the guar- dian of the persons and property of all such individuals as are said to be no longer of sound mind and good disposing memory-in fine, to have lost their senses. Lord-Chan- cellor Loughborough once ordered to be brought to him a man against whom his heirs wished to take out a statute of lunacy. He examined him very attentively, and put va- rious questions to him, to all of which he made the most pertinent and apposite answers. " This man mad!" thought he; "verily, he is one of the ablest men I ever met with." Towards the end of his examination, however, a little scrap of paper, torn from a letter, was put into Lord Loughborough's A MONOMANIAC. 110 LITERARY' DIVERSION you had better cut your speech as short as possible, otherwise you must not be surprised if you see me dozing; for really this is more than human nature can en- dure." The young barrister took the hint: he kept closely to the point at issue-a thing very rarely done by barristers-and condensed his arguments into a reasonable com- pass. (vol. i, p. 518) states, that "on the reverse of Hipparchia Janira (a butterfly), may be traced a very tolerably defined profile, and some specimens, no very bad likeness of Lord Brougham. The Cari- cature Plant in Kew Gardens has been observed to represent on its fantastically variegated leaves the same remarkable profile; and a more permanent likeness than either, is pointed out to visitors to the island of Arran, sculptured by nature on the rugged peaks of Goatfell. The Entomological Magazine NATURAL PORTRAITS. LITERARY DIVERSION. About the middle of the sev- enteenth century, the scribes, or rather those whose ambition was not of the most soaring order, used to divert themselves and rack their inventive powers, By torturing and twisting their verses into odd devices and shapes, ex- pressive of the themes they dis- cussed-as might be expected, to the serious detriment of their po- etic merit. Many of these fan- tastic performances were of gro- tesque or even ludicrous descrip- tion, such as fans, and toilet glasses, and frocks, for love songs; wine-glasses, bottles, and flagons, for drinking songs ; pulpits, altars, and tomb-stones, for religious vers- es and epitaphs ; and even flying angels, Grecian temples, and Egyptian pyramids, for patriotic effusions. Another species of literary di- version may be noticed in the curious combination of words, mostly in Latin, by some of the early writers, in which, however, their wit is less discernible than their patient ingenuity. One of these has calculated that the fol- lowing verses might be changed in their order, and re-combined in thirty-nine million, nine hun- dred and sixteen thousand eight hundred different ways ; and that to complete the writing out of this series of combinations, it would occupy a man ninety-one years and forty-nine days, if he wrote at the rate of twelve hun- dred verses daily. This is the wondrous distich: " Lex, grex, rex, spes, res, jus thus, sal, sol, bonna lux, laus ! Mars, inors, sors, fraux, fcex, Styx, nox, crux, pus, mala cis, lis ! " This singular jumble in poetry has been thus rendered into Eng- lish : " Law, flocks, king, hopes, right incense, salt, sun good torch, praise to you. Mars, death, destiny, fraud, impurity, Styx, LITERARY PROPERTY AND REMUNERATION. 111 night, the cross, bad humors, and evil pow- er, may you be condemned." Among the ingenious pastimes of poets, we must notice the fol- lowing, which is unique in its way -each word reads the same backwards and forwards: " Odo tenet mulum, Madidam mappam tennet anna." This couplet cost the author, says an old book, a world of fool- ish labor. • The following Latin verse, which is composed with much in- genuity, affords two very opposite meanings by merely transposing the order of the words : " Prospicimus modo, quod durabunt, tem- pore longo, Foedera, nee patriae pax cito diffugiet." " Diffugiet cito pax patriae, nec foedera longo. Tempore durabunt, quodmodo prospicimus." The following is another speci- men of literary ingenuity. Two words of opposite meanings, spell- ed with exactly the same letters, form a Telestick; that is, the letters beginning the lines, when united, were to give one of the words, and the letters at the end were to produce the other-thus : " Unite and untie are the same-so say yoU Notin wedlock, I ween, has the unity beeN In the drama of marriage each wandering gouT To a new face would fly-all except you and I Each seeking to alter the spell in their scenE." LITERARY PROPERTY AND REMUNERATION. SALE OF LITERARY WORKS. five shillings ; and Cibber, for his Nonjuror, obtained one hundred and five pounds. The ultimate sale of the copy- right of Paradise Lost, produced to Milton's widow eight pounds ; and Dryden received from Ton- son two pounds thirteen shillings and nine pence for every hundred lines of his poetry. From an old account book of Bernard Lintot, the bookseller, the following information respect- ing the prices paid heretofore for the copyright of plays is obtained. Tragedies were then the fash- ionable drama, and obtained the best price. Dr. Young received for his Busiris, eighty-four pounds; Smith for his Phcedra and Hippo- lytus, fifty pounds ; Rowe for his Jane Shore, fifty pounds and fifteen shillings; and for Lady Jane Gray, seventy-five pounds and LALLA ROOKH. The publisher of Lalla Rookh gave three thousand guineas for the copyright of that poem. Jacob Tonson, the most emi- nent of his profession as a pub- lisher, having refused to advance Dryden a sum of money for a work in which he was engaged, the en- raged bard sent a message to him, and the following lines, add- ing, " Tell the dog that he who wrote these can write more: ' With leering looks, bull-faced and freckled skin, With two left legs, and Judas-colored hair, And frowsy pores, that taint the ambient air.' " JACOB TONSON AND DRYDEN. 112 MAGAZINES. The bookseller felt the force of the description, and to avoid the completion of the portrait, imme- diately sent the money. were valued as one lot, by a third party. On my next seeing Mr. Longman, he told me that, in es- timating the value of the copy- rights, Fox's Achmed and Words- worth's Lyrical Ballads were ' reckoned as nothing.' 1 That be- ing the case,' I replied, 'as both these authors are my personal friends, 1 should be obliged if you would return me again these two copyrights, that I may have the pleasure of presenting them to the respective writers.' Mr. Long- man answered, with his accustom- ed liberality, ' You are welcome to them.' On my reaching Bris- tol, I gave Mr. Fox his receipt for twenty guineas, and on Cole- ridge's return from the north, I gave him Mr. Wordsworth's re- ceipt for his thirty guineas ; so that whatever advantage has arisen subsequently from the sale of this volume of the Lyrical Ballads, I am happy to say, has pertained exclusively to Mr. Wordsworth." CHEAPNESS OF LITERARY WORKS. '•'As a curious literary fact," says Cottle, " I might mention that the sale of the first edition of the Lyrical Ballads was so slow, and the severity of most of the reviews so great, that their pro- gress to oblivion, notwithstanding the merit which 1 was quite sure they possessed, seemed to be or- dained to be rapid as it was cer- tain. I had given thirty guineas for the copyright; but the heavy sale induced me at length to part with them at a loss-the largest proportion of the impression of five hundred to Mr. Arch, a Lon- don bookseller. " On my reaching London, hav- ing an account to settle with Messrs. Longman and Rees, the booksellers of Paternoster Row, I sold them all my copyrights, which MAGAZINES. Sir John Hawkins, in his Me- moirs of Johnson, ascribes the de- cline of literature to the ascen- dency of frivolous magazines, be- tween the years 1740 and 1760. He says that they render smatter- ers conceited, and confer the su- perficial glitter of knowledge in- stead of its substance. Sir Richard Phillips, upwards of forty years a publisher, gives the following evidence as to the sale of the magazines in his time : " For my own part, I know that in 1790, and for many years previously, there was sold of the trifle called the Town and Country Magazine, full 15,000 copies per month ; and, of another, the La- dies' Magazine, from 16,000 to 22,000. Such circumstances were, therefore, calculated to draw forth the observations of Hawkins. The Gentleman's Magazine, in its days of popular extracts, never rose above 10,000; after it be- MARRIAGES OF MEN OF GENIUS. 113 came more decidedly antiquarian, it fell in sale, and continued for many years at 3000. There was also a lighter work, the European Magazine, and one better selected, called the Universal Magazine, both of which sold also to the lat- ter extent. These were the peri- odicals with which I had to con- tend when I began the Monthly Magazine in 1795 ; but, till 1824, when I sold that work, the aver- age regular sale did not exceed 3500 or 3750. accountably passes for the earli- est periodical of that description ; while, in fact, it was preceded nearly forty years by the Gentle- man's Journal, of Motteux, a work much more closely resembling our modern magazines, and from which Sylvanus Urban borrow- ed part of his title and part of his motto; while on the first page of the first number of the Gentleman's Magazine itself, it is stated to contain " more than any book of the kind and price." -Mr. Watts, of the British Mu- seum. The Gentleman's Magazine un- THE FIRST MAGAZINE. MARRIAGES OF MEN OF GENIUS. Marriages of men of genius is one of the strangest themes in the history of literature. Goethe married to become respectable; Niebuhr to please a mistress; Churchill because he was miser- able ; Napoleon to get a com- mand ; Wilkes to oblige his friends; Wycherly to spite his relations. The author of Salad for the Soli- tary, furnishes the following pi- quant morceaux, touching the mar- riage of two French litterateurs of celebrity: "Mr. Balzac, the French nov- elist, exhibits another example of eccentricity in matrimonial affairs. According to a Parisian correspon- dent, the arrival of this celebrated author from Germany, caused an im- mense sensation in certain circles, owing to the romantic circumstan- ces connected with his marriage. When Balzac was at the zenith of his fame, he was traveling in Switzerland, and had arrived at the inn just at the very moment the Prince and Princess Hanski were leaving it. Balzac was ush- ered into the room they had just vacated, and was leaning from the window to observe their depart- ure, when his attention was ar- rested by a soft voice at his el- bow, asking for a book which had been left behind upon the window- seat. The lady was certainly fair, but appeared doubly so in the eyes of the poor author, when she intimated that the book she was in quest of was the pocket edition of his own works, adding that she never traveled without it, and that without it she could not ex- ist ! She drew the volume from beneath his elbow, and flew down stairs, obedient to the screaming summons of her husband-a pur- 114 MECHANICAL TRIUMPHS. sy old gentleman, who was al- ready seated in the carriage, rail- ing in a loud voice against dilato- ry habits of women in general, and his own spouse in particular ; and the emblazoned vehicle drove off, leaving the novelist in a state of self-complacency the most en- viable to be conceived. This was the only occasion upon which Bal- zac and the Princess Hanski had met,till his recent visit to Germany, when he presented himself as her accepted husband. During these long intervening fifteen years, however, a literary correspond- ence was steadily kept up between the parties,till at length, instead of a letter containing literary stric- tures upon his writings, a missive of another kind-having a still more directly personal tendency- reached him from the fair hand of the princess. It contained the announcement of the demise of her husband, the prince-that he had bequeathed to her his do- mains, and his wealth-and con- sequently, that she felt bound to requite him in some measure for his liberality, and had determined upon giving him a successor-in the person of Balzac. It is need- less to state that the delighted au- thor waited not a second sum- mons ; they were forthwith united in wedlock, at her chateau on the Rhine, and a succession of splen- did fetes celebrated the auspicious event. The story of the mar- riage of Lamartine is also one of romantic interest. The lady, whose maiden name was Birch, was possessed of considerable prop- erty, and when past the bloom of youth, she became passionately enamored of the poet, from the perusal of his ' Meditations for some time she nursed this senti- ment in secret, and being, appris- ed of the embarrassed state of his affairs, she wrote him, tendering him the bulk of her fortune. Touched with this remarkable proof of her generosity, and sup- posing it could only be caused by a preference for himself, he at once made an offer of his hand and heart. He judged rightly, and the poet was promptly accept- ed." MECHANICAL TRIUMPHS. Contributing, as they do, to our most immediate and pressing wants -appealing to the eye by their magnitude, and often by their grandeur, and associated, in many cases, with the warmer impulses of humanity and personal safety- the labors of the mechanist and en- gineer acquire a cotemporary cele- brity, which is not vouchsafed to the results of scientific research, or to the productions of literature and the fine arts. The gigantic steam-vessel, which expedites and facilitates the intercourse of na- tions-the canal, which unites two distant seas-the bridge and the aqueduct, which span an im- passable valley-the harbor and the breakwater, which shelter our MEDICAL MEN. 115 vessels of peace and of war-the railway which hurries us along on the wings of mechanism, and the light beacon which throws its di- recting beams over the deep-ad- dress themselves to the secular interest of every individual, and obtain for the engineers, who in- vented or who planned them, a high and well-merited popular reputa- tion.-Macaulay. MEDICAL MEN. Aftei' Harvey had made the great discovery of the circulation of the blood, he durst not, for many years, even drop a hint up- on the subject in his comparative- ly private lectures, and it was not until nearly thirty years had elapsed that he ventured to pub- lish to the world, not in his own country, but at Frankfort, the re- sults of his experiments. And then nothing could exceed the contempt and ridicule with which it was received. Had he lived in a country unblessed with the light of the Reformation,he would prob- ably have shared the fate of Galileo. As it was,he was accused of propa- gating doctrines tending to sub- vert the authority of Holy Scrip- ture ; the epithet circulator, in its Latin invidious signification (quack), was applied to him; it was given out that he was " crack- brained," and his practice as a physician sensibly declined. In a quarter of a century more his system was received in all the universities of the world, and Harvey lived to enjoy the repu- tation he so justly merited. HARVEY. physician, and author of a num- ber of medical works, was a great economist of time. In the inter- vals of professional duty his pen was always in his hand, and he was accustomed to write with great fluency. In preparing his manuscript upon any particular subject-as, for instance, more especially his articles for the Cy- clopaedia-he was in the habit of noting down on a scrap of paper the heads into which he thought of dividing his subject, of then reading all the books upon it which lie had occasion to consult, after which he arranged in his mind all he proposed to say, so that when he began to write he considered his labor done. He wrote, indeed, as fast as his pen could move, and with so little ne- cessity of correction or interline- ation, that his first copy always went to the printer. Neither was any part of this process hastily or inconsiderately performed. He said that to prepare for the single article on " Imagination," in the Edinburgh Encyclopaedia, he read the greater part of one-and-twen- ty volumes. ECONOMY OF TIME. DISCOVERY OF VACCINATION. Dr. Bateman, the well-known It was long after Dr. Jenner 116 MEDICAL MEN. first conceived the idea of pre- venting small-pox by vaccination, that he elaborated' his great dis- covery, and still longer before he durst promulgate it to the world. In 1780, he divulged his views to a friend, expressing his confident conviction that it was destined to benefit the human race. It was not till after sixteen years of patient and searching investigation that the efficacy of the discovery was effectually tested on the human subject. The causes of failure, in the casual dissemination of the disease, were next ascertained, and his chief care was to avoid them in attempting to propagate it by artificial means. He has left us an interesting picture of his feelings during this eventful period. "While the vaccine dis- covery was progressive, the joy I felt at the prospect before me, of being the instrument destined to take away from the world one of its greatest calamities, blended with the fond hope of enjoying independence, and domestic peace and happiness, were often so ex- cessive, that in pursuing my fa- vorite among the meadows, I have sometimes found myself in a kind of reverie. It is pleasant to me to recollect that those re- flections always ended in devout acknowledgments to that Being from whom this and all other blessings flow." At length, on the 14th of May, 1796, an opportunity occurred of making a decisive trial. (On the annual occurrence of this day a festival is held at Berlin to com- memorate the event.) Matter was taken from the hand of Sarah Nelmes, who had been infected by her master's cows, and inserted by two superficial incisions into the arms of James Phipps, a healthy boy of about eight years of age. lie went through the dis- ease apparently in a very satis- factory manner, but the most anx- ious part of the trial still re- mained to be performed. Was he secure against the contagion of small-pox ? This point was fully put to issue. Variolous matter, immediately taken from a pustule, was carefully inserted by several incisions, and the result is related by Jenner to his friend Gardner in the following lan- guage : " But now listen to the most delightful part of my story. The boy has since been inoculated for the small-pox, which, as I ventured to predict, produced no effect. I shall now pursue my studies with redoubled ardor." After zealously multiplying his experiments, Jenner published his first memoir in June, 1798. He had originally intended, it ap- pears, to have announced them to the world, in the Transactions of the Royal Society. In Moore's " History of Vaccination," we find the true cause of their not appearing in that form. He had been seriously admonished not to present liis paper, lest it should injure the character he had ac- quired amongst scientific men by a paper he had already published in those " Transactions " on the " Cuckoo I" Before the publica- tion of this work, Jenner went up to London for the purpose of ex- hibiting the cow pox, and of de- monstrating to his professional MEDICAL MEN. 117 friends, the accuracy of his delin- eations and the truth of his asser- tions. All were received with the greatest distrust. During a resi- dence of three months, he could not obtain permission to exhibit the vaccine disease upon one in- dividual. Mr. Cline was the only profes- sional man who perceived the im- portance of Jenner's discovery, and predicted his success. He advised Jenner to come to Lon- don and settle as a practitioner; but nothing could induce him to leave Gloucestershire. The no- bility of his nature is shown in the reply he made to the tempt- ing prospect set before him by his adviser. " Shall I," he writes, " who, even in the morning of my days, sought the lowly and se- questered paths of life, the valley and not the mountain-shall I, now my evening is fast approach- ing, hold myself up as an object for fortune and for fame? Ad- mitting it is a certainty that I ob- tain both, what stock shall I add to my little fund of happiness? And as for fame, what is it ? A gilded bait for ever pierced with the arrows of malignancy." But nothing could arrest the progress of Jenner's brilliant and beneficent discovery, which at last bore down incredulity, indif- ference, hostility and ridicule. In 1799, thirty-three of the leading physicians, and forty eminent sur- geons of London, signed an ex- pression of their confidence in the efficacy of vaccination. The con- fidence of the public was speedily won for it by the remarkable dim- inution of mortality which follow- ed its introduction. Jenner bore his success with the same equa- nimity which he evinced under the neglect and ridicule of the profession, and always manifested a forgiving spirit towards those who had been his calumniators. He died in 1823, full of years and honors. VACCINATION. The Empress Dowager, Mary of Russia, and several foreign po- tentates, sent gratulatory address- es to Dr. Jenner on his discovery of vaccination, which has rapidly gained ground in every quarter of the globe. A few instances of this kind are worthy of being re- corded. When Dr. Wickham was made prisoner in France, Dr. Jenner was applied to as the fittest per- son for addressing to Bonaparte a petition soliciting that physi- cian's liberation. This was at the time of Napoleon's greatest animosity to this country. It happened thus : the emperor was in his carriage, and the horses were being changed. The peti- tion was then presented to him. He exclaimed, "Away! away!" The empress Josephine, who ac- companied him, said, " But, em- peror, do you see who this comes from ? Jenner! " He changed his tone of voice that instant, and said, " What that man asks is not to be refused; " and the petition was immediately granted. The emperor also liberated many oth- ers, even whole families, from time to time, at the request of Dr. Jen- ner. Indeed, he never refused any request made by Dr. Jenner, 118 MEDICAL MEN. who of course observed proper delicacy in not applying too often. favor of more recent discoveries, the original obligation to Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, for the introduction of the art of inocula- tion into this kingdom. Mr. Maitland, who had attended the embassy in a medical character, first endeavored to establish the practice of it in London, and was encouraged by her patronage. In 1721, as its expediency had been much agitated among scien- tific men, an experiment, to be sanctioned by the College of Phy- sicians, was allowed by Govern- ment. Five persons, under con- demnation, willingly encountered the danger with the hopes of life. Upon four of them the eruption appeared on the seventh day; the fifth was a woman, on whom it never appeared, but she confessed that she had it when an infant. With so much ardor did Lady Mary enforce this salutary inno- vation among mothers of her own rank in life, that, as we find in her letters, much of her time was necessarily dedicated to various consultations, and in superintend- ing the success of her plan.-Me- moirs by Daliaway. lady Montagu's residence in TURKEY, AND INTRODUCTION OF INOCULATION INTO BRIT- AIN. The heat of Constantinople, dur- ing the summer months, is excess- ive, and the European embassies usually retire to the shores of the Bosphorus, or the village of Bel- grade, about fourteen miles dis- tant. In these delicious shades, and most beautiful forest scenery, Lady Mary was happy to pass her days. No English traveler visits Belgrade without partici- pating in her pleasure in her de- scription, and inquiring after the site of her residence. At present no part of the house remains, for such is the fragility of Turk- ish structures, excepting their mosques, that they seldom last a century. There was a custom prevalent among the villagers, and, indeed, universal in the Turkish domin- ions, which she examined with philosophical curiosity, and at length became perfectly satisfied with its efficacy. It was that of ingrafting, or, as it is now called, inoculating with variolous matter, in order to produce a milder dis- ease, and to prevent the ravages made by the small-pox on the lives and beauty of European pa- tients. The process was simple, and she did not hesitate to apply it to her son, at that time about three years old. This was in March, 1717. National gratitude, if directed by justice, will not overlook, in ABERNETHY AND JOHN PHILPOT CURRAN. A curious scene once took place between Abernethy and the fa- mous John Philpot Curran. Mr. Curran being personally unknown to Mr. Abernethy, had visited him repeatedly without having had an opportunity of explaining to the surgeon, so fully as he thought necessary, the nature of his malady. At last he determ- ined on obtaining a hearing, and MEDICAL MEN. 119 fixing his keen dark eye on the "doctor," he said, "Mr. Aber- nethy, 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 an indefatigable listener, replied in a tone of half humor, half sarcasm-"O, very well, sir! I am ready to hear you out; go on: give me the whole, your birth, parentage and educa- tion: I wait your pleasure; go on." Upon which, Curran, not a whit disconcerted, gravely began: "My name is John Philpot Cur- ran. 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 1750. My father being employed to col- lect the rents of a Protestant gentleman of small fortune, in that neighborhood, procured my ad- mission into one of the Protestant free schools, where I obtained the first rudiments of my education. I was next enabled to enter Trin- ity College, Dublin, in the humble sphere of a sizer." 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 neces- sary to add, that Mr. Abernethy's attention to his gifted patient was, from that time to the close of his life, assiduous and devoted. ABERNETHY A CLASS ILLUS- TRATION. Few old pupils (says M'U- waine, who was one of them,) will forget the story of the major who had dislocated his jaw. This ac- cident is a very simple one, and easily put right; but having once happened, is apt to recur on any unusual extension of the lower jaw. Abernethy used to repre- sent this as a frequent occurrence with the hilarious major; but, as it generally happened at mess, the surgeon went round to him, and immediately put it in again. One day, however, the major was dining about fourteen miles from the regiment, and, in a hearty laugh, out went his jaw. They sent for the medical man, whom, said Abernethy, we must call the apothecary. Well, at first he thought the jaw was dislocated; but he began to pull and to show that he knew nothing about the proper mode of putting it right again. On this the major began to be very excited, and vociferat- ed inarticulately in a strange man- ner ; when, all at once, the doctor, as if he had just hit on the nature of the case, suggested that the major's complaint was in his brain, and that he could not be in his right mind. On hearing this, the major became furious, which was regarded as confirmatory of the doctor's opinion. They accord- ingly seized him, confined him in a strait-waistcoat, and put him to bed, and the doctor ordered that 120 MEDICAL MEN. the barber should be sent for to shave the head, and a blister to be applied to the part affected. The major, fairly' beaten, ceased making resistance, but made the best signs his situation and his imperfect articulation allowed, for pen and paper. This being hail- ed as indicative of returning ra- tionality, writing materials were set before him ; and as soon as he was sufficiently freed from his bonds, he wrote - "For God's sake send for the surgeon of the regiment." This was accordingly done, and the jaw readily reduced, as it had been often before. " I hope," added Abernethy, " you will never forget how to reduce a dislocated jaw." The emperor arrived, and the promised interview took place in the most gracious form. The Doctor was ushered into a room, which soon after his imperial ma- jesty entered alone. He pro- nounced the words " Dr. Jenner I" (which was returned with a re- spectful bow) and then advanced and touched his right shoulder. Alexander shortly commenced a discourse upon the astonishing ef- fects of vaccination in Russia; and Dr. Jenner had the pleasure of hearing him declare, that the vaccine had nearly subdued the small-pox throughout the country. Dr. Jenner then told the emperor that he had the highest gratifica- tion at hearing such an important fact from his majesty himself. The Doctor next presented the monarch with a volume of his own works upon the subject; and added, " that in whatever country vaccination was conducted in a similar way to that which his maj- esty had commanded in the Rus- sian empire, the small-pox must necessarily become extinct." In a few days afterwards Count Orloff, with whom he had been long acquainted, from attendance on his countess, waited on Dr. Jen- ner, and asked him if a Russian order would be acceptable to him, should his majesty be graciously pleased to confer it. Dr. Jenner replied, that he thought this ex- clusively belonged to men of per- fect independence. The count expressed his surprise at his not possessing a pecuniary independ- ence. Dr. Jenner answered, that he possessed a village fortune, though not what came under the JENNER AND THE FOREIGN POTENTATES. When the foreign potentates arrived in this country in 1814, they all expressed a wish to see Dr. Jenner; he was first intro- duced to the Grand Duchess of Oldenburgh, when the conversa- tion turned upon philosophical subjects, and her imperial high- ness astonished the doctor by the extent of her information. Dr. Jenner requested her imperial highness, when she wrote to her august mother, to have the good- ness to say that he had a grate- ful remembrance of the kind at- tention which she showed him. " When I write?" she replied, "I will write this very evening!" At parting, she said, " Dr. Jenner, you must see the emperor, my brother, who is expected here soon." Dr. Jenner bowed ac- quiescence and withdrew. MEDICAL MEN; 121 general acceptation of the term independence. By appointment, Dr. Jenner waited on the King of Prussia. The Dr. came rather late, and the king was in haste to go to church. His majesty, however, gave him a very polite reception, and apolo- gized for being under the necessi- ty of going to church ; but made, as did the other sovereigns, a gen- eral acknowledgment of the obli- gations of the world to Dr. Jen- ner. His Prussian majesty was the first crowned head who sub- mitted his own offspring to vacci- nation ; and the Emperor of Aus- tria followed his example. After the king was gone, the crown- prince, and many others of the il- lustrious foreigners, honored Dr. Jenner with particular notice, and gave him a pressing invitation to Berlin. Dr. Jenner's next presentation was to Blucher. He was very polite, and rather facetious. Be- fore the general entered the room, a Turkish tobacco-pipe (a Turkey bowl with an alder stick) was brought in by a servant, upon a velvet cushion. The next interview was with Platoff. To the astonishment of Dr. Jenner, who was accompanied by Dr. Hamel (a physician born on the banks of the Don, and ac- quainted with the Cossack lan- guage), the count proved to be quite a polished gentleman, had a knowledge of vaccination and practiced it. He said, "Sir, you have extinguished the most pesti- lential disorder that ever appeared on the banks of the Don." SIR RICHARD JEBB. This eminent physician used to tell a story of himself, which made even rapacity comical, lie was attending a nobleman, from whom he had a right to expect a fee of five guineas: he received only three. Suspecting some trick on the part of the steward, from whom he received it, he, at the next visit, contrived to drop three guineas. They were picked up, and again deposited in his hand; but he still continued to look on the carpet. His lordship asked if all the guineas were found. " There must be two still on the floor," replied Sir Richard, " for I have but three." The hint was taken as he meant. SIR HANS SLOANE'S LIBERALITY. Sir Ilans Sloane was a governor in almost every hospital about London ; to each he gave a hun- dred pounds in his lifetime; and, at his death, a sum more consid- erable. He formed the plan of a dispensatory, where the poor might be furnished with proper medi- cines at prime cost; which, with the assistance of the College of Physicians, was afterwards car- ried into execution. He gave the company of apothecaries the en- tire freehold of their botanical garden at Chelsea ; in the centre of which a marble statue of him is erected, admirably executed, by Rysback, and the likeness striking. He did all he could to forward the colony in Georgia, in 1732; of the Foundling Hospi- tal, in 1739, and formed the plan 122 MEDICAL MEN. for bringing up the children. He was the first in England who in- troduced, into general practice, the use of bark, not only in fevers, but in a variety of other cases; particularly in nervous disorders, in mortifications, and in violent hemorrhages. His cabinet of cu- riosities, which he had taken so much pains to collect, he be- queathed to the public, on condi- tion, that the sum of £20,000 should be paid to his family; which sum, though large, was not the original cost, and scarce more than the intrinsic value of the gold and silver medals, the ores and precious stones, that were found in it. Besides these, there was his library, consisting of more than 50,000 volumes, 347 of which were illustrated with cuts, finely engraven, and colored from nature; 3566 manuscripts; and an infinite number of rare and cu- rious books. The Parliament accepted his bequest; and that magnificent structure, called Mon- tague House, in great Russell Street, Bloomsbury, was pur- chased for the reception of this collection, as well as for that of the Cottonian Library, and the Harleian manuscripts ; and thus, Sir Hans Sloane became the founder of the British Museum, one of the noblest collections in the world. But the wits, who never spare a character, however eminently great and useful, more than once took occasion to ridicule this good man for a taste, the utili- ty of which they did not compre- hend, but which was honored with the unanimous approbation of the British legislature. Thus Young, in his Love of Fame: " But what address can be more sublime Than Sloane - the foremost toyman of his time ? His nice ambition lies in curious fancies, His daughter's portion a rich shell enhances, And Ashmole's baby-house is, in his view, Britannia's golden mine-a rich Peru ! How his eyes languish I how his thoughts adore, That painted coat which Joseph never wore I He shows, on holidays, a sacred pin, That touch'd the ruff that touch'd Queen Bess's chin."-Sat. iv, 113-122. MRS. SARAH HASTINGS AND MRS. FRENCH. The memory of female doctors soon vanishes, and seldom reaches beyond their cotemporaries. They sink into the grave, together with their patients, and all remem- brance of their deeds is lost. A few doctresses, however, have by accident acquired a more per- manent fame, by their names being mentioned in some standard work, which preserves their memory: this is the case with Mrs. Sarah Hastings and Mrs. French, of Leicester, who have had their names immortalized by their cures being recorded in the Philosophi- cal Transactions. OLD AGE OF BOERHAVE. The name of Boerhave is justly regarded as one of the most illus- trious in the calendar of modern medicine. After having vigor- ously struggled with poverty in his youth, his talents and his fame at length created a fortune for him; and it is said that he left two millions of florins to his only son. Did this wealth alter the man? Let us learn from his own mouth what he was in his MEDICAL MEN. 123 sixty-seventh year; when, in a letter to his old scholar, J. B. Bassaud, then physician to the Emperor of Germany, he writes thus: " My health is very good. I sleep at my country house. I go to town every morning by five o'clock; and I occupy myself there, from that time until six in the evening in relieving the sick. I understand chemistry; I amuse myself in reading it; I revere, I love, I adore, the only God! When I return to the country, I visit my plants: I acknowledge and admire the presents with which the liber- ality of my friend Bassaud has enriched me. My garden seems to be proud of the variety and strength of its trees. I pass my life in contemplating my plants; I grow old in the desire of possess- ing new ones. Amiable and sweet folly! Thus riches only serve to irritate the thirst of possession, and the miser is miserable from the liberality of his benefactor. Forgive the madness of an old friend, who wishes to plant trees, the beauty and shade of which will be destined to give delight only to his nephews. It is thus that my life passes, without any other chagrin than my distance from you, and. happy in every thing else." Wh at an amiable picture does this present of that great and good man! What activity, and what zeal for the relief of suffering hu- manity ! The original letter is written in Latin, and it has been found difficult to catch the spirit of the original. ANCIENT STATE OF SURGERY IN SCOTLAND. When the surgeons of Edin- burgh were, in 1505, incorporated, under the denominations of sur- geons and barbers, it was required of them to be able to read and write! " to know anatomie, na- ture, and complexion of every member of humanis bodie, and lykwayes to know all vaynes of the samyn, that he may make flewbothemie in dew time;" to- gether with a perfect knowledge of shaving beards. These were all the qualifications that seemed necessary to the art of surgery, at the beginning of the sixteenth century. The practice of physic was, if possible, in a still more de- plorable state.- Campbell's Jour- ney from Edinburgh to the High- lands. This eminent physician went from Hanover to attend Frederick the Great in his last illness. One day the king said to him, "You have, I presume, sir, helped many a man into another world ?" This was rather a bitter pill for the doctor; but the dose he gave the king in return was a judicious mixture of truth and flattery: "Not so many as your majesty, nor with so much honor to my- self." ZIMMERMAN. JOHN ABERNETHY HIS WIT AND ECCENTRICITY. A lady consulted him on a nervous disorder, and gave him a long, frivolous, and fantastic de- 124 MEDICAL MEN. tail of her symptoms. He referred her, as was his wont, to his "book," but she persisted in endeavoring to extract further information from him. "May I eat oysters, Doc- tor? May I take supper ?" "I'll tell you what, Madam," replied Mr. Abernethy, impatiently, "you may eat anything but the poker and the bellows; for the one is too hard of digestion, and the other is full of wind." Mr. Ab- ernethy was once prodigiously pleased with the course pursued by a lady who was aware of his aversion to idle loquacity and silly affectation. Entering his consulting-room, without uttering a word, she thrust towards him her finger, which had sustained a severe injury. Mr. Abernethy looked first at her face, and then at her finger, which he dressed. The fair patient then silently with- drew. In a few days she called again, and presented the affected digit. "Better?" inquired the surgeon. " Better," replied the patient. The finger was again dressed, and the lady tacitly re- tired. After several similar calls, the lady at length held out her finger free from bandages, and healed. "Well?" asked Mr. Ab- ernethy. "Well," responded the laconic lady. " Upon my word, Madam," exclaimed the delighted surgeon, "you are the most ration- al woman I ever met with." " Pray, Mr. Abernethy, what is a cure for gout?" inquired a luxurious and indolent citizen. " Live upon sixpence a-day-and earn it!" was the pithy answer. JOHN ABERNETHY HIS INTEG- RITY AND HONOR. On his receiving the appoint- ment of Professor of Anatomy and Surgery to the Royal Col- lege of Surgeons, a professional friend observed to him that they should now have something new. " What do you mean ? " asked Mr. Abernethy. " Why," said the oth- er, "of course you will finish up the lectures which you have been so long delivering at St. Barthol- omew'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 were entitled--the best produce of my mind. If I could have made my lectures to them bet- ter, I would instantly have made them so. I will give the College of Surgeons precisely the same lectures, down to the smallest de- tails-nay, I will tell the old fel- lows how to make a poultice." Soon after, when he was lectur- ing to the students at St. Bar- tholomew's, and adverting to the College of Surgeons, he exclaimed gleefully, " I told the big wigs howto make a poultice!" The great surgeon's description of poultice-making is said to have been extremely diverting. JOHN ABERNETHY HIS GENER- OSITY. In the year 1818, Lieutenant D fell from his horse in Lon- don, and sustained a fracture of MEDICAL MEN. 125 the skull and arm. Mr. Aber- nethy was the nearest surgeon, and being sent for, continued his at- tendance daily for months. When the patient became convalescent, he was enjoined by Mr. Abernethy to proceed to Margate and adopt shell-fish diet. The patient re- quested to know the extent of his pecuniary liability. " Who is that young woman?" inquired Aber- nethy, smilingly. " She is my wife." " What is your rank in the army?" "I am a half-pay Lieutenant." " Oh ! very well, wait till you are a General; then come and see me, and we'll talk about it." One of the students at the Hos- pital indicated to Mr. Abernethy his desire to be appointed his " dresser," the usual fee for which was sixty guineas for the year. Abernethy invited the youth to breakfast with him next morning, to make arrangements; and, in the meantime, on inquiry, found that the young man was attentive and clever, but in straitened cir- cumstances. At the breakfast- table, the student produced a small bag, containing the sixty guineas, and presented it to Mr. Abernethy, who, in the kindest and most considerate manner, de- clined it, insisting upon his apply- ing the money to the purchase of books and other means of im- provement. That student is now a practitioner of considerable emi- nence in the metropolis. ic agent elates no further back than the year 1846. In describ- ing its effects to the Philosophical Society of Glasgow, Dr. Andrew Buchanan, who had at first dis- trusted the astounding properties attributed to it, said, "I have care- fully examined the subject by ac- tual observation and experiment, and I have now to state, as the re- sult, that I am fully satisfied that the statements originally made to me were in no way exaggerated; that the inhalation of ether really has the power of suspending, for a time, the sensibility of the nerves; and that, during the period of sus- pended sensibility, the most for- midable surgical operations may be performed-amputation of the limbs-the dissecting out of tu- mors, and cutting for the stone- without any perception of pain by the person operated upon, and without reason to apprehend any bad consequences, either immedi- ate oi' subsequent. I can honestly declare that I have seen all these, and many other operations per- formed ; and that the patients, when put fully under the influence of the ether, gave no indications of feeling pain during these opera- tions, and declared afterwards that they had felt none, which is the whole evidence that the case ad- mits of. So great a triumph of the medical art I never expected to witness; but it should not ex- cite feelings of exultation merely, but should be received with grati- tude and with thankfulness, as a great boon which it has pleased the Giver of all good to bestow, in his compassion for the sufferings of mankind." - Proceedings of the ETHER AND CHLOROFORM, AS ANAESTHETIC AGENTS. The practice of the inhalation of sulphuric ether as an ansesthet- 126 MEDICAL MEN. Philosophical Society of Glasgow, 1847. In the same year, Dr. Simpson of Edinburgh, found that chloro- form, when inhaled into the lungs, produced the same effect as ether, and could be more readily and easily administered. This body (which was only discovered in 1831) has now entirely superseded ether in surgical and midwifery practice. The same property has been observed (1853) to be pos- sessed by a lycoperdon (or puff- ball), which has been employed to render bees insensible without de- stroying them. DR. JAMES HOPE AND THE STETHOSCOPE. The late Dr. James Hope had long assigned to himself the execu- tion of two works-A Treatise on Diseases of the Heart, and on J/br- bid Anatomy, illustrated by plates; and for the completion of them he allotted seven years. The materi- als for the latter work were nearly prepared, and the only difficulty he had to encounter in its publica- tion was the enormous expense of the engravings. But the subject of "Diseases of the Heart" was then not very well understood. He had bestowed much thought upon it, from the period of his medical studies at Edinburgh. It appeared essential that he should continue his studies at some large hospital, and he selected St. George's, Lon- don, as the one to which his am- bition prompted him to hope he should one day be physician, which he afterwards became. Here he soon became conspicuous for his regular attendance and unvarying application. Never was he to be seen without his stethoscope, his book for taking notes of cases, and a small ink-bottle attached to his button. At that time there was much prejudice in England, and especially at St. George's, against "auscultation" (the use of the stethoscope,) in the examination of diseases of the chest. This Dr. Hope determined to remove, and he adopted the most judicious course, namely, that of leaving facts to speak for themselves. He took the most minute notes of them DR. PARR AND DR. S. JOHNSON. Dr. Robert Gooch published in Blackwood's Magazine a lively ac- count of a visit to the venerable Dr. Parr, at Warwick, in 1822. Speaking of the advantages and disadvantages of different profes- sions, Parr naturally gave the preference to that of physic, as being equally favorable to a man's moral sentiments and intellectual faculties. One of the party re- minded him of his first interview with Dr. Johnson. "I remember it well," said Parr; "I gave him no quarter-the subject of our dis- pute was the liberty of the press. Dr. Johnson was very great; whilst he was arguing, I observed that he stamped; upon this I stamped. Dr. Johnson said, ' Why do you stamp, Dr. Parr?' I re- plied, 'Sir, because you stamped, and I was resolved not to give you the advantage even of a stamp in the argument.'" MISCELLANEOUS. 127 all, wrote down the conclusions to which he was led, in as great detail as possible, and, before proceeding to a post mortem examination, publicly placed his book on the ta- ble that it might be read by every one. He was invariably correct. Attention was soon drawn to him. His accuracy silenced every ob- jection, and all intelligent and can- did men became convinced of the utility of the stethoscope. MISCELLANEOUS. DR. JOHNSON AND OSBORNE THE BOOKSELLER. mended to him as a good scholar, and a ready hand; but he doubted both; for "Tom Such-a-one would have turned out the work much sooner; and that being the case, the probability was, that by this here time the first edition would have moved off." Johnson heard him for some time unmoved; but, at last, losing all patience, he seized a huge folio, which he was at that time consulting, and, aim- ing it at the bookseller's head, suc- ceeded so forcibly as to send him sprawling on the floor. Osborne alarmed the family with his cries; but Johnson, clapping his foot on his breast, would not let him stir till he had exposed him in that situation; and then left him, with this triumphant expression: "Lie there, thou son of dullness, igno- rance, and obscurity!" Tom Osborne, the bookseller, was one of "that mercantile, rug- ged race, to which the delicacy of the poet is sometimes exposed;" as the following anecdote will more fully evince : Johnson being engaged by him to translate a work of some consequence, he thought it a respect which he owed his own talents, as well as the credit of his employer, to be as circumspect in the performance of it as possible; in consequence of which the work went on, according to Osborne's ideas, rather slowly; in consequence, he frequently spoke to Johnson of this circum- stance, and, being a man of coarse mind, sometimes, by his expres- sions, made him feel the situation of dependence. Johnson, however, seemed to take no notice of him, but went on according to the plan which he had prescribed for him- self. Osborne, irritated by what he thought an unnecessary delay, went one day into the room where Johnson was sitting, and abused him in the most illiberal manner: among other things, he told John- son he had been much mistaken in his man; that he was recom- MANUSCRIPT OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. Robinson Crusoe, in manuscript, ran through the whole trade; nor would any one print it, though the writer, Defoe, was in good repute as an author. One bookseller, at last, not remarkable for his dis- cernment, but for his speculative turn, engaged in this publication. This bookseller got above a thou- 128 MISCELLANEOUS. sand guineas by it; and the book- sellers are accumulating money every hour by editions of this work in all shapes. The second volume of this work, however, met with a small sale. The bookseller would have given two hundred pounds that it never had been printed, the first would have been so much more saleable without it. an hour, and you shall see the last 1" We now began to talk. He said, " When Christophe's wife and daughters, all accomplished women, were brought or intro- duced by him to Wilberforce, and others in high life, there was a sort of shrink at admitting them into society." I told him I believed it, because when I resolved to place the African in front of the picture on the same level as the Europe- ans, there was the same delicacy; but I got him and put him in at once. Shame prevented remon- strance. . . . Why was I not so impressed as when I visited the Duke ? Here was a man who in his Christian and peaceable object had shown equal perseverance, equal skill, equal courage, and yet I was not so affected. Clarkson has more weaknesses than the Duke. He is not so high bred. He makes a pride of his debilities. He boasts of his swollen legs and his pills as if they were so many claims to dis- tinction. The Duke did not let you see him in his infirmities. He was deaf, but he would not let you see it if possible. He dined like others, ate like others, and did everything like others ; and what he did not do like others, he did not do before others. Lord Grey and Clarkson have both that in- firmity of asking questions about themselves, as if they had forgot the answers, that they may elicit again the answers for the pleasure of hearing the repetition. The Duke-never. He is too much a man. Himself seems the last thing he remembers, except when others presume on his modesty. He never obtruded Waterloo un- HAYDON PAINTING CLARKSON THE PHILANTHROPIST. Found the dear old man at tea with his niece and wife, looking much better than when in town. Playford is a fine old building: 1593 the last date, but must be much older, they say. It is sur- rounded by a moat with running water. Clarkson has a head like a patriarch, and in his prime must have been a noble figure. He was very happy to see me, but there is a nervous irritability which is pe- culiar. He lives too much with adorers, especially women. As he seemed impatient at my staying beyond a certain time, I went to bed, and wished him good night. I slept well, and the next morning walked in the garden and fields. He breakfasted on milk and bread (alone), and I breakfasted with Mrs. T. Clarkson, up stairs. I promised to sketch them at ten, and at ten I was ready When all was ready, the windows fitted, he said, " Call in the maids." In came six servant girls, and washerwomen (it being washing- day). "I am determined they shall see the first stroke." In they all crowded, timidly wondering. Clarkson said, " There, now, that is the first stroke; come again in MISCELLANEOUS. 129 less it was forced on him, or arose out of the conversation; nor did he shrink if the company seemed to press it. In fact, the Duke was a high bred man. The want of this is never compensated for- never.-Haydon. more than once with increased force. At last, surprised and an- noyed by so unseasonable a peal, the servant appeared. The poet ■was sitting with one foot in the bed and the other on the floor, with an air of mixed impatience and inspiration. " Sir, are you ill ?' inquired the servant. " Ill 1 never better in my life. Leave me the candle, and oblige me with a cup of tea as soon as possible." He then started to his feet, seized the pen, and wrote down the " happy thought," but as he wrote, changed the words " events to come," into " coming events," as they now stand. Look- ing to his watch, he observed that it was two o'clock-the right hour for a poet's dream, and over his cup of tea, he completed the first sketch of " Lochiel's Warning." MISAPPLICATION OF WORDS BY FOREIGNERS. The misapplication of English words by foreigners is often very ludicrous. It is said that Dr. Chal- mers once entertained a distin- guished guest from Switzerland, whom he asked if he would be helped to kippered salmon. The foreign divine asked the meaning of the uncouth word kippered, and •was told that it meant preserved. The poor man, in a public prayer soon after, offered a petition that the distinguished divine might long be "kippered to the Free Church of Scotland." SHAKSPEARE AND THE CLIMATE OF SCOTLAND. " COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS BEFORE." A French writer mentions as a proof of Shakspeare's attention to particulars, his allusion to the cli- mate of Scotland, in the words, " Hail, hail, all hail 1" " Grele, grele, touts grele!" In Beattie's Life of Thomas Campbell, the following anecdote is preserved respecting the well- known couplet in " Lochiel " 'Tis the sunset of life gives me mystical lore, And coming events cast their shadows before." The happy thought first pre- sented itself to his mind during a visit at Minto. He had gone early to bed, and still meditating on the wizard's "warning," fell fast asleep. During the night he sud- denly awoke, repeating- " Events to come cast their shadows before." This was the very thought for which he had been hunting during the whole week I He rang the bell ASININE BISHOPRIC. It was customary in the time of Henry VIII, when speaking of St. Asaph's, to abbreviate it into St. As's. Standish, the bishop, hav- ing irritated Erasmus by an idle sarcasm, the latter retaliated by sometimes calling him JEpiscopus a Sancto Asino. Among other follies of the age of paper, which took place in Eng- THE ROXBURGH CLUB. 130 MISCELLANEOUS, land at the end of the reign of George III, a set of book-fanciers, who had more money than wit, formed themselves into a club, and appropriately designated them- selves the Bibliomaniacs. Dr. Dibdin was their organ, and among the club were several noblemen, who, in other respects, were es- teemed men of sense. Their rage was not to estimate books accord- ing to their intrinsic worth, but for their rarity. Hence, any volume of the vilest trash, which was scarce, merely because it never had any sale, fetched fifty or a hundred pounds; but if it were but one of two or three known copies, no limits could be set to the price. Books altered in the title-page, or in a leaf, or any trivial circum- stance which varied a few copies, were bought by these soi-disant maniacs, at one, two, or three hun- dred pounds, though the copies were not really worth more than threepence per pound. A trumpe- ry edition of Boccaccio, said to be one of two known copies, was thus bought by a noble marquis for £1475, though in two or three years afterwards he resold it for £500. First editions of all authors, and editions by the first clumsy printers, were never sold for less than £50, £100, or £200. To keep each other in counte- nance, these persons formed them- selves into a club, and, after a duke, one of their fraternity, call- ed themselves the Roxburgh, Club. To gratify them, fac simile cop- ies of clumsey editions of trump- ery books were reprinted ; and, in some cases, it became worth the while of more ingenious persons to play off forgeries upon them. This mania after a while abated ; and, in future ages, it will be ranked with the tulip and the pic- ture mania, during which, estates were given for single flowers and pictures. A GOOD SERMON TO A SMALL AUDIENCE. A story is told of Dr. Bgecher, of Cincinnati, that is worth re- cording, as illustrating the truth, that we can never tell what may result from an apparently insig- nificant action. The Doctor once engaged to preach for a country minister, on exchange, and the Sabbath proved to be excessively stormy, cold, and uncomfortable. It was in mid-winter, and the snow was piled in heaps all along the roads so as to make the passage very difficult. Still the minister urged his horse through the drifts till he reached the church, put the animal into a shed and went in. As yet there was no person in the house, and after looking about, the old gentleman, then young, took his seat in the pulpit. Soon the door opened, and a single in- dividual walked up the aisle, look- ed about, and took a seat. The hour came for commencing ser- vice, but no more hearers. Wheth- er to preach to such an audience or not was now the question ; and it was one that Lyman Beecher was not long in deciding. He felt that he had a duty to perform, and he had no right to refuse to do it, because only one man could reap the benefit of it; and accord- ingly he went through all the ser- vices, praying, singing, preaching, MISCELLANEOUS. 131 and the benediction, with only one hearer. And when all was over, he hastened down from the desk to speak with his " congregation," but he had departed. A circum- stance so rare was referred to oc- casionally, but twenty years after it was brought to the Doctor's mind quite strangely. Traveling somewhere in Ohio, the Doctor alighted from the stage, one day, in a pleasant village, when a gen- tleman stepped up and spoke to him, familiarly calling him by name. " I do not remember you," said the Doctor. "I supposed not," said the stranger; "but we spent two hours together in a house alone once, in a storm." " I do not recall it, sir," added the old man; " pray, pray when was it ? " "Do you remember preaching, twenty years ago, in such a place, to a single person ?" " Yes, yes," said the Doctor, grasping his hand, " I do indeed ; and if you are the man, I have been wishing to see you ever since." " I am the man, sir; and that sermon saved my soul, made a minister of me, and yonder is my church. The con- verts of that sermon, sir, are all over Ohio."-Hogg's Instructor. Smith entertained, and Theodore Hook amazed you. SILENCE NOT ALWAYS THE IN- DICATION OF WISDOM. Coleridge once dined in com- pany with a person who listened to him, and said nothing for a long time; but he nodded his head, and Coleridge thought him intelligent. At length, to- wards the end of the dinner, some apple-dumplings were placed on the table, and the listener had no sooner seen them than he burst forth, " Them's the jockeys for me!" Coleridge adds, " I wish Spurzheim could have examined the fellow's head." Mr. Curran distinguished him- self not more as a barrister than as a member of Parliament; and in the latter character, it was his misfortune to provoke the enmity of a man whose thirst for revenge was only satiated by the utter ruin of his adversary. On the dis- cussion of a bill of a penal nature, Mr. Curran inveighed in warm terms against the attorney-gener- al, Mr. Fitzgibbon, for sleeping on the bench, when statutes of the most cruel kind were enacting; and he ironically lamented that the slumber of guilt should so nearly resemble the repose of in- nocence. A message from Mr. Fitzgibbon was the consequence of this sally, and the parties hav- ing met, were left to fire when they chose. " I never," said Mr. Curran, relating the circumstances of the duel, " saw any one whose JUDICIAL ANIMOSITY. CONVERSATION OF LITERARY MEN. The most extraordinary con- versational men whom I have known, were Sheridan, Sydney Smith, Canning, and Theodore Hook ; but they were all dissimi- lar to each other, as if the realm of wit and humor were peopled by different races. Sheridan charm- ed, Canning fascinated, Sydney 132 MISCELLANEOUS. determination seemed more malig- nant than Fitzgibbon's: after I had fired, he took aim at me for at least half a minute ; and on its proving ineffectual, I could not help exclaiming to him, ' It was not your fault, Mr. Attorney ; you ■were deliberate enough.' " The attorney-general declared his hon- or satisfied; and here, at least for the present, the dispute appeared to terminate. Not here, however, terminated Fitzgibbon's animosi- ty. Soon after, he became Lord- Chancellor, and a Peer in Ireland, and, in the former capacity, found an opportunity, by means of his judicial authority, ungenerously, to crush the rising power of his late antagonist. Mr. Curran, who was at this time a leader, and one of the senior practitioners at the chancery bar, soon felt all the force of his rival's vengeance. The chancellor is said to have yielded a reluctant attention to every mo- tion he made; he frequently stop- ped him in the midst of a speech ; questioned his knowledge of law; recommended to him more atten- tion to facts ; in short, he succeed- ed not only in crippling all his professional efforts, but actually to leave him without a client. Mr. Curran, indeed, appeared as usual in the three other courts ; but he had already been stripped of his most profitable practice; and as his expenses nearly kept pace with his gains, he was al- most left a beggar ; for all hopes of the wrealth and honors of the long robe were now de- nied him. The memory of this persecution embittered the last moments of Curran's existence ; and he could never even allude to it without evincing a just and excusable indignation. In a let- ter which he addressed to a friend twenty years after, he says : " I make no compromise with power. I had the merit of provoking and despising the personal malice of every man in Ireland who was the known enemy of the country. Without the w'alls of the court of justice, my character was pursu- ed with the most persevering slan- der ; and within those walls, though I was too strong to be beaten down by any judicial ma- lignity, it was not so with my cli- ents ; and my consequent losses of professional income have never been estimated at less, as you have often heard, than thirty thousand pounds." The incidents attendant upon this disagreement were at times ludicrous in the ex- treme. One day, wrhen it was known that Curran was to make an elaborate argument in chance- ry, Lord Clare (the title of Fitz- gibbon) brought a large New- foundland dog upon the bench with him; and during the pro- gress of the argument, he lent his ear more to the dog than to the barrister. At last the chancellor seemed to lose all regard to de- cency. He turned himself quite aside, in the most material part of the case, and began in full court to fondle the animal. Mr. Curran stopped short. " Go on, go on, Mr. Curran," said Lord Clare. " O," replied Mr. Curran, " I beg a thousand pardons, my lord ; I really took it for granted that your lordship was employed in consultation." 133 NOVELS AND NOVELISTS. During the progress of a polit- ical meeting held in the town of Cambridge, it so happened that the late Dr. Mansel, then public orator of the University of Cam- bridge, but afterwards master of Trinity College and Bishop of Bristol, came to the place of meet- ing just as Musgrave, the well- known political tailor of his day, was in the midst of a most pathet- ic oration, and emphatically re- peating " Liberty, liberty, gentle- LIBERTY A PLANT. men " he paused-" Liberty is a plant " " So is a cab- bage!" exclaimed the caustic Mansel, before Musgrave had time to complete his sentence, with so happy an allusion to the trade of the tailor, that he was silenced amid roars of laughter. BACON. Lord Bacon wrote in his will, " For my name and memory, I leave it to men's charitable speech- es, and to foreign nations and the next ages." NOVELS AND NOVELISTS. me, being a young man, to attend him the next morning at six o'clock. I was punctual, and found Sir Walter already busy writing. He appointed my tasks and again sat down at his own desk. We continued to write during the reg- ular work hours till six o'clock in the evening, without interrup- tion, except to take breakfast and dinner, which were served in the room beside us, so that no time was lost; we rose from our desks when everything was ready, and resumed our labors when the meals were over. I need not tell you, that during these inter- vals Sir Walter conversed with me as if I had been on a level of perfect equality with himself. " I had no notion it was possi- ble for any man to undergo the fatigue of composition for so long a time at once, and Sir Walter acknowledged that he did not usually subject himself to so much scott's habits of composition. " Edinburgh. 16th February, 1833. " To J. G. Lockhart, Esq. " Sir : Having been for a few days employed by Sir Walter Scott, when he was finishing his Life of Bonaparte, to copy papers connected with that work, and to write occasionally to his dictation, it may, perhaps, be in my power to mention some circumstances relative to Sir Walter's habits of composition, which could not fall under the observation of any one except a person in the same situ- ation as myself, and which are, therefore, not unlikely to pass al- together without notice. " When, at Sir Walter's re- quest, I waited upon him to be informed of the business in which he needed my assistance, after stating it, he asked me if I was an early riser, and added that it would be no great hardship for 134 NOVELS AND NOVELISTS. exertion, though it seemed to be only the manual part of the ope- ration that occasioned him any in- convenience. Once or twice he desired me to relieve him, and dictated while I wrote with as much rapidity as I was able. I have performed the same service to several other persons, most of whom walked up and down the apartment while excogitating what was to be committed to writing ; they sometimes stopped, too, and like those who fail in a leap and return upon their course to take the advantage of another race, en- deavored to hit upon something additional by perusing over my shoulder what was already set down-mending a phrase, per- haps, or recasting a sentence, till they should recover their wind. None of these aids were necessa- ry to Sir Walter: his thoughts flowed easily and felicitously, without any difficulty to lay hold of them, or to find appropriate language; which was evident by the absence of all solicitude (mis- eria cogitandi) from his counte- nance. He sat in his chair, from which he arose now and then, took a volume from the book-case, consulted it, and restored it to the shelf, all without intermission in the current of ideas, which con- tinued to be delivered with no less readiness than if his mind had been wholly occupied with the words he was uttering. It soon became apparent to me, however, that he was carrying on t wo distinct trains of thought, one of which was already arranged, and was in the act of being spo- ken, while at the same time he was in the advance considering what was afterwards to be said. This I discovered by his some- times introducing a word which was wholly out of place-enter- tained instead of denied, for ex- ample-but which I presently found to belong to the next sen- tence, perhaps four or five lines further on, which he had been preparing at the very moment that he gave me the words of the one that preceded it. Extem- poraneous orators, of course, and no doubt many writers, think as rapidly as did Sir Walter; but the mind is wholly occupied with what the lips are uttering or the pen is tracing. I do not remember any other instance in which it could be said that two threads were kept hold of at once-connected with each other, indeed, but grasped at different points. I was, as I have said, two or three days be- side Sir Walter, and had repeated opportunities of observing the same thing. I am, Sir, respect- fully, your obliged humble ser- vant, Robert Hogg." SIR WALTER SCOTT'S EARLY LIFE. Walter Scott was twenty years of age when, in 1791, he was ad- mitted to the Speculative Society of Edinburgh. He was chosen librarian, and shortly afterwards, the secretary and treasurer. He kept the accounts and records very faithfully, and wrote essays, and joined in debates on the com- mon-place questions usually pro- posed in such clubs. The follow- ing, from the Life of Scott by Lockhart, relates to this part of his life: 135 " Lord Jeffrey remembers be- ing struck the first night he spent at the Speculative, with the singu- lar appearance of the secretary, who sat gravely at the bottom of the table in a huge woolen night- cap ; and, when the president took the chair, pleaded a bad tooth- ache as his apology for coming in- to that worshipful assembly in such a ' portentous machine.' He read, that night, an essay on bal- lads, which so much interested the new member, that he request- ed to be introduced to him. Mr. Jeffrey called on him next even- ing, and found him ' in a small den on the sunk floor of his fath- er's house, in George's Square, surrounded with ' dingy books,' from which they adjourned to a tavern and supped together. Such was the commencement of an ac- quaintance, which, by degrees, ripened into friendship, between the two most distinguished men of letters whom Edinburgh pro- duced in their time. I may add here the description of that early den, with which I am favored by a lady of Scott's family. ' Wal- ter had soon begun to collect out- of-the-way things of all sorts. He had more books than shelves ; a small, painted cabinet, with Scotch and Roman coins in it, etc. A claymore and Lochaber axe, given him by old Ivernahyle, mounted guard on a little print of Prince Charlie ; and ' Broughton's saucer' was hooked up against the wall below it.' Such was the germ of the magnificent library and museum of Abbotsford ; and such were the ' new realms ' in which he, on taking possession, NOVELS AND NOVELISTS. had arranged his little parapher- nalia about him, ' with all the feelings of novelty and liberty.' Since those days the habits of life in Edinburgh, as elsewhere, have undergone many changes; and the ' convenient parlor,' in which Scott first showed Jeffrey his col- lections of minstrelsy, is now, in all probability, thought hardly good enough for a menial's sleep- ing room." HABITS OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. There was no feature more conspicuous in the life of the great enchanter than the econ- omical division of his time, and the entire occupancy of it to the best account. Mr. Lockhart fur- nishes this description, by James Skene, of Rubislow, who was very intimate with Scott: He rose by five o'clock, lit his own fire, when the season re- quired one, and shaved and dress- ed with great deliberation ; for he was a very martinet as to all but the mere coxcomberies of the toil- et, not abhorring effeminate dan- dyism itself so cordially as the slightest approach to personal slovenliness, or even those " bed- gown and slipper tricks," as he called them, in which literary men are so apt to indulge. Ar- rayed in his shooting-jacket, or whatever dress he meant to use till dinner time, he was seated at his desk by six o'clock, all his papers arranged before him in the most accurate order, and his books of reference marshaled around him on the floor, while at least one favorite dog lay watch- ing his eye just beyond the line 136 NOVELS AND NOVELISTS. of circumvallation. Thus, by the time the family assembled for breakfast, between nine and ten, he had done enough, in his own language, " to break the neck of the day's work." After breakfast a couple of hours more were given to his solitary tasks, and by noon he was, as he used to say, " his own man." When the weather was bad, he would labor inces- santly all the morning; but the general rule was to be out and on horseback by one o'clock at the latest; while, if any more distant excursion had been proposed over night, he was ready to start on it by ten ; his occasional rainy days of unintermitted study forming, as he said, a fund in his favor, out of which he was entitled to draw for accommodation, whenever the sun shone with special brightness. It was another rule, that every letter he received should be an- swered that same day. Nothing else could have enabled him to keep abreast with the flood of communication that in the sequel put his good nature to the sever- est test; but already the demands on him in this way also were nu- merous ; and he included atten- tion to them among the necessary business, which must be dispatch- ed before he had a right to close his writing-box. In turning over his enormous mass of correspond- ence, I have almost invariably found some indication that, when a letter had remained more than a day or two unanswered, it had been so because he found occa- sion for inquiry or deliberate con- sideration. I ought not to omit that in those days Scott was far too zeal- ous a dragoon not to take a prin- cipal share in the stable duty. Before beginning his desk-work in the morning, he uniformly vis- ited his favorite steed, and neither Captain nor the Lieutenant's suc- cessor, Brown Adam, so called after one of the heroes of the Minstrelsy, liked to be fed except by him. The latter charger was indeed altogether intractable in other hands, though in his the most submissive of faithful allies. The moment he was bridled and saddled, it was the custom to open the stable door, as a signal that his master expected him, when he immediately trotted to the side of the leaping-on-stone, of which Scotty from his lameness, found it convenient to make use, and stood there, silent and motionless as a rock, until he was fairly in his seat, after which he displayed his joy by neighing triumphantly through a brilliant succession of curvettings. Brown Adam never suffered himself to be backed but by his master. He broke, I be- lieve, one groom's arm and anoth- er's leg, in the rash attempt to tamper with his dignity. Camp was at this time the con- stant parlor dog. He was very handsome, very intelligent, and naturally very fierce, but gentle as a lamb among the children. As for the more locomotive Doug- las and Percy, he kept one win- dow of his study open, whatever might be the state of the weather, that they might leap out and in as the fancy moved them. He always talked to Camp as if he understood what was said, and NOVELS AND NOVELISTS. 137 the animal certainly did under- stand not a little of it; in partic- ular, it seemed as if he perfectly comprehended, on all occasions, that his master considered him as a sensible and steady friend, and the greyhounds as volatile young creatures, whose freaks must be borne with. himself that he had done his ut- most. The temptations of society, the more insinuating claims of an overworked system for rest, were alike resolutely rejected. The world must ever hear with won- der, that between the third day after his bankruptcy and the fif- teenth day thereafter, he had writ- ten a volume of Woodstock, al- though several of these days had been spent in comparative vacan- cy, to allow the imagination time for brooding. He believed, that, for a bet, he could have written this volume in ten days. Just a fortnight after his final breach with fortune, he says in his jour- nal, " I have now no pecuniary provisions to embarrass me, and I think, now the shock of the dis- covery is past and over, I am much better off on the whole. . . . I shall be free of a hundred petty public duties imposed on me as a man of consideration, of the ex- pense of a great hospitality, and, what is better, of the waste of time connected with it. I have known in my day all kinds of society, and can pretty well esti- mate how much or how little one loses by retiring from all but that which is very intimate. ... If I could see those about me as indif- ferent to the loss of rank as I am, I should be completely happy. As it is, time must salve that sore, and to time I trust it." Sir Walter Scott was engaged, at the time of his misfortunes, in writing the Life of Bonaparte, taking up his new novel of food- stock at intervals by way of relief. These tasks he continued, with steady perseverance, in the midst of all his distresses. Even on the day which brought him as- surance of the grand catastrophe, he resumed in the afternoon the task which had engaged him in the morning. There was more triumph over circumstances here than might be supposed, for he had lately begun to feel the first touches of the infirmities of age- age to which ease, not hard work, is naturally appropriate. His sleep was now less sound than it had been ; his eyesight was fail- ing ; and, above all, he felt that backwardness of the intellectual power which is inseparable from years. The will, however, was green as ever, and under the prompting of an honorable spirit, it did its work nobly. Doggedly, doggedly did the energetic old man rouse himself from his mel- ancholy couch, and set to his task at an hour when gaiety had little more than sought his. Firmly did he keep to his desk during long hours, till he could satisfy scott's reverses. SIR WALTER SCOTT AND THE AMERICAN AUTHORESS. "One morning," said Scott, "I opened a huge lump of a despatch, without looking to know how it was addressed, never doubting 138 NOVELS AND NOVELISTS. that it had traveled under some omnipotent frank,like the first lord of admiralty's, when, lo and be- hold, the contents proved to be a manuscript play, by a young lady of New York, who kindly request- ed me to read and correct it, equip it with prologue and epi- logue, procure for it a favorable reception from the manager of Drury Lane, and make Murray or Constable bleed handsomely for the copyright; and, inspecting the cover, I found that I had been charged five pounds odd for the postage. This was bad enough; but there was no help, so I groan- ed and submitted. A fortnight or so after, another packet, of not less formidable bulk, arrived, and I was absent enough to break its seal too, without examination. Conceive my horror, when out jumped the same identical trage- dy of the " Cherokee Lovers," with a second epistle from the author- ess, stating that, as the winds had been boisterous, she feared the vessel entrusted with her former communication might have been foundered, and therefore judged it prudent to forward a duplicate." of letters from all sorts of people, in all sorts of latitudes and cli- mates, to which this unlucky par- agraph has given rise, I should get into an arithmetical difficulty from which I could not easily ex- tricate myself. Suffice it to say, that I believe the applications for loans, gifts, and offices of profit, that I have been requested to forward to the originals of the Brothers Cheeryble (with whom I never interchanged any com- munication in my would have exhausted the combined pat- ronage of all the lord-chancellors since the accession of the house of Brunswick, and would have broken the rest of the Bank of England." DICKENS AND SQUEERS. Prefixed to Dickens's second edition of Nicholas Nickleby, we find the following allusion to York- shire schools: " I cannot call to mind now how I came to hear about York- shire schools, when I was not a very robust child, sitting in by- places near Rochester Castle, with a head full of Partridge, Strap, Tom Pipes, and Sancho Panza; but I know that my first impres- sions of them were picked up at that time, and that they were somehow or other connected with a suppurated abscess that some boy had come home with, in con- sequence of his Yorkshire guide, philosopher and friend having ripped it open with an inky pen- knife. The impression made upon me, however made, never left me. I was always curious about them- fell, long afterwards, and at sun- Ilaving stated in the original preface to Nicholas Nickleby, that the Brothers Cheeryble were por- traits from the life, and that they yet exercised their unbounded benev- olence in the town of which they are the pride and honor, Dickens thus laments over the applications to which his statement has given rise: " If I were to attempt to sum up the hundreds upon hundreds CHARLES DICKENS. NOVELS AND NOVELISTS. 139 dry times, into the way of hearing more about them-at last, having an audience, resolved to write about them. With that intent I went down into Yorkshire before I began this book, in very severe winter time, which is pretty faith- fully described herein. As I wanted to see a schoolmaster or two, and was forewarned that those gentlemen might, in their modesty, be shy of receiving a visit from the author of the Pick- wick Papers, I consulted with a professional friend here, who had a Yorkshire connection, and with whom I concerted a pious fraud. He gave me some letters of intro- duction, in the name, I think, of my traveling companion; they bore reference to a supposititious little boy who had been left with a widowed mother who didn't know what to do with him; the poor lady had thought, as a means of thawing the tardy compassion of her relations in his behalf, of sending him to a Yorkshire school. 1 was the poor lady's friend, trav- eling that way; and if the recipient of the letter could inform me of a school in his neighborhood, the writer would be very much oblig- ed. I went to several places in that part of the country where I understood these schools to be most plentifully sprinkled, and had no occasion to deliver a letter un- til I came to a certain town which shall be nameless. The person to whom it was addressed was not at home; but he came down at night, through the snow, to the inn where I was staying. It was after dinner, and he needed little persuasion to sit down by the fire in a warm corner, and take his share of the wine that was on the table. I am afraid he is dead now. I recollect he was a jovial, ruddy, broad-faced man ; that we got acquainted directly; and that we talked on all kinds of subjects, except the school, which he show- ed a great anxiety to avoid. 'Was there any large school near?' I asked him, in reference to the letter. ' O, yes,' he said, ' there was a pratty big 'un.' ' Was it a good one?' I asked. ' Ey,' he said, ' it was as good as anoother ; that was a' a matther of opinion and fell to looking at the lire, staring round the room, and whis- tling a little. On my reverting to some other topic that we had been discussing, he recovered im- mediately ; but, though I tried him again and again, I never ap- proached the question of the school, even if he were in the middle of a laugh, without ob- serving that his countenance fell, and that he became uncomfort- able. At last, when we had pass- ed a couple of hours or so, very agreeably, he suddenly took up his hat, and, leaning over the table, and looking me full in the face, said, in a low voice, ' Weel, mis- ther, we've been vary pleasant toogather,and ar'll spak'my moind tiv'ee. Dinnot let the weedur send her lattle boy to yan o' our schoolmeasthers, while there's a harse to hold in a' Lunnun, or a gootther to lie asleep in. Ar wouldn't mak' ill words amang my neeburs, and ar spak' tiv'ee quiet loike. But I'm doom'd if ar can gang to bed and not tellee, for weedur's sak', to keep the lat- 140 NOVELS AND NOVELISTS. tie boy from a' sike scoundrels while there's a harse to hold in a' Lunnun, or a gootther to lie asleep in.' Repeating these words with great heartiness, and with a sol- emnity on his jolly face that made it look twice as large as before, he shook hands and went away." reading a book, and from time to time breaking off", and beating his forehead with extraordinary to- kens of pleasure and delight; upon which the king said to those about him, " That scholar is either mad, or he is reading Don Quixote." This anecdote is worth a vol- ume of panegyric. MAGNANIMITY OF CERVANTES. Michael Cervantes Saavedra, the author of Don Quixote, gave a proof that his generosity was equal to his genius. He was, in the early part of his life, for some time a slave in Algiers, and there he con- certed a plan to free himself and thirteen fellow-sufferers. One of them traitorously betrayed the de- sign, and they were all conveyed to the Dey of Algiers; and he promised them their lives on con- dition they discovered the contri- ver of the plot. " I was that per- son," exclaimed the intrepid Cer- vantes ; " save my companions, and let me perish." The Dey, struck with his noble confession, spared his life, allowed him to be ransomed, and permitted him to depart home. This writer of an incomparable romance, replete with character, incident, pleasantry, and humor, without any alloy of vulgarity, ob- scenity, or irreligion, and which is held in admiration throughout the civilized world, starved in the midst of a high reputation, and died in penury. As Philip III, King of Spain, was standing in a balcony of his palace at Madrid, and viewing the prospects of the surrounding coun- try, he observed a student on the banks of the river Manzanares, sterne's hard-iieartedness. " What is called sentimental writing," says Horace Walpole, " though it be understood to ap- peal solely to the heart, may be the product of a bad one. One would imagine that Sterne had been a man of a very tender heart; yet I know, from indubitable au- thority, that his mother, who kept a school, having run in debt on account of an extravagant daugh- ter, would have rotted in jail if the parents of the. scholars had not raised a subscription for her. Her son had too much sentiment to have any feeling. A dead ass was more important to him than a liv- ing mother." DANIEL DEFOE. The name of the interesting writer of Robinson Crusoe was not originally Defoe, but Foe-the prefix being added by himself. He was born in London in 1663. His early education and habits were such as to promise almost any other results than works of fiction. And yet we find him, at twenty-one years of age, the author of a treatise against the Turks. He joined the insurrec- tion of the Duke of Monmouth,but had the good fortune to escape to London unscathed, where he en- NOVELS AND NOVELISTS. 141 gaged, first as a horse-factor, and then as a brick-maker. Failing in business, however, he became in- solvent, and compounded with his creditors as best he could. It is to his credit, however, that when his circumstances were afterwards improved, he paid the full amount of all his obligations. In 1697, he again became an author; and more than twenty years later-when about fifty years of age-his ro- mance of Robinson Crusoe ap- peared. His subsequent produc- tions were very numerous; and a few of them were works of merit. lished it without the knowledge of hei- father, who, having occasion to visit the metropolis, soon after it had issued from the press, pur- chased it as the work then most popular, and most likely to prove an acceptable treat to his family. When Dr. Burney had con- cluded his business in town, he went to Chessington, the seat of Mr. Crisp, where his family were on a visit. He had scarcely dis- mounted and entered the parlor, when the customary question of "What news?" was rapidly ad- dressed to him by the several personages of the little party. " Nothing," said the worthy doctor, " but a great deal of noise about a novel which I have brought you." When the book was produced, and the title read, the surprised and conscious Miss Burney turned away her face to conceal the blushes and delighted confusion which otherwise would have be- trayed her secret; but the bustle which usually attends the arrival of a friend in the country, where the monotonous but peaceful tenor of life is agreeably disturbed by such a change, prevented the cu- rious and happy group from ob- serving the agitation of their sis- ter. After dinner, Mr. Crisp pro- posed that the book should be read. This was done with all due rapidity; when the gratifying comments made during its pro- gress, and the acclamations which attended its conclusion, ratified the approbation of the public. The amiable author, whose anxiety and pleasure could with difficulty be The regular novels of Goethe are of a very questionable sort. The vivacity of his imagination and fineness of feeling, supply good individual pictures and acute remarks, but they cannot be praised either for incident or char- acter. They are often stained, too, with the degradation to which he unfortunately reduces love, where liking and vice follow fast upon each other. The Apprenticeship of William Meister, for instance, is a very readable book, in so far as it contains a great deal of acute and eloquent criticism; but who would purchase the criticism, even of Goethe, at the expense of the licentiousness of incident and pru- riency of description with which the book teems?-.Russell's Ger- many. goethe's novels. Miss Burney, afterwards Ma- dame D'Arblay, wrote her cele- brated novel of Evelina when only seventeen years of age, and pub- MISS BURNEY. 142 NOVELS AND NOVELISTS. concealed, was at length overcome by the delicious feelings of her heart; she burst into tears, and throwing herself on her father's neck, avowed herself the author of Evelina. The joy and surprise of her sisters, and still more of her father, cannot easily be expressed. Dr. Burney, conscious as he was of the talents of his daughter, never thought that such maturity of ob- servation and judgment, such fer- tility of imagination and chaste- ness of style, could have been dis- played by a girl of seventeen-by one who appeared a mere infant in artlessness and inexperience, and whose deep seclusion from the world had excluded her from all visual knowledge of its ways. Soon after 1774, she settled at Rome, and was admitted a mem- ber of the Academy of the Arcadi, under the name of Corilla Olym- pica, and for some time continued to charm the inhabitants of Rome by her talents in improvisation. At length, when Pius VI became Pope, he determined that she should be solemnly crowned-an honor which had been granted to Petrarch only. Twelve members of the Arca- dian Academy were selected out of thirty, publicly to examine the new edition of the " Tenth Muse," which has so often been dedicated to ladies of poetical and literary talents. Three several days were allotted for this public exhibition of poetical powers, on the follow- ing subjects:-sacred history, re- vealed religion, moral philosophy, natural history, metaphysics, epic poetry, legislation, eloquence, mythology, fine arts, and pastoral poetry. In the list of examiners ap- peared a prince, an archbishop, three monseigneurs, the Pope's physician, abati, avocati, all of high rank in literature and criti- cism. These severally gave her subjects, which, besides a readi- ness at versification in all the measures of Italian poetry, re- quired science, reading, and knowledge of every kind. In these severe trials she ac- quitted herself to the satisfaction and astonishment of all the per- sonages, clergy, literati, and for- eigners then resident at Rome. Among the latter was the brother of George III, the Duke of Glou- cester. Nearly fifty sonnets, by different poets, with odes, canzoni, terze rime, attave, canzonette, etc., produced on the subject of the event, are inserted at the end of a beautiful volume containing the description of the order and cere- monials of this splendid, honora- ble, and enthusiastic homage paid to poetry, classical taste, talents, literature, and the fine arts. THE AUTHORSHIP OF WAVERLEY. Mrs. Murray Keith, a venera- ble Scotch lady, from whom Sir Walter Scott derived many of the traditionary stories and anecdotes wrought up in his novels, taxed him one day with the authorship, which he, as usual, stoutly denied. "What I' exclaimed the old lady, " d'ye think I dinna ken my ain groats among other folks' kail ?" THE " VICAR OF WAKEFIELD." This beautiful little work re- ORATORY AND ELOCUTION. 143 mained unnoticed, and was at- tacked by the reviews, until Lord Holland, who had been ill, sent to his bookseller for some amusing book. This was supplied, and he was so pleased that he spoke of it in the highest terms to a large company who dined with him a few days after. The consequence was that the whole impression was sold off in a few days. ORATORY AND ELOCUTION. PULPIT, PARLIAMENTARY AND JUDICIAL. BISHOP ATTERBURY. only sense enough to act the fool. " Where," exclaimed he, with great emphasis, " where shall we find a more foolish knave or a more knavish fool than he ? " " Hear ! hear ! " was shouted by the troublesome member. Sheri- dan turned round, and, thanking him for the prompt reply, sat down amid a general roar of laughter. Dr. Doddridge, in his unpub- lished lectures on preaching, gives a short view of the characters and qualifications of the most celebrat- ed divines of the last and present age, both conformists and non- conformists. Under the former head he thus describes Atterbury as a preacher: "Atterbury: the glory of English orators! His language in its strictest purity and beauty: nothing dark, noth- ing redundant, nothing defect- ive, nothing misplaced. Trivial thoughts avoided; uncommon ones introduced; set in a clear and strong light in a few words; a few admirable similies; graceful allusions to Scripture beyond any other writer. On the whole, he is a model for courtly preachers." APPLAUSE IN THE GALLERY OF THE HOUSE OF COMMONS. The late William Gardiner, of Leicester, related the following story of himself, in his work call- ed Music and Friends: " I was presented with an or- der to the gallery of the House of Commons. That night there was a grand debate upon Mr. Grey's motion touching the seizure of Oczakow by the Empress of Rus- sia, in which I heard all the prin- cipal speakers. Mr. Grey's style was that of sober argument; Sher- idan's, playful; Burke's, imagina- tive and lofty; Pitt's (what little he said), supercilious and scorn- ful; Fox's, powerful and eloquent. He was the last speaker, and I was so excited by his oratory, SHERIDAN. Sheridan was one day much annoyed by a fellow-member of the House of Commons, who kept crying out every few minutes, "Hear! hear!" During the debate he took occasion to de- scribe a political cotemporary who wished to play the rogue, but had 144 ORATORY AND ELOCUTION. that, without reflecting where I was, I vehemently called out 'Bravo!' I was delighted to that degree that I made the house ring again. The speaker, Ad- dington, immediately got up and said, that more unwarrantable conduct he had never witnessed than that of the person who had in- terrupted the proceedings. Stran- gers wrere upon sufferance in that house, and could not be permit- ted to applaud or disapprove any- thing that was passing. It was a high breach of privilege, and a sergeant-at-arms was ordered to bring the offender to the bar. A tall, handsome man, sitting alone in the side gallery, approach- ed me, and said, with a counte- nance almost breaking into a laugh, ' How could you be so in- discreet, young man?' 'Sir,' I replied, ' I hope you will excuse me; I am but a countryman.' By this time the officer was mak- ing his way to take me up, when this person, waving his hand, caused him to desist. It was no other than the Prince of Wales, whom the importance of the de- bate had brought into the house, and who, most probably, saved me from Newgate. The gallery, however, in consequence of my indiscretion, was ordered to be cleared; and as I passed through the crowd, I had the execration of the whole company. Many years afterwards, when on a jour- ney to the south of England, I arrived late in the evening at the Single Star, in Exeter, and was shown into the travelers' room, where a merry party wrere discuss- ing the merits of the different speakers in the House of Com- mons. A gentleman told us that he was in the gallery one night, enjoying the debate, when he had the mortification to be turned out, in consequence of the folly of some fellow calling out ' Bravo ! ' I kept my countenance, and join- ed in the laugh, and did not reveal to the gentleman that I was the very person who had committed this outrage, till I met him the next morning at breakfast." GRATTAN CONCENTRATED CONTEMPT. Thomas Campbell repeated the following anecdote of Grattan, on the authority of Samuel Rogers: Grattan was once violently at- tacked in the Irish House of Commons, by an inveterate Orangeman, who made a misera- ble speech. In reply, Grattan said : " I shall make no other re- mark on the personalities of the honorable gentleman who spoke last, than-As he rose without a friend, so he has sat down with- out an enemy." Was ever con- tempt (adds Campbell) so con- centrated in expression 1 BURKE PUT TO FLIGHT. Mr. Burke, on one occasion, had just risen in the House of Commons, with some papers in his hand, on the subject of which he intended to make a motion, when a rough-hewn member, who had no ear for the charms of elo- quence, rudely started up, and said, " Mr. Speaker, I hope the honorable gentleman does not mean to read that large bundle of papers, and to bore us with a ORATORY AND ELOCUTION. 145 long speech into the bargain." Mr. B. was so swollen with rage, as to be incapable of utterance, and absolutely ran out of the house. On this occasion, George Selwyn remarked, that it was the only time he ever saw the fable realized-a lion put to flight by the braying of an ass. BROUGHAM AND LYNDHURST. Brougham, speaking of the sal- ary attached to a rumored ap- pointment to a new judgeship, said it was all moonshine. Lynd- hurst, in his dry and waggish way, remarked, " May be so, my Lord Harry; but I have a strong notion that, moonshine though it be, you would like to see the first quarter of it." FARADAY A9 A LECTURER. Von Baumer acutely observes : " Mr. Faraday is not only a man of profound chemical and physical science (which all Europe knows), but a very respectable lecturer. He speaks with ease and freedom, but not with a gossiping, unequal tone, alternately inaudible and bawling, as some very learned professors do; he delivers him- self with clearness, precision, and ability. Moreover, he speaks his language in a manner which con- firmed me in a secret suspicion I had, that a great number of Eng- lishmen speak it very badly. Why is it that French in the mouth of Mdlle. Mars, German in that of Tieck, and English in that of Faraday, seems a totally different language ? Because they articulate what other people swal- low or chew. It is a shame that the power and harmony of simple speech (I am not talking of elo- quence, but of vowels and conso- nants), that the tones and inflex- ions which God has given to the human voice, should be so neg- lected and abused. And those who think they do them full jus- tice-preachers-generally give us only the long straw of preten- ded connoisseurs, instead of the chopped straw of the dilettanti." LORD BROUGHAM. It is related of Lord Brougham, that on one occasion, after having practiced all day as a barrister, lie went to the House of Com- mons, where he was engaged in active debate through the night, till three o'clock in the morning ; he then returned home; wrote an article for the Edinburgh Re- view ; spent the next day in court, practicing law, and the succeed- ing night in the House of Com- mons ; returned to his lodgings at three o'clock in the morning, and " retired simply because he had nothing else to do." It is known that Brougham was laboriously study- ing optics in the brief intervals of the Queen's trial, one of the most absorbing judicial proceedings of modern times, in which he took a leading part as counsel. When Lord Erskine made his debut at the bar. his agitation al- most overcame him, and he was just going to sit down. " At that moment," said he, " I thought I felt my little children tugging at my gown, and the idea roused me to an exertion of which I did not think myself capable." LORD ERSKINE. 146 ORATORY AND ELOCUTION. JEFFREY AND JOHN KEMBLE. trial, he was seen handing ladies into their coaches, with all the gaiety and prattle of an idle gal- lant." In February, 1818, he did what he never did before or since. He stuck a speech. John Kemble had taken his leave of our stage, and before quitting Edinburgh, about sixty or seventy of his ad- mirers gave him a dinner and a snuff-box. Jeffrey was put into the chair, and had to make the address previous to the presenta- tion. He began very promising- ly, but got confused, and amazed both himself and everybody else, by actually sitting down and leav- ing the speech unfinished; and, until reminded of that part of his duty, not even thrusting the box into the hand of the intended re- ceiver. He afterwards told me the reason of this. He had not pre- meditated the scene, and thought he had nothing to do, except, in the name of the company, to give the box. But as soon as he rose to do this, Kemble, who was be- side him, rose also, and with the most formidable dignity. This forced Jeffrey to look up to his man ; when he found himself an- nihilated by the tall, tragic god ; who sank hint to the earth at ev- ery compliment, by obeisances of overwhelming grace and stateli- ness. If the chairman had antici- pated his position, or recovered from his first confusion, his mind and words could easily have sub- dued even Kemble.-Life of Lord Jeffrey. MELODRAMATIC TRICK. Burke's was a complete failure, when he flung the dagger on the floor of the House of Commons, and produced nothing but a smoth- ered laugh and a joke from Sheri- dan : " The gentleman has brought us the knife, but where is the fork?" When Dr. Chalmers first visit- ed London, the hold that he took on the minds of men was unpre- cedented. It was a time of strong political feeling; but even that was unheeded, and all parties thronged to hear the Scottish preacher. The very best judges were not prepared for the display that they heard. Canning and Wilberforce went together, and got into a pew near the door. The elder in attendance stood alone by the pew. Chalmers be- gan in his usual unpromising way, by stating a few nearly self-evi- dent propositions, neither in the choicest language, nor in the most impressive voice. " If this be all," said Canning to his companion, " it will never do." Chalmers went on-the shuffling of the conversa- tion gradually subsided. He got into the mass of his subject; his weakness became strength, his hesitation was turned into energy, and, bringing the whole volume of his mind to bear upon it, he poured forth a torrent of the most close and conclusive argument, brilliant DR. CHALMERS IN LONDON. CHARLES JAMES FOX. " What a man," says Walpole, " Fox is! After his long and exhausting speech on Hastings's ORATORY AND ELOCUTION. 147 with all the exuberance of an im- agination which ranged over all nature for illustrations, and yet managed and applied each of them with the same unerring dexterity, as if that single one had been the study of a whole life. " The tar- tan beats us," said Mr. Canning; " we have no preaching like that in England." " Canning," says Sir James Mackintosh, " told me that he was entirely converted to admiration of Chalmers." Wil- berforce noticed in his diary, that Canning was affected to tears." in the church speak of things real, which our congregations receive only as if they were imaginary ?" " Why, really, my Lord," answer- ed Betterton, " I don't know, un- less we actors speak of things im- aginary as if they were real, while you in the pulpit speak of things real as if they were imaginary." CANNING AND GRATTAN. Canning said of Grattan's elo- quence, that, for the last two years, his public exhibitions were a com- plete failure, and that you saw all the mechanism of his oratory without its life. It was like lift- ing the flap of a barrel organ, and seeing the wheels ; you saw the skeleton of his sentences without the flesh on them ; and were in- duced to think that what you had considered flashes were merely primings kept ready for the occa- sion.-Moore. PITT, FOX, AND SHERIDAN. Pitt and Fox were listened to with profound respect, and in si- lence broken only by occasional cheers ; but from the moment of Sheridan's rising, there was an expectation of pleasure, which, to his last days, was seldom disap- pointed. A low murmur of eager- ness ran around the house ; every word was watched for, and his pleasantry set the whole assem- blage in a roar. Sheridan was aware of this, and has been heard to say that if a jester would never be an orator, yet no speaker could expect to be popular in a full house without a jest; and that he always made the experiment, good or bad ; as a laugh gave him the country gentlemen to a man. READING. The late Isaac Hawkins Brown declared, that he never felt the charms of Milton until he heard his exordium read by Sheridan. Virgil pronounced his own verses with such an enticing sweet- ness and enchanting grace, that Julius Montanus, a poet who had often heard him, used to say that he could steal Virgil's verses, if he could steal his voice, expres- sion, and gesture; for the same verses, that sounded so rapturous- ly when he read them, were not always excellent in the mouth of another. PREACHERS AND ACTORS. " Pray, Mr. Betterton," asked the good Archbishop Sancroft, of the celebrated actor, " can you inform me what is the reason you actors on the stage, speaking of things imaginary, affect your au- dience as if they were real, while we DOING JUSTICE TO THE CON- SONANTS. Mr. Jones, in his life of Bishop 148 ORATORY AND ELOCUTION. Home, speaking' of Dr. Hinch- cliffe, Bishop of Peterborough, says, that in the pulpit he spoke with the accent of a man of sense, such as he really was in a supe- rior degree; but it was remark- able, and, to those who did not know the cause, mysterious, that there was not a corner of the church in which he could not be heard distinctly. The reason which Mr. Jones assigned was, that he made it an invariable rule to do justice to every consonant, blowing that the vowels would speak for themselves. And thus he became the surest and clearest of speakers; his elocution was perfect, and never disappointed his audience. ed, he forcibly ravished the audi- ence ; not by his matter, certainly, but by his manner of delivering it. A most genteel figure, a no- ble air, a harmonious voice, an elegance of style, and a strength of emphasis, conspired to make him the most affecting, pursua- sive, and applauded speaker I ever heard. I was captivated like others; but when I came home and coolly considered what he had said, stripped of all those ornaments in which he had dressed it, I often found the mat- ter flimsy, the arguments ■weak, and I was convinced of the power of those adventitious concurring circumstances, which it is igno- rance of mankind to call trifling.' THE PULPIT. WHITEFIELD. A celebrated divine, who was remarkable in the first period of his ministry for a boisterous mode of preaching, suddenly changed his whole manner in the pulpit, and adopted a mild and dispas- sionate mode of delivery. One of his brethren, observing it, in- quired of him what had induced him to make the change. He answered, " When I was young I thought that it was the thunder that killed the people ; but when I grew wiser, I discovered that it was the lightning ; so I determin- mined, in future, to thunder less, and lighten more." Garrick said he would give a hundred guineas if he could say " Oh!" as Whitefield did. The agitation produced by Burke's speech at the trial of Warren Hastings was such that the whole audience appeared to have felt one convulsive emotion; and when it was over, it was some time before Mr. Fox could obtain a hearing. Amidst the assem- blage of concurring praises, which this speech excited, none was more remarkable than the tribute of Mr. Hastings himself. " For half an hour," said that gentle- man, " I looked up at the orator in a reverie of wonder; and during that space I actually felt myself the most culpable man on earth." Had the sentiment concluded here, our readers would not believe EDMUND BURKE. EFFECT OF MANNER. " The Duke of Argyle," says Lord Chesterfield, " though the weakest reasoner, was the most pleasing speaker I ever heard in my life. He charmed, he warm- ORATORY AND ELOCUTION. 149 that it was in the language or manner of Mr. Hastings. " But," continued he, " I recurred to my own bosom, and there found a consciousness which consoled me under all I heard, and all I suf- fered." A friend of Hastings' thus satirized Burke on the occa- sion : " Oft have I wondered that on Irish ground No venomous reptile ever yet was found ; The secret stands revealed in nature's work, She saved her venom to create a Burke ! " not forbear to ask the waiter who that gentleman was ? The man replied, " Pshaw! dont you know him ? Why, that's Sheridan ; he's going now to the House of Commons." It will be remem- bered that in the course of this debate, Mr. Sheridan made one of the finest speeches ever deliv- ered by him, alike remarkable for keenness of argument and bril- liancy of wit, and this under the influence of a potion that would wholly have deprived most men of their faculties. The following anecdote of Sher- idan was related by one of the oldest surviving friends and fol- lowers of Fox. This gentleman and Sheridan had dined together at Bellamy's. Sheridan, having taken his allowance, said as usual, " Now I shall go down and see what's doing in the house which, in reality meant, and was always so interpreted by whoever dined in his company, " I have drank enough ; my share of the business is done; now do yours; call for the bill and pay it." The bill having been settled by Sheridan's friend, the latter hearing that Sher- idan was "up," felt curious to know what he could possibly be at, knowing the state in which he had just departed. Accordingly, he entered the house, and, to his no small astonishment, found Sher- ridan in a fit of most fervent or- atory, thundering forth the follow- ing well known passage : " Give them a corrupt House of Lords ; give them a venal House of Com- mons ; give them a tyrannical prince; give them a truckling In the year 1805, on the day when the very animated debate, took place upon the celebrated Tenth Report of the Commission- ers of Naval Inquiry, the atten- tion of a gentleman, who happen- ed to enter a coffee-house near the House of Commons, wras in- stantly fixed by another gentle- man, whom he observed at one of the tables, with tea, and pen, ink, and paper before him. For some time the latter sat, alternate- ly drinking tea and taking down memoranda, and then called to the waiter to give him some bran- dy ; when, to the observer's great surprise, a half pint tumbler-full was brought. The gentleman placed it by him, continuing a while, alternately *to write and drink tea; when, at length, col- lecting his papers together, he put them in his pocket, and swallow- ing the half pint of brandy as if it had been water, went out of the coffee-house. The stranger was so much struck by what he had observed, particularly at the facil- ity with which such a quantity of spirits was taken, that he could sheridan's potions. 150 PHILOLOGY AND LINGUISTS. court; and let me have an unfet- tered press, and I will defy them to encroach a hair's-breadth upon the liberties of England I " PHILOLOGY AND LINGUISTS. SIR WILLIAM JONES. the Thibetian, the Pali, the Pha- luvi, and the Deri; to which are to be added, among the languages which he describes himself to have studied least perfectly, the Chi- nese, Russian, Runic, Syriac, Ethiopic, Coptic, Dutch, Swedish, and Welsh. That wonderful scholar, Sir William Jones, who, in addition to great acquirements in various other departments of knowledge, had made himself acquainted with no fewer than twenty-eight different languages, was studying the grammars of several of the Oriental dialects up till within a week of his lamented death. At an earlier period of his life, when he was in his thirty-third year, he had resolved, as appears from a scheme of study found among his papers, " to learn no more rudi- ments of any kind, but to perfect himself in, first, twelve languages, as the means of acquiring accu- rate knowledge of history, arts and sciences." These were the Greek, Latin, Italian, French, Spanish, Portuguese, Hebrew, Arabic, Persian, Turkish, Ger- man and English. When he was afterwards induced, however, from the situation he held in India, to devote himself more especially to Oriental learning, he extended his researches a great way even beyond these ample limits. In addition to the tongues already enumerated, he made himself not only completely master of San- scrit, as well as less completely of Hindostanec and Bengalee, but to a considerable extent, also, of the other Indian dialects, called MITHRIDATES AND CLEOPATRA. Mithridates, King of Pontus, knew twenty-two languages, and spoke them correctly. And Plutarch says that Cleo- patra knew almost all the lan- guages spoken by the people of the Levant. MADAME ANNA BISHOP. When Madame Anna Bishop was giving concerts in Guanaju- ato, Mexico, in the winter of 1849, her placards announced that she would sing in ten languages, viz : Spanish, Italian, French, Ger- man, Russian, Tartar, English, Irish, Scotch and Ethiopian I THE TRAVELING LIBRARY. Professor Porson, the celebrat- ed Grecian, was once traveling in a stage-coach, where a young Oxonian, fresh from college, was amusing the ladies with a variety of talk, and amongst other things, with a quotation, as he said, from Sophocles. A Greek quotation, and in a coach too, roused the slumbering professor from a kind PHILOLOGY AND LINGUISTS. 151 of dog-sleep, in a snug corner of the vehicle. Shaking his ears and rubbing his eyes, " I think, young gentleman," said he, " you favored us just now with a quo- tation from Sophocles ; I do not happen to recollect it there." " O, sir," replied the tyro, " the quota- tion is word for word as I have repeated it, and from Sophocles, too; but I suspect, sir, it is some time since you were at college." The professor, applying his hand to his great-coat pocket, and tak- ing out a small pocket edition of Sophocles, quietly asked him if he would be kind enough to show him the passage in question in that little book. After rumma- ging the pages for some time, he replied, " Upon second thoughts, 1 now recollect that the passage is in Euripides." " Then, perhaps, sir," said the professor, putting his hand again into his pocket, and handing him a similar edition of Euripides, "you will be so good as to find it for me in that little book." The young Oxonian again returned to his task, but with no better success, muttering, howev- er, to himself, a vow never again to quote Greek in a stage-coach. The tittering of the ladies inform- ed him plainly that he had got into a hobble. At last, " Why, sir," said he, " how dull I am I I recollect now ; yes, now I perfect- ly remember that the passage is in JEschylus." The inexorable professor returned to his inex- haustible pocket, and was in the act of handing him an TEschylus, when our astonished freshman vociferated, " Coachman 1 holloa, coachman ! let me out; I say in- stantly let me out! There's a fellow here has the whole Bod- leian library in his pocket." THE RETORT NOT COURTEOUS. " Dr. Porson," said a gentle- man to the great " Grecian," with whom he had been disputing- " Dr. Porson, my opinion of you is most contemptible." " Sir," returned the doctor, "1 never knew an opinion of yours that was not contemptible." DR. JOHNSON. Dr. Johnson had a veneration for the voice of mankind beyond what most people will own ; and, as he liberally confessed that all his own disappointments proceed- ed from himself, he hated to hear others complain of general injus- tice. " I remember," says Mrs. Piozzi, " when lamentation was made of the neglect showed to a great philologist, as some one ventured to call him, ' He is a scholar, undoubtedly, sir,' replied Dr. Johnson ; ' but remember that he would run from the world, and that it is not the world's business to run after him. I hate a fel- low whom pride, or cowardice, or laziness drives into a corner, and does nothing, when he is there, but sit and growl; let him come out, as I do, and bark' " Dr. George, the celebrated Gre- cian, upon hearing the praises of the great King of Prussia, enter- tained considerable doubt whether the king, with all his victories, knew how to conjugate a Greek verb in pi. CLASSICAL GLORY. 152 PHILOLOGY AND LINGUISTS. CAN SHE SPIN? when his indentures were not half expired, and completed reading Virgil in the evenings of one win- ter. He next studied Greek, and carried the Greek grammar about in his hat, studying it for a few moments while heating some large iron. In the evenings, he sat down to Homer's Iliad, and read twenty books of it during the second win- ter. He next turned to the modern tongues, and went to New Haven, where he recited to native teach- ers in French, Spanish, German, and Italian, and at the end of two years he returned to his forge, taking with him such books as he could procure. He next com- menced Hebrew, and soon mas- tered it with ease, reading two chapters in the Bible before break- fast; this, with an hour at noon, being all the time he could spare from work. Being unable to pro- cure such books as he desired, he determined to hire himself to some ship bound to Europe, thinking he would there meet with books at the different ports he touched at. He traveled more than a hundred miles on foot to Boston with this view, but was not able to find what he sought; and at that period he heard of the American Antiquarian Society at Worcester. Thither he bent his steps, and ar- rived in the city in utter indigence. Here he found a collection of an- cient, modern, and Oriental books, such as he never imagined to be collected in one place. He was there kindly allowed to read what books he liked, and reaped great benefit from this permission. He used to spend three hours daily in the hall, and made such A young girl was presented to James I, as an English prodigy, because she was deeply learned. The person who introduced her boasted of her proficiency in an- cient languages. "1 can assure your majesty," said he, " that she can both speak and write Latin, Greek, and Hebrew." " These are rare attainments for a damsel," said James; " but, pray tell me, can she spin ?" Dr. Gillies, the historian of Greece, and Dr. Porson, used now and then to meet. The conse- quence was certain to be a literary contest. Porson was much the deeper scholar of the two. Dr. Gillies was one day speaking to him of the Greek tragedies, and of Pindar's odes. " We know noth- ing," said Dr. Gillies, emphati- cally, "of the Greek metres." Porson answered, " If, doctor, you will put your observation in the singular number, I believe it will be very accurate." DRS. EORSON AND GILLIES. ELIHU BURRITT, THE LEARNED BLACKSMITH. A letter written by Elihu Bur- ritt, the learned blacksmith, con- tains some interesting incidents of his career. Mr. Burritt mentions that, be- ing one of a large family, and his parents poor, he apprenticed him- self, when very young, to a black- smith, but that he had always had such a taste for reading, that he carried it with him to his trade. He commenced the study of Latin PHILOLOGY AND LINGUISTS. 153 use of these privileges as to be able to read upwards of fifty languages with greater or less facility. me to apply myself to the study of it again ; and I met with more success, as those preceding lan- guages had greatly smoothed my way." FRANKLIN. Franklin commenced the study of the languages at twenty-seven years of age. We quote his ac- count of the manner in which he pursued this branch of his studies: "I had begun," says he, "in 1733, to study languages. I soon made myself so much a master of the French as to be able to read the books in that language with ease. I then undertook the Italian. An acquaintance, who was also learning it, used often to tempt me to play chess with him. Finding this took up too much of the time I had to spare for study, I at length refused to play any more, unless on this condition-that the victor in every game should have a right to impose a task, either of parts of the grammar to be got by heart, or in translations, etc., which task the vanquished was to per- form upon honor before our next meeting. As we played pretty equally, we thus beat one another into that language. I afterwards, with a little painstaking, acquired as much of the Spanish as to read their books also. I have already mentioned that I had had only one year's instruction in a Latin school, and that when very young, after which I neglected that language entirely. But when I had attained an acquaintance with the French, Italian, and Spanish, I was sur- prised to find, on looking over a Latin Testament, that I under- stood more of that language than I had imagined, which encouraged A FEMALE LINGUIST. Maria Cajetana Agnesi, an Ital- ian lady of great learning, was born at Milan, March 16, 1718. Her inclinations, from her earliest youth, led her to the study of sci- ence, and at an age when young persons of her sex attend only to frivolous pursuits, she made such astonishing progress in mathe- matics, that when, in 1750, her father, professor in the University of Bologna, was unable to continue his lectures, from infirm health, she obtained permission from the Pope, Benedict XIV, to fill his chair. Before this, at the early age of nineteen, she had supported one hundred and ninety-one theses, which were published in 1738, under the title of Propositions Philosophies. She was mistress of Latin, Greek, Hebrew, French, German, and Spanish. At length she gave up her studies and went into the monastery of the Blue Nuns, at Milan, where she died, January 9, 1799. In 1740, she published a discourse tending to prove " that the study of the liberal arts is not incompatible with the understandings of woman." This was written when she was very young; she wrote upon mathe- matics of a high order-fluxions and analytics. The commentators of Newton were acquainted with her mathematical works while they were in manuscript. In 1801, these works were published in two 154 PIRACY IN THE PULPIT. volumes, at the expense of Mr. Baron Maseres, to do honor to her memory, and to prove that women have minds capable of compre- hending the most abstruse studies. Her eulogy was pronounced by Frisi, and translated into French by Boulard. PIRACY IN THE PULPIT. DR. SOUTH. to him. He received the rector's courtesies, and thanked him for the very edifying sermon he had preached, suggesting that it must have been the result of a good deal of labor. ' Oh, no,' said the rector, ' we turn off these things rapidly. On Friday afternoon and Satur- day morning I produced this dis- course.' ' Is that possible, sir,' said Dr. South, 'it took me three weeks to write that very sermon.' ' Your name is not Dr. South?' said the rector. 'It is, sir,' said Dr. South. 'Then,' said the rector, 'I have only to say that I am not ashamed to preach Dr. South's sermons anywhere.' " Webster, in his " great India- rubber speech " at Trenton, re- lated the following anecdote: " May it please your honors-I remember having heard an anec- dote of a celebrated divine, Dr. South, a man of great learning and virtue. He relieved himself of his clerical duties one summer by traveling incog. He went into a country church in the north of England one Sabbath morning, and heard the rector read a ser- mon. In coming from the church, the rector suspected him to be a brother of the ministry, and spoke PLEASURES AND TOILS OF LITERATURE. Literature has its solitary plea- sures, and they are many; it has also its social pleasures, and they are more. The Persian poet, Sadi, teaches a moral in one of his apologues. Two friends pass- ed a summer day in a garden of roses; one satisfied himself with admiring their colors and inhaling their fragrance; the other filled his bosom with the leaves, and enjoyed at home, during several days, with his family, the delicious- ness of the perfume. The first was the solitary, the second the social student. He wanders among many gardens of thought, but al- ways brings back some flower in his hand. Who can estimate the advantages that may result from this toil and this application of it! The domestic history of the amiable Cowper, notwithstanding his abiding melancholy, presents us with some placid and even glowing pictures-when contem- PLEASURES AND TOILS OF LITERATURE. 155 plated seated on his sofa, rehears- ing each newly, constructed pas- sage to his faithful Mary Unwin. In their method of economizing time, we find a certain uniformity in the practice of authors and students, of gathering up their spare minutes. Some writers yielding to their pleasing toils over the midnight lamp: others, again, devoting the early dawn of day to the sweet and silent com- munings of their muse. Says an anonymous writer: " The morning has been speci- ally consecrated to study by the example of the Christian scholar. Hackett calls it, very prettily, and in the spirit of Cowley or Carew, ' the mother of honey dews and pearls which drop upon the paper from the student's pen.' The learned and excellent Bishop Jew- ell affords a very delightful speci- men of the day of an English scholar, who not only lived among his books but among men. He commonly rose at four o'clock, bad private prayers at five, and attended the public service of the church in the cathedral at six. The remainder of the morning was given to study. One of his biographers has drawn a very interesting sketch of Jewell dur- ing the day. " At meals, a chapter being first read, he recreated himself with scholastic wars between young scholars whom he enter- tained at his table. After meals, his doors and ears were open to all suits and causes; at these times, for the most part, he des- patched all those businesses which either his place, or others' impor- tunity forced upon him, making gain of the residue of this time for study. About the hour of nine at night he called his ser- vants to an account of how they had spent the day, and admonish- ed them accordingly. From this examination to his study (how long it is uncertain, oftentimes after midnight), and so to bed; wherein, after some part of an author read to him by the gentle- man of his bed-chamber, corrt- mending himself to the protection of his Saviour, he took his rest." So it was with Fielding, Gold- smith, Steele, and many others, honorable in literature; so also with Handel, Mozart and Weber, in music; and it is one of the kindly recompenses of nature, by which she contrives to adjust so equitably the good and evil in this life. We owe that magnifi- cent oratorio the " Messiah," and others of his masterly productions to the author's most adverse cir- cumstances ; and it is doubted whether men of genius generally would have achieved half as much as they have, had their circum- stances in life been more propi- tious. Sir Walter Scott wrote his Waverley, however, for love-not of pelf, but his pen. Not so his subsequent romances. Beaumont was of opinion that a man of genius could no more help putting his thoughts on paper than a trav- eler in a burning desert can help drinking when he sees water. 156 POETICAL HEROINES. POETICAL HEROINES. BYRON'S "MAID OF ATHENS." thrilled me. I felt as if the whole debt of sympathy which Greece owes our country were repaid by this one energetic expression of gratitude. We stopped opposite a small gate, and the Greek went in without cards. It was a small stone house of a story and a half, with a ricketty flight of wooden steps at the side, and not a blade of grass or sign of a flower in court or window. If there had been but a geranium in the porch, or a rose-tree by the gate, for de- scription's sake. Mr. Black was out-Mrs. Black was in. We ■walked up the creaking steps, ■with a Scotch terrier barking and snapping at our heels, and we were met at the door by, really, a very pretty woman. She smiled as I apologized for our intrusion, and a sadder or a sweetci' smile I never saw. She said her welcome in a few simple words of Italian, and I thought there were few sweeter voices in the world. I asked her if she had not learned English yet. She colored, and said "No, Signore I" and the deep spot in her cheek faded gradually down in tints a painter would re- member. Her husband, she said, had wished to learn her language, and would never let her speak English. I began to feel a pre- judice against him. Presently a boy of perhaps three years, came into the room-an ugly, white- headed, Scotch-looking little ruf- fian, thin-lipped and freckled, and my aversion for Mr. Black became quite decided. " Did you not re- " Maid of Athens, ere we part, Give, O give me back my heart." The Maid of Athens, in the very teeth of poetry, lias become Mrs. Black, of Egina! The beau- tiful Teresa Makri, of whom Byron asked back his heart, of whom Moore and Hobhouse, • and the poet himself, have written so much and so passionately, has forgotten the sweet burden of the sweetest of love-songs, and taken the un- romantic name, and followed the unromantic fortunes, of a Scotch- man 1 The commodore proposed that we should call upon her on our way to the temple of Jupiter, tkis morning. We pulled up to the town in the barge, and landed on the handsome pier built by Dr. Howe (who expended thus, most judiciously, a part of the pro- visions sent from our country in his charge), and, finding a Greek in the crowd who understood a little Italian, we were soon on our way to Mrs. Black's. Our guide was a fine, grave-looking man of forty, with a small cockade on his red cap, which indicated that he was some way in the service of the government. He laid his hand on his heart when I asked him if he had known any Amer- icans in Egina. "They built this," said he, pointing to the pier, the handsome granite posts of which we were passing at the moment. " They gave us bread, and meat, and clothing, when we should otherwise have perished." It was said with a look and tone that POETICAL HEROINES. 157 gret leaving Athens?" I asked. " Very much, signore," she an- swered, with half a sigh; " but my husband dislikes Athens." Horrid Mr. Black ! thought I. I wished to ask her of Lord Byron, but I had heard that the poet's admira- tion had occasioned the usual scandal attendant on every kind of pre-eminence, and her modest and timid manners, while they assured me of her purity of heart, made me afraid to venture where there was even a possibility of wounding her. She sat in a drooping attitude on the coarsely- covered divan, which occupied three sides of the little room, and it was difficult to believe that any eye but her husband's had ever looked upon her, or that the "wells of her heart" had ever been drawn upon for anything deepei- than the simple duties of a wife and mother I She offered us some sweetmeats, the usual Greek compliment to visitors, as we rose to go, and, laying her hand upon her heart, in the beau- tiful custom of the country, re- quested me to express her thanks to the commodore for the honor he had done her in calling, and to wish him and his family every happiness. A servant-girl, very shabbily dressed, stood at the side door, and we offered her some money, which she might have taken unnoticed. She drew her- self up very coldly, and refused it, as if she thought we had quite mistaken her. In a country where gifts of the kind are so universal, it spoke well for the pride of the family, at least. I turned after we had taken leave, and made an apology to speak to her again; for in the interest of the general impression she had made upon me, I had forgotten to notice her dress, and I was not sure that I could remember a single feature of her face. We had called un- expectedly, of course, and her dress was very plain. A red cloth cap, bound about the temples with a colored shawl, whose folds were mingled with large braids of dark- brown hair, and decked with a tassel of blue silk, which fell to her left shoulder, formed her head-dress. In other respects she was dressed like a European. She is a little above the middle height, slight and well formed, and walks weakly, like most Greek women, as if her feet were too small for her weight. Her skin is dark and clear, and she has a color in her cheek and lips that looks to me consumptive. Her teeth are white and regular, her face oval, and her forehead and nose form the straight line of the Grecian model-one of the few instances I have ever seen of it. Her eyes are large, and of a soft, liquid hazel, and this is her chief beauty. There is that "looking out of the soul through them," which Byron always described as constituting the loveliness that most moved him. I made up my mind, as we walked away, that she would be a lovely woman any- where. Her horrid name, and the unprepossessing circumstances in which we found her, had un- charmed, I thought, all poetical delusion that would naturally sur- round her as the "Maid of Ath- ens." We met her as simple Mrs. 158 POETICAL HEROINES. Black, whose Scotch' husband's terrier had worried us at the door, and we left her, feeling that the poetry which she had called forth from the heart of Byron was hex' due by every law of loveliness.- W. P. Willis's Cruise in the Medi- terranean. prudence or knowledge of the world, he took her aside, and in- formed her that he could no longer live except as her husband: he therefore entreated her to elope with him that very night to Gretna Green, in order that they might be married, and threatened to do himself some extreme mischief if she should refuse. A hard-wrung consent to this most imprudent step fixed her fate to sorrow through life. The pair had not been united for many months, when Mr. Whelpdale was obliged by his debts to remove hastily from Barnhill, leaving his young wife no resource but that of re- turning to her parents at Kem- mishall. She saw her husband no more for twenty-three years. * * The subsequent history of the lady is pitiful. Some years after this outpouring of poesy in hex' praise, her fathex' was unfortunate in business, and ceased to be the wealthy man he once was. The tuneful tongue which had sung her praise was laid in silence in Dumfries church-yard. She con- tinued to derive no income from hex' husband, and scarcely even to know in what part of the world he lived. She was now, there- fore, compelled to accept of a situ- ation as plain governess in a gen- tleman's family: and in such situ- ations she passed some years of hex' life. In 181G, returning from a visit to hex' brother in Sunder- land, she inquired at Brampton for her husband, and learned that she had only missed seeing him by a few hours, as he had that day been in the village. He was now squandering some fourth or burns' "chloris." " Lassie, wi' the lint-white locks, Bonnie lassie, artless lassie. Mr. Lorimer's eldest daughter' Jean was at this time a very young lady, but possessed of uncommon personal charms. Hex' form was symmetry itself, and, notwithstanding hair of flaxen lightness, the beauty of her face was universally admired. A Mr. Gillispie, a brother-officer' of Burns, settled at Dumfries, was already enslaved, by Miss Lori- mer' ; and to his suit the poet lent all his influence. But it was in vain. Miss Lorimer became the wife of another, under somewhat extraordinary circumstances. A young gentleman named Whelp- dale, connected with the county of Cumberland, and who had al- ready signalized himself by pro- fuse habits, settled at Barnhill, near' Moffatt, as a farmer. He was acquainted with a respectable farmer named Johnston, at Drum- crieff, near Craigieburn, where Miss Lorimer visited. He thus became acquainted with the young beauty. He paid his addresses to her, and it is supposed that she was not adverse to his suit. One night, in March, 1793, when the poor' girl was still some months less than eighteen years of age, and of course possessed of little POETRY AND POETS. 159 fifth fortune, which had been left I to him by a relation. Not long after, learning that he was im- prisoned for debt at Carlisle, she went to see him. Having an- nounced to him her wish for an interview, she went to the place where he was confined, and was desired to walk in. His lodging was pointed out to her on the op- posite side of a quadrangle, round which there was a covered walk, as in the ambulatories of the an- cient religious houses. As she walked along one side of this court, she passed a man whose back was towards her-a bulky- looking person, slightly paralytic, and who shuffled in walking, as if from lameness. As she approach- ed the door, she heard this man pronounce her name. " Jean," he said, and then immediately added, as under a more formal feeling, "Mrs. Whelpdale!" It was her husband-the gay youth of 1793 being now transformed into a broken-down, middle-aged man, whom she had passed without even suspecting who he was. The wife had to ask the figure if he was her husband, and the figure answered that he was. To such a scene many a romantic marriage leads! There was kindness, never- theless, between the long-separat- ed pair. Jean spent a month in Carlisle, calling upon her husband every day, and then returned to Scotland. Some months after- wards, when he had been liber- ated, she paid him another visit; but his utter inability to make a prudent use of any money en- trusted to him, rendered it quite impossible that they should ever renew their conjugal life. After this she never saw him again. It is understood that this poor, un- protected woman at length was led into an error which cost her the respect of society. She spent some time in a kind of vagrant life, verging on mendicancy, and never rising above the condition of a domestic servant. She never ceased to be elegant in her form and comely of face; nor did she ever cease to recollect that she had been the subject of some dozen compositions by one of the greatest modern masters of the lyre.- Chambers's Life of Burns. POETRY AND POETS. state of any man's hopes or fears, rights or wrongs. I should as soon read a register of the weath- er, the barometer up so many inches to-day and down so many inches to-morrow. I feel skepti- cism all over me at the sight of agonies on paper, things that come as regular and as notorious LORD BYRON AND MR. CURRAN. When Lord Byron rose into fame, Curran constantly objected to his talking of himself, as the great drawback on his poetry. "Any subject," said he, " but that eternal one of self. I am weary of knowing once a month the 160 POETRY AND POETS. as the full of the; moon. The truth is, his lordship weeps for the press, and wipes his eyes with the public. that great fertility was the char- acteristic of all novelists and sto- ry-tellers. Richardson could have gone on for ever; his Sir Charles Grandison was originally in thir- ty volumes. Instanced Charlotte Smith, Madame Cottin, etc., etc. Scott, since he was a child, ac- customed to legends, and to the exercise of the story-telling facul- ty, sees nothing to stop him as long as he can hold a pen. Spoke of the very little knowledge of real poetry that existed now; so few men had time to study. For instance, Mr. Canning; one could hardly select a cleverer man ; and yet, what did Mr. Can- ning know of poetry ? What time had he, in the busy political life that he led, to study Dante, Homer, etc., as they ought to be studied, in order to arrive at the true principles of taste in works of genius? Mr. Fox, indeed, to- wards the latter part of his life, made leisure for himself, and took to improving his mind; and, ac- cordingly, all his latter public displays bore a greater stamp of wisdom and good taste than his early ones. Mr. Burke alone was an exception in this description of public men ; by far the great- est man of his age; not only abounding in knowledge himself, but feeding, in various directions, his most able cotemporaries; as- sisting Adam Smith in his Polit- ical Economy and Reynolds in his Lectures on Painting. Fox, too, who acknowledged that all he had ever learned from books was nothing to what he had de- rived from Burke." POETS AT BREAKFAST. The following specimen of the table-talk of poets is taken from " Moore's Diary." The entry is dated October 27, 1820: "Wordsworth came at half-past eight, and stopped to breakfast. Talked a good deal. Spoke of Byron's plagiarisms from him; the whole third canto of Childe Harold founded on his style and sentiments. The feeling of natur- al objects which is there express- ed, not caught by B. from nature herself, but from him (Words- worth), and spoiled in the trans- mission. Tintern Abbey, the source of it all; from which same poem, too, the celebrated passage about Solitude, in the first canto of Childe Harold, is (he said) tak- en, with this difference, that what is naturally expressed by him, has been worked by Byron into a labored and antithetical sort of declamation. Spoke of the Scott- ish Novels. Is sure they are Scott's. The only doubt he ever had on the question did not arise from thinking them too good to be Scott's, but, on the contrary, from the infinite number of clumsy things in them; commonplace contrivances, worthy only of the Minerva press, and such bad, vul- gar English as no gentleman of education ought to have written. When I mentioned the abundance of them, as being rather too great for one man to produce, he said, POETRY AND POETS. 161 EDGAR ALLEN POE. side?" "I don't know how it may be with the other passengers," answered Lamb, " but that last piece of oyster-pie did the busi- ness for me." Coleridge, during one of his interminable table-talks, said to Lamb, "Charley, did you ever hear me preach?" "I never heard you do anything else," was the prompt and witty reply of Elia, which has become a favor- ite byword at the present day. The regular routine of clerkly business ill suited the literary tastes and the wayward though in- nocent habits of our essayist. Once at the India House, one in authority said to him - "I have remarked, Mr. Lamb, that you come very late in the morning." "Yes, sir," replied the wit, "but I go away early in the afternoon." The oddness of the excuse silenced the reprover, who turned away with a smile. A retired cheesemonger, who hated any allusion to the business that had enriched him, once re- marked to Charles Lamb, in the course of a discussion on the poor- law, " You must bear in mind, sir, that I have got rid of all that stuff' which you poets call the 'milk of human kindness.' " Lamb looked at him steadily and gave his ac- quiescence in these words: "Yes sir, I am aware of it; you turned it all into cheese several years ago." The conversation of Edgar Al- len Poe, the gifted American poet, was at times, says R. W. Griswold, almost supermortal in its eloquence. His voice was modulated with astonishing skill, and his large and variably ex- pressive eyes looked repose or shot fiery tumult into theirs who listened, while his own face glow- ed or was changeless in pallor as his imagination quickened his blood, or drew it back frozen to his heart. His imagery was from the worlds which no mortal can see but with the vision of genius. Suddenly starting from a proposi- tion exactly and sharply defined in terms of utmost simplicity and clearness, he rejected the forms of customary logic, and, by a crystalline process of accretion, built up his occular demonstra- tions in forms of gloomiest and ghastliest grandeur, or in those of the most airy and delicious beauty - so minutely and distinctly, yet so rapidly, that the attention which was yielded to him was chained till it stood among his wonderful creations, till he him- self dissolved the spell, and brought his hearers back to com- mon and base existence by vulgar fancies or exhibitions of the ig- noblest passion. CHARLES LAMB. It is told of Charles Lamb, that one afternoon, returning from a dinner-party, having taken a seat in a crowded omnibus, a stout gentleman subsequently looked in, and politely asked, "All full in- CHARLES LAMB AND THE POET- ASTER. Lamb was once invited by an old friend to meet an author, who had just published a volume of 162 POETRY AND POETS. poems. When he' arrived, being somewhat early, he was asked by his host to look over the volume of the expected visitor. A few minutes convinced Elia that it possessed very little merit, being a feeble echo of different authors. This opinion of the poetaster was fully confirmed by the appear- ance of the gentleman himself, whose self-conceit, and confidence in his own book, were so manifest as to awaken in Lamb that spirit of mischievous waggery so char- acteristic of the humorist. Lamb's rapid and tenacious memory en- abled him during the dinner to quote fluently several passages from the pretender's volume. These he gave with this introduc- tion-" This reminds me of some verses I wrote when I was very young." He then, to the astonish- ment of the gentleman in question, quoted something from the vol- ume. Lamb tried this a second time: the gentleman looked still more surprised, and seemed evidently bursting with suppressed indigna- tion. At last, as a climax to the fun, Lamb coolly quoted the well- known opening lines of Paradise Lost, as written by himself. This was too much for the verse- monger. He immediately rose to his legs, and, with an impressive solemnity of manner, thus ad- dressed the claimant to so many poetical honors: " Sir, I have tamely submitted all this evening to hear you claim the merit that may belong to any little poems of my own; this I have borne in si- lence ; but, sir, I never will sit quietly by and see the immortal Milton robbed of Paradise Lost. DIPPING CHARLES LAMB. " Coleridge," says De Quincey, "told me of a ludicrous embarrass- ment which Lamb's stammering caused him at Hastings. Lamb had been medically advised to a course of sea-bathing; and, accord- ingly, at the door of his bathing- machine, whilst he stood shivering with cold, two stout fellows laid hold of him, one at each shoulder, like heraldic supporters; they waited for the word of command from their principal, who began the following oration to them: " Hear me, men ! take notice of this; I am to be dipped " What more he would have said is unknown to land or sea bathing machines ; for, having reached the word dipped, he commenced such a rolling fire of di-di-di-di, that when at length he descended a plomb upon the full word dipped, the two men, rather tired of the long suspense, became satisfied that they had reached what law- yers call the " operative " clause of the sentence, and both exclaim- ing at once, " 0, yes, sir, we're quite aware of that," down they plunged him into the sea. On emerging, Lamb sobbed so much from the cold, that he found no voice suitable to his indigna- tion ; from necessity he seemed tranquil; and again addressing the men, who stood respectfully listen- ing, he began thus: " Men, is it possible to obtain your attention?" " O, surely, sir, by all means." " Then listen: once more I tell you POETRY AND POETS. 163 I am to be di-di-di-•,* and then, with a burst of indignation, " dipped, I tell you " " O, decidedly, sir." And down the stammerer went for the second time. Petrified with cold and wrath, once more Lamb made a feeble attempt at explanation. " Grant me pa-pa-patience ; is it mum -mu-murder you me-me- mean ? Again, and a-ga-ga- gain, I tell you I'm to be di-di- di-dipped " now speaking furiously with the voice of an in- jured man. " O, yes, sir," the men replied, "we know that-we fully understand itand, for the third time, down went Lamb into the sea. " O limbs of Satan I" he said, on coming up for the third time, " it's now too late. I tell you that I am-no, that I was to be di-di -di-dipped only once." race, and betted on the success of one horse, to the amount of fifty pounds with Professor Wilson. At the end of the race he thought he had lost the bet, and said to Wilson, " I owe you fifty pounds; but really, when I reflect that you are a professor of moral philoso- phy, and that betting is a sort of gambling only fit for blacklegs, I cannot bring my conscience to pay the bet." " 0," said Wilson, " I very much approve of your principles, and mean to act upon them. In point of fact, Yellow Cap, on whom you betted, has won the race; and, but for conscience, I ought to pay you the fifty pounds ; but you will ex- cuse me." Chatterton's misery. A prodigy of genius, the unfor- tunate Chatterton, was amusing himself one day, in company with a friend, reading the epitaphs in Pancras Church-yard. He was so deep sunk in thought as he walked on, that, not perceiving a grave that was just dug, he tumbled into it. His friend, observing his situa- tion, ran to his assistance, and as he helped him out, told him, in a jocular manner, he was happy in assisting at the resurrection of genius. Poor Chatterton smiled, and, taking his companion by the arm, replied, " My dear friend, I feel the sting of a speedy dissolu- tion. I have been at war with the grave for some time, and find it is not so easy to vanquish it as I imagined. We can find an asy- lum to hide from every creditor but that." pope's accuracy. "At fifteen years of age," says Pope, "I got acquainted with Mr. Walsh. He encouraged me much, and used to tell me that there was one way left of excelling; for though we had several great poets, we never had any one great poet that was correct. He ended his remarks by desiring me to make accuracy my study and aim." This, perhaps, first led Pope to turn his lines over and over again so often. This habit he continued to the last, and he did it with a surprising facility. CAMPBELL AND WILSON. " Campbell," says Dr. Beattie, " went to Paisley races, got pro- digiously interested in the first 164 POETRY AND POETS. His friend endeavored to divert his thoughts from the gloomy re- flection : but what will not melan- choly and adversity combined sub- jugate? In three days after, the neglected and disconsolate youth put an end to his miseries by poison. Montgomery; and so I am, in a great measure, robbed of what lit- tle hard-earned fame I possess.* "The poet, evidently, was much mortified by Robert's assumption of his name, and did not endeavor to disguise his contempt for the literary pirate, who sailed under false colors. His intimate friends say that this is the only subject which ruffles the habitual serenity of his mind ; and well it may, for it must be no trifling annoyance to see that fame, which was acquired by years of toil and patient endu- rance, periled in the minds of many by the productions of such a popinjay as the author of Oxford and Woman." A writer in the Boston Atlas gives the following account of an interview with Montgomery, the Cowper of his age : " I found Montgomery, in con- versation, delightful. There was nothing of the 'I am a poet' about him; but he entered freely and fa- miliarly into conversation, and ex- pressed his opinions on the litera- ture of the day with as much diffi- dence as if he had himself only worshiped the Muse 'afar off.' . . " In the course of the evening, the conversation turned on Robert Montgomery's poetry, which was then making some noise. James, for some time, took no part in what was going on, but was an attentive listener. At last, it seemed as if flesh and blood could bear it no longer, for he commented on the meanness of Satan Bob in assum- ing his name, for the purpose of cheating the public into the pur- chase of his wares. 'It has been a serious business to me,' said the true Montgomery, ' for I am con- stantly receiving letters, evidently intended for another person, in which I am either mercilessly abused for what I never wrote, or bespattered with compliments of the most nauseating character. Many, to this day, do not distin- guish between me and Robert JAMES MONTGOMERY. "I believe," says Miss Sedg- wick, "of all my pleasures here, dear J. will most envy me that of seeing Joanna Baillie, and of see- ing her repeatedly at her home- the best point of view for all best women. She lives on Hampstead Hill, a few miles from town, in a modest house, with Miss Agnes Baillie, her only sister, a kindly and agreeable person. "Miss Baillie-I write this for J., for women always like to know how one another look and dress- Miss Baillie has a well-preserved appearance : her face has none of the vexed or sorrowful expression that is often so deeply stamped by a long experience of life. It in- dicates a strong mind, great sensi- bility, and the benevolence that, I believe, always proceeds from it if the mental constitution be a sound one, as it eminently is in Miss Baillie's case. JOANNA BAILLIE. POETRY AND POETS. 165 " She has a pleasing figure, what we call lady-like, that is, delicate, erect, and graceful; not the large- boned, muscular frame of most English women. She wears her own gray hair-a general fashion, by the way, here, which I wish we elderly ladies of America may have the courage and the taste to imitate; and she wears the pret- tiest of brown silk gowns and bon- nets, fitting the beau-ideal of an old lady-an ideal she might inspire, if it has no pre-existence. "You would, of course, expect her to be free from pedantry and all modes of affectation; but I think you would be surprised to find yourself forgetting, in a do- mestic and confiding feeling, that you were talking with the woman whose name is best established among the female writers of her country; in short, forgetting ev- erything but that you were in the society of a most charming private gentlewoman. She might-would that all female writers could- take for her device a flower that closes itself against the noontide sun, and unfolds in the evening shadows." language." Southey, who was also distinguished as a prose-writer, pays a similar tribute to Cowper's letters. Such, indeed, is the uni- versal judgment passed upon the unstudied grace and inimitable ease of those compositions with which the poet charmed his friends and occupied the leisure of his se- cluded life, when not engaged in the work of his high poetical vo- cation. cowper's schoolboy tor- mentor. At school, first in his native vil- lage, and subsequently at West- minster, Cowper suffered much from the cruelty of boys older and stronger than himself, who took a malicious delight in tyrannizing over him ; and such was the effect of the savage treatment upon his gentle spirit, that, speaking of a lad of about fifteen years of age, who acted towards him with peculiar barbarity, " I well remember," he says, "being afraid to lift my eyes upon him higher than his knees, and that he knew him better by his shoe-buckles than by any other part of his dress. May the Lord pardon him, and may we meet in glory!" cowper's letters. William Cowper is pre-eminent- ly the Christian poet of our age and nation, and, high as is the rank assigned to his verse by the unanimous consent of the whole literary world, it is not higher than that to which his prose is en- titled. Robert Hall, himself a master of English, said-" I have always considered the letters of Mr. Cowper as the finest speci- mens of the epistolary style in our FELICIA HEMANS. A traveler who called on Mrs. Hernans, at Wavertree, in 183-, gives us some pleasing recollec- tions. "After some conversation in the parlor," he says, " Mrs. H. proposed a visit to her study. " ' Come,' said she, ' I will show you my poetic mint;' and she led the way to a room over the one in which we were sitting. It was a 166 POETRY AND POETS. very small place, but neat almost to a fault. There were no author litterings. Everything was in order. An open letter lay on the table. She pointed to it, and said, laughingly- " 'An application for my auto- graph, and the postage unpaid. You cannot imagine how I am annoyed with albums and such matters. A person who ought to have known better, sent me an album lately, and begged a piece from me, if it were only long enough to fill up a page of sky- blue tinted paper, which he had selected for me to write upon.' "In incidentally referring to her compositions,she said, 'They often remain chiming in my mind for days, before I commit them to pa- per; and sometimes I quite forget many, which I compose as I lie awake in bed. Composition is less a labor with me than the act of writing down what has impressed me, excepting in the case of blank verse, which always involves some- thing like labor. My thoughts have been so used to go in the harness of rhyme, that when they are suffered to run without it, they are often diffused, or I lose sight, in the ardor of composition, of the leading idea altogether.' " Mrs. Hemans's voice was pe- culiarly musical, and I would have given anything to have heard her recite some of her own poetry ; but I did not dare to hazard such a request, and feeling that I had intruded quite long enough on her time, I intimated my intention of taking my departure, when she begged me to partake of some re- freshment. " I must not omit to mention, for the especial benefit of my fair readers, that Mrs. Hemans's dress was simple enough. She wore a white gown (I am really not learned enough in such matters to say whether it was cotton or muslin), over which was thrown a black lace shawl; on her head was a cap of very open network, without flowers or ornament of any kind." An American visitor gives the following description of Mrs. He- mans : " I cannot well conceive of a more exquisitely beautiful crea- ture than Mrs. liemans was. None of the portraits or busts I have ever seen of her do her jus- tice, nor is it possible for words to convey to the reader any idea of the matchless yet serene beau- ty of her expression. Her glossy, waving hair was parted on her forehead, and terminated, on the sides, in rich and luxuriant au- burn curls ; there was a dove-like look in her eyes, and yet there was a chastened sadness in their expression. Her complexion was remarkably clear, and her high forehead looked as pure and spot- less as Parian marble. A calm repose, not unmingled with mel- ancholy, was the characteristic expression of her face; but when she smiled, all traces of sorrow were lost, and she seemed to be but ' a little lower than the angels' -fitting shrine for so pure a mind. Let me not be deemed a flatterer or an enthusiast, in thus describ- ing her, for I am only one of many who have been almost as much captivated by her personal beau- POETRY AND POETS. 167 ty as charmed by the sweetness and holiness of her productions. If ever poesies were the reflex of the beauties, personal and mental, of their writers, they were indeed so in the case of Mrs. Hernans. "We talked, of course, a great deal about poetry and poets, and she asked me if I had seen Words- worth. "On my replying that I had not, she said, ' You will be almost as much delighted with the man as with his works. He is delight- ful. I once saw him at St. Asaph, and he spent a half a day with me, reciting his own poetry.' " We talked of L. E. L. Mrs. Hernans said she had received several letters from her, contain- ing pressing invitations to visit London. ' A place I never was in, and never wish to be,' she ob- served. ' My heart beats too loudly, even in this quiet place, and there I think it would burst. The great Babel was not made for such as I.' " prise when she found that he was the author. The effect upon her, it is said, was almost overwhelm- ing. COLERIDGE AS A SOLDIER. " Mr. Coleridge," says Cottle, " told us of one. of his Cambridge eccentricities, which highly amused us. He said that he had paid his addresses to a Mary Evans, who, rejecting his offer, he took it so much in dudgeon, that he with- drew from the university to Lon- don, when, in a reckless state of mind, he enlisted in the 15th reg- iment of Elliot's Light Dragoons. No objections having been taken to his height or age, he was asked his name. He had previously determined to give one that was thoroughly Kamschatkian, but having noticed that morning, over a door in Lincoln's Inn Fields, or the Temple, the name of ' Cumber- batch,' (not Cumberback,) he thought this word sufficiently out- landish, and replied ' Silas Tom- ken Cumberbatch ;' * and such was the entry in the regimental book. " Here, in his new capacity, la- borious duties devolved on Mr. C. He endeavored to think on Caasar, and Epaminondas, and Leonidas, with other ancient heroes, and composed himself to his fate ; re- membering, in every series, there must be a commencement. But still he found confronting him no imaginary inconveniences. Per- haps he who had most cause for dissatisfaction was the drill ser- geant, who thought his profession- When Janies Grahame compos- ed the poem of The Sabbath, he sent it to the press unknown to his wife. When it was issued, he brought her a copy, and requested her to read it. As his name was not prefixed to the work, she did not dream that he had anything to do with it. As she went on reading, the sensitive author walk- ed up and down the room. At length site broke out in praise of the poem, and turning to him, said, " Ah, James, if you could but produce a poem like this!" Judge, then, of her delighted sur- graiiame's " sabbath." * These three initials would be the proper S. T. C. affixed to his garments. 168 POETRY AND POETS. al character endangered ; for, af- ter using his utmost efforts to bring his raw recruit into some- thing like training, he expressed the most serious fears, from his unconquerable awkardness, that he should never be able to make a soldier of him. " Mr. C., it seemed, could not even rub down his own horse, which, however, it should be known, was rather a restive one, who, like Cowper's hare, ' would bite if it could,' and, in addition, kick not a little. We could not suppose that these predispositions in the martial steed were at all aggravated by the unskillful jock- eyship to which he was subjected ; but the sensitive quadruped did rebel a little in the stable, and wince a little in the field. Perhaps the poor animal was something in the state of the horse that carried Mr. Wordsworth's Idiot Boy, who, in his sage con- templations, ' wondered what he had got upon his back.' " This rubbing down of his horse was a constant source of annoyance to Mr. C., who thought the most rational way was, to let him rub himself down, shaking himself clean, and so to shine in all his native beauty; but on this subject there were two opinions, and his that was to decide carried most weight. If it had not been for the foolish and fastidious taste of the ultra precise sergeant, this whole mass of trouble might be avoided; but seeing the thing must be done, or punishment, he set about the Herculean task with the firmness of a Wallenstein. But Io ! the paroxysm was brief as the necessity that called it forth. " Mr. C. overcame this im- mense difficulty by bribing a young man of the regiment to perform the achievement for him, and that on very easy terms, namely, by writing him some love stanzas to send to his sweetheart. " Mr. Coleridge, in the midst of all his deficiencies, it appear- ed, was liked by the men, although he was the butt of the whole com- pany ; being esteemed by them as next of kin to a natural, though of a peculiar kind-a talkingnatural. This fancy of theirs was stoutly resisted by the love-sick swain ; but the regimental logic prevail- ed ; for, whatever they could do with masterly dexterity, he could not do at all; ergo must he not be a natural ? " There was no man in the reg- iment who met with so many falls from his horse as Silas Tom- ken Cumberbatch. He often cal- culated with so little precision, his due equilibrium, that, in mounting on one side-perhaps the wrong stirrup-the probability was, especially if the horse moved a little, that he lost his balance, and if he did not roll back on this side, came down ponderously on the other. Then the laugh spread amongst the men-' Silas is oft again.' Mr. C. had often heard of campaigns, but he never before had so correct an idea of hard ser- vice. Some mitigation was now in store for Mr. C., arising out of a whimsical circumstance. He had peen placed, as a sentinel, at the POETRY AND POETS. 169 door of a ball room, or some pub- lic place of resort, when two of his officers, passing in, stopped for a moment near Mr. C., talking about Euripides, two lines from whom one of them repeated. " At the sound of Greek, the sentinel instinctively turned his ear, when he said, with all defer- ence, touching his lofty cap, ' I hope your honor will excuse me, but the lines you have repeated are not quite accurately cited. These are the lines,' when he gave them in their more correct form. ' Besides,' said Mr. C., ' instead of being in Euripides, the lines will be found in the second antistrophe of the CEdipus of Sophocles.' 'Why, man, who are you ?' said the officer; 'old Faustus ground young again?' 'I am your hon- or's humble sentinel,' said Mr. C., again touching his cap. " The officers hastened into the room, and inquired of one and an- other about that ' odd iish' at the door, when one of the mess-it is believed the surgeon-told them that he had his eye upon him, but he could neither tell where he came from, nor anything about his family of the Cumberbatches ; ' but,' continued he, ' instead of his being an ' odd fish,' I suspect he must be a ' stray bird' from the Oxford or Cambridge aviary.' They learned, also, the laughable fact, that he was bruised all over by frequent falls from his horse. ' Ah !' said one of the officers, ' we have had, at different times, two or three of these ' university birds' in our regiment.' " This suspicion was confirmed by one of the officers, Mr. Na- thaniel Ogle, who observed that he had noticed a line of Latin chalked under one of the men's saddles, and was told, on inquir- ing whose saddle it was, that it was ' Cumberbatch's.' " The officers now kindly took pity on the ' poor scholar,' and had Mr. C. removed to the medi- cal department, where he was ap- pointed assistant in the regimen- tal hospital. This change was a vast improvement in Mr. C.'s con- dition ; and happy was the day, also, on which it took place, for the sake of the sick patients ; for Silas Tom- ken Cumberbatch's amusing sto- ries, they said, did them more good than all the doctor's physic. " If he began talking to one or twro of his comrades-for they were all on a perfect equality, ex- cept those who went through their exercises the best, and stretched their necks a little above the ' awk- ard squad,' in which ignoble class Mr. C. was placed as pre-eminent member, almost by acclamation -if he began to speak, notwith- standing, to one or two, others drew near, increasing momentari- ly, till by and by the sick beds were deserted, and Mr. C. formed the centre of a large circle. " In one of these interesting conversations, when Mr. C. was sitting at the foot of the bed, sur- rounded by his gaping comrades, who were always solicitous of, and never wearied with his sto- ries, the door suddenly burst open, and in came two or three gentle- men (his friends), looking some time, in vain, amid the uniform dresses, for their man. At length they pitched on Mr. C., and, taking 170 POETRY AND POETS. him by the arm, led him, in silence, out of the room-a picture, in- deed, for a Wilkie. As the sup- posed deserter passed the thresh- old, one of the astonished auditors uttered, with a sigh, ' Poor Silas I I wish they may let him off with a cool five hundred!' Mr. C.'s ransom was soon joyfully adjust- ed by his friends, and now the wide world once more lay before him." ked, being refused a continuance of his lease of the Allfoxden house by the ignoramus who had the letting of it, on the ground that he was a criminal in the disguise of an idler. One of the villagers said " that he had seen him wander about at night, and look rather strangely at the moon; and then he roamed over the hills like a partridge." Another testified, " he had heard him mutter, as he walked, in some outlandish brogue that no- body could understand." This last, we suppose, is the rustic ver- sion of the poet's own statement: " He murmurs near the running brooks, A music sweeter than their own." Others, however) took a differ- ent view of his habits, as little flattering to his morals as the oth- er view to his sense. One wise- acre remarked confidently, " I know what he is. We have all met him tramping away towards the sea. Would any man in his senses take all that trouble to look at a parcel of water? I think he carries on a snug business in the smuggling line, and, in these jour- neys, he is on the look-out foi* some wet cargo." Another carrying out this bright idea, added, " 1 know he has got a private still in his cellar ; for I once passed his house at a little better than a hundred yards' dis- tance, and I could smell the spirits as plain as an ashen fagot at Christmas." But the charge which probably had the most weight in those times was the last. " I know," said one, " that he is surely a desperate French Jacobin ; for he is so silent and dark that no The Lyrical Ballads were most- ly written at Allfoxden, near the Bristol Channel, in one of the deepest solitudes in England, amid woods, glens, streams and hills. Here Wordsworth had retired with his sister ; and Coleridge was only five miles distant, at Stowey. Cottle relates some amusing anecdotes of the ignorance of the country people in regard to them, and to poets and lovers of the pic- turesque generally. Southey, Cole- ridge and his wife, Lamb, and the two Wedgewoods visited Wordsworth in his retirement, and the whole company used to wan- der about the woods, and by the sea, to the great wonder of all the honest people they met. As they were often out at night, it was supposed they led a dissolute life ; and it is said that there are re- spectable people in Bristol who believe now that Mrs. Coleridge and Miss Wordsworth were dis- reputable women, from a remem- brance of the scandalous tattle circulating then. Cottle asserts that Wordsworth was driven from the place by the suspicions which his habits provo- WORDS WORTH. POETRY AND POETS. 171 one ever heard him say one word about politics." While the ludicrous tattle to which we have referred, was sounding all around him, he was meditating Peter Bell and the Lyrical Ballads, in the depths of the Allfoxden woods, and conse- crating the rustics who were scan- dalizing him. The great Poet of the Poor, who has made the peas- ant a grander object of contempla- tion than the peer, and who saw through vulgar externals and humble occupations to the inmost soul of the man, had sufficient provocations to be the satirist of those he idealized. The most remarkable was that of J. Howard Payne, author of Sweet Home. I knew him personally. He occupied the rooms under me for some time, and his conversa- tion was so captivating that I often spent whole days in his apartment. He was an applicant for office at the time-consul at Tunis-from which he had been removed. What a sad thing it was to see the poet subjected to all the humiliation of office-seeking. Of an evening we would walk along the streets. Once in a while we would see some family circle so happy, and forming so beautiful a group, that we would both stop, and then pass silently on. On such occasions he would give me a history of his wanderings, his trials, and all the cares incident to his sensitive na- ture and poverty. " How often," said he once, " I have been in the heart of Paris, Berlin, and Lon- don, or some other city, and heard persons singing, or the hand-organ playing, Sweet Home, without a shilling to buy the next meal or a place to lay my head. The world has literally sung my song until everyi heart is familiar with its melody. Yet I have been a wan- derer from my boyhood. My country has turned me ruthlessly from my office ; and in my old age I have to submit to humiliation for bread." Thus he would com- plain of his hapless lot. His only wish was to die in a foreign land, to be buried by strangers, and sleep in obscurity. I met him one day looking unusually sad, " Have you got your consulate ?" said I. " Yes, and leave in a week for Tunis ; I shall never return." cowper's habits of composi- tion. We learn from Southey, who had seen his MS. letters, that they " were written as easily as they appear to have been : they would otherwise (he observes) have been inimitable; they are written in a clear, beautiful, running hand, and it is rarely that an erasure occurs in them, or the slightest alteration of phrase." Cowper himself de- scribes the painstaking attention he bestowed upon his poetical composition : " Whatever faults I may be chargeable with as a poet, I cannot accuse myself of negli- gence. I never suffer a line to pass till I have made it as good as I can." EATE OF A LYRICAL WRITER. As I sit in my garret here (in Washington) watching the course of great men, and the destiny of party, I meet often with strange contradictions in this eventful life. 172 POETRY AND POETS. Poor Payne! his wish was real- ized-he died at Tunis. the most convincing instances of an author's popularity I ever met with." POETICAL POPULARITY. One of Campbell's most popular lyrics was the Wounded Huzzar. In 1802 it was a street ballad, a fact which was very annoying to the sensitive poet, who was quizzed on this proof of his success by his waggish companions. In after years Campbell regarded his street popularity in a different light. " Coming home one even- ing to my house in Park Square (narrates Dr. Beattie), where as usual he had dropped in to spend a quiet hour, I told him that I had been agreeably detained listening to some street music near Portman Square." " Vocal or in- strumental?" he inquired. "Vo- cal ; the song was an old favorite, remarkably good, and of at least forty years' standing." " Ah 1 " said he,"I congratulate the author, whoever he is." " And so do I- it was your own song, the Soldier's Dream; and when I came away the crowd was still increasing." " Well," he added, musing, " this is something like popularity I" He then, as an instance of real popu- larity, mentioned that, happening to enter a blacksmith's forge on some trifling errand many years ago, he saw a small volume lying on the bench, but so begrimed and tattered, that its title-page was almost illegible. It was Gold- smith's Deserted Village and other Poems; every page of which bore testimony to the rough hands- guided by feeling hearts-that had so often turned over its leaves. " This," he added, " was one of BOWLES. The canon's absence of mind was very great, and when his coachman drove him into Bath, he had to practice all kinds of cautions to keep him to time and place. The act of composition was a slow and laborious opera- tion with Mr. Bowles. He altered and re-wrote his MS., until, some- times, hardly anything remained of the original, excepting the gen- eral conception. When we add that his handwriting was one of the worst that ever man wrote- insomuch that frequently he could not read that which he had writ- ten the day before-we need not say that his printers had very tough work in getting his works into type. At the time when we printed for Mr. Bowles, we had one compositor who had a sort of knack in making out the poet's hieroglyphics, and he was once actually sent for by Mr. Bowles into Wiltshire to copy some MS. written a year or two before, which the poet had himself vainly endeavored to decipher.-News- paper. Cowper, like many other men of eminence, Was often indebted to others for the subjects on which he wrote. Lady Austen was very fond of blank verse, and urged her friend to try his powers in that species of composition. At length he promised to do so if she would furnish him with a subject. cowper's "task." POETRY AND POETS. 173 She replied, " 0 you can never be in want of a subject: you can write upon any: write upon this sofa." The poet obeyed her com- mand, and produced the Task. This poem, which thus arose from the lively repartee of famil- iar conversation, presents a variety including almost every subject and every style, without the violation of order and harmony, while it breathes a spirit of the purest and most exalted morality. Thomas Campbell finely re- marks, that his "whimsical outset in a work, where he promises so little and performs so much, may be advantageously contrasted with those magnificent commencements of poems which pledge both the reader and the writer, in good earnest, to a task. Cowper's poem, on the contrary, is like a river, which rises from a playful little fountain,and which gathers beauty and magnitude as it proceeds." ton," said Ellwood, in his own Life, " could discover, by the tone of my voice, when I did not clear- ly understand what I read, and open the difficult passages." Milton lent Ellwood the manu- script of Paradise Lost to read. When he returned it, Milton asked him how he liked it. "I like it much," said the judicious Quaker: " thou hast written well, and said much of Paradise Lost; but what hast thou to say of Paradise Found V' Milton made no an- swer, but sat musing for some time. When business afterwards drew Ellwood to London, he called on Milton, who showed him the poem of Paradise Regained ; and in a pleasant tone said to his friend, " This is owing to you; for you put it into my head by the ques- tion you asked me at Charlfont, which before I had not thought of." "PARADISE LOST." JONATHAN SWIFT. When this great production appeared, in 1667, the celebrated Waller wrote of it-"The old, blind schoolmaster, John Milton, hath published a tedious poem on the fall of man; if its length be not considered a merit, it has no other." Thomas Ellwood, an intelligent and learned Quaker, who was hon- ored by the intimate friendship of Milton, used to read to him vari- ous authors in the learned lan- guages, and thus contributed as well to his own improvement as to solace the dark hours of the poet when he had lost his sight. " The curious ear of John Mil- In one of his letters, Pope gives the following illustration of Dean Swift's eccentricity: " Dean Swift has an odd, blunt way, that is mistaken by strangers for ill nature: it is so odd that there is no describing it but by facts. 1'11 tell you one that first comes into my head. " One evening, Gay and I went to see him: you know how inti- mately we were all acquainted. On our coming in, ' Heyday, gen- tlemen,' says the doctor, 'what's the meaning of this visit ? How came you to leave all the great lords that you are so fond of, to come hither to see a poor dean ? ' 174 POETRY AND POETS. ' Because we would rather see you than any of them.' 'Ay, any one that did not know you so well as I do might believe you. But since you have come I must get some supper for you, I suppose.' ' No, doctor, we have supped already.' 'Supped already? That's impos- sible : why, it is not eight o'clock yet. That's very strange : but if you had not supped, I must have got something for you. Let me see; what should I have had? A couple of lobsters ? Ay that would have done very well-two shil- lings ; tarts, a shilling.' "' But you will drink a glass of wine with me, though you supped so much before your usual time only to spare my pocket.' ' No, we had rather talk with you than drink with you.' ' But if you had supped with me, as in all reason you ought to have done, you must then have drank with me. A bot- tle of wine, two shillings. Two and two are four, and one is five; just two and sixpence a-piece. There, Pope, there's half-a-crown for you; and there's another for you, sir; for I won't save anything by you, I am determined.' " This was said and done with his usual seriousness on such oc- casions ; and in spite of every- thing we could say to the con- trary, he actually obliged us to take the money." his verses ; and, when brought up, he had only made one line of Latin and two of English : " Videt et erubit lympha pudica Deum!" " The modest water, awed by power divine, Beheld its God, and blushed itself to wine:- which so pleased the master, that, instead of being angry, he said it was a presage of future greatness, and gave the youth a crown on this occasion. SIR WALTER SCOTT. When Sir Walter Scott was a schoolboy, between ten and eleven years of age, his mother one morn- ing saw him standing still in the street, and looking at the sky, in the midst of a tremendous thunder- storm. She called to him repeat- edly, but he did not seem to bear: at length he returned into the house, and told his mother that if she would give him a pencil, he would tell her why he looked at the sky. She acceded to his re- quest, and in a few minutes he laid on her lap the following lines: "Loud o'er my head what awful thunders roll! What vivid lightnings flash from pole to pole! It is thy voice, 0 God, that bids them fly; Thy voice directs them through the vaulted sky; Then let the good thy mighty power revere; Let hardened sinners thy just judgments fear." BURNS. DRYDEN. Burns, in his autobiography, in- forms us that a life of Hannibal, which he read when a boy, raised the first stirrings of his enthusi- asm ; and he adds, with his own fervid expression, that " the Life of Sir William Wallace poured a tide of Scottish prejudices into his veins, which would boil along This poet, when a boy at West- minster school, was put with oth- ers to write a copy of verses on the miracle of the conversion of water into wine. Being a great truant, he had not time to compose POETRY AND POETS. 175 them till the floodgates of life were shut in eternal rest." He adds, speaking of his retired life in early youth, "This kind of life, the cheerless gloom of a hermit, and the toil of a galley slave, brought me to my sixteenth year, when love made me a poet" poetic gift might be stimulated and determined by occasion, but it flowed forth most joyfully, most richly, when it came involun- tarily, or even against my will. " I was so accustomed to say over a song to myself without being able to collect it again, that I sometimes rushed to the desk, and, without taking time to adjust a sheet that was lying crosswise, wrote the poem diagonally from beginning to end, without stirring from the spot. For the same reason I preferred to use a pencil, which gives the characters more willing- ly ; for it had sometimes happened that the scratching and spattering of the pen would wake me from my somnambulistic poetizing, dis- tract my attention, and stifle some small product in the birth. For such poetry I had a special rever- ence. My relation to it was some- thing like a hen to the chickens, which, being fully hatched, she sees chirping about her. My former desire to communicate these things only by reading them aloud, renewed itself again. To barter them for money seemed to me detestable." Moore relates, in his Life of Lord Byron, that on a certain oc- casion, he found him occupied with the History of Agathon, a romance, by Wieland ; and, from some remarks made at the time, he seemed to be of opinion that Byron was reading the work in question as a means of furnishing suggestions to, and of quickening, his own imaginative powers. He then adds, " I am inclined to think it was his practice, when engaged in the composition of any work, to excite his vein by the perusal of others on the same subject or plan, from which the slightest hint caught by imagination, as he read, was sufficient to kindle there such a train of thought as but for that spark had never been awak- ened." BYRON. GOETHE. CRABBE. The singular facility with which Goethe's poems were produced, resembling improvisation or in- spiration rather than composition, has contributed in some cases, no doubt, to enhance their peculiar charm. " I had come," says he, " to regard the poetic talent dwell- ing in me entirely as nature; the rather that I was directed to look upon external nature as its proper subject. The exercise of tiffs When the poet Crabbe once presented one of his poems to the late Lord-Chancellor Thurlow, his lordship said, "I have no time to read verses; my avocations do not permit it." Crabbe instantly re- torted, " There was a time when the encouragement of literature was considered to be a duty apper- taining to the illustrious situation which your lordship holds." Thur- low frankly acknowledged his er- 176 POETRY AND POETS. rdr, and nobly returned it. He observed, " I ought to have no- ticed your poem, and I heartily forgive your rebuke." In proof of his sincerity he presented him with one hundred pounds, and subsequently gave him prefer- ment in the church. Adverting, in another letter, to his amusements, he says : " Poetry, above all things, is useful to me in this respect. While I am held in pursuit of pretty images, or a pretty way of expressing them, I forget everything that is irksome." The remark may remind us of one of his verses: cowper's amusements. " There is a pleasure in poetic pains, Which only poets know." "Amusements (he writes to Wm. Unwin) are necessary in a retirement like mine, especially in such a sable state of mind as I labor under. The necessity of amusement makes me a carpenter, a bird-cage maker, a gardener, and has lately taught me to draw, and to draw, too, with such sur- prising proficiency in the art, con- sidering my total ignorance of it two months ago, that, when I show your mother my productions, she is all admiration and applause." To Mr. Newton he writes: " I draw mountains, valleys, woods, and streams, and ducks, and dab- chicks. I admire them myself, and Mrs. Unwin admires them, and her praise and my praise put together are fame enough for me." The pleasure he derives from his pursuits he thus describes: " I never received a little pleasure from anything in my life; if I am delighted, it is in the extreme. The unhappy consequence of this temperament is, that my attach- ment to any occupation seldom outlives the novelty of it. That nerve of my imagination, that feels the touch of any particular amuse- ment, twangs under the energy of the pressure with so much vehe- mence, that it soon becomes sensi- ble of weariness and fatigue." QUEEN VICTORIA AND THOMAS CAMPBELL. The following story narrates the most graceful compliment and delicate return ever made by roy- alty : "I was at her Majesty's corona- tion, in Westminster Abbey," said Campbell, "and she conducted herself so well, during the long and fatiguing ceremony, that I shed tears many times. On return- ing home, I resolved, out of pure esteem and veneration, to send her a copy of all my works. "Accordingly, I had them bound up, and went personally with them to Sir Henry Wheatly, who, when he understood my errand, told me that her Majesty made it a rule to decline presents of this kind, as it placed her under obligations which were unpleasant to her. ' Say to her Majesty, Sir Henry,' I replied, ' that there is not a single thing the Queen can touch with her sceptre in any of her dominions which 1 covet; and I therefore entreat you, in your office, to pre- sent them with my devotion as a subject.' But the next day they were returned. "I hesitated," continued Camp- bell, " to open the parcel; but, on POETRY AND POETS. 177 doing so, I found, to my inexpres- sible joy, a note inclosed, desiring my autograph on them. Having complied with the wish, I again transmitted the books to her Ma- jesty; and, in the course of a day or two, received in return this ele- gant engraving, with her Majesty's autograph, as you see below." He then directed particular attention to the royal signature, which was in her Majesty's usual bold and beautiful handwriting. company, at a time when there was a strong report that she was actually though secretly married. Mrs. Hofland, on her entering the room, went up to her in her plain, straightforward way, and said, 'Ah! my dear, what must I call you?-Miss Landon, or whom?' "After a well-feigned surprise at the question, Miss Landon be- gan to talk in a tone of merry ridi- cule at this report, and ended by declaring that as to love or mar- riage, they were things that she never thought of. 'What, then, have you been doing with your- self this last month ?' " 'O, I have been puzzling my brain to invent a new sleeve; pray, how do you like it?' showing her arm. "'You never think of such a thing as love!' exclaimed a senti- mental young man; ' you, who have written so many volumes of poetry upon it!' " ' 0, that's all professional, you know,' exclaimed she, with an air of merry scorn. "'Professional!' exclaimed a grave Quaker, who stood near; 'why dost thou make a difference between what is professional and what is real? Dost thou write one thing and think another? Does not that look very much like hypocrisy?' " To this the astonished poetess made no reply, but by a look of genuine amazement. It was a mode of putting the matter to which she had evidently never been accustomed. And, in fact, there can be no question that much of her writing was professional. She had to win a golden harvest When Canning was challenged to find a rhyme for Julianna, he immediately wrote- CANNING. " Walking in the shady grove With my Julianna, For lozenges I gave my love Ip-e-cac-u-an-ha. ' ' There might be now as much fact as there was then fiction in the verses. Ipecacuanha lozenges are now sold by the apothecaries. We quote the following from William Howitt: "On the other hand, in mixed companies, witty and conversant as she was, you had a feeling that she was playing an assumed part. Her manner and conversation were not only the very reverse of the tone and sentiment of her poems, but she seemed to say things for the sake of astonishing you with the very contrast. You felt not only no confidence in the truth of what she was asserting, but a strong assurance that it was said merely for the sake of saying what her hearers would least ex- pect to hear her say. "I recollect once meeting her in MISS LANDON L.E.L. 178 POETRY AND POETS. for the comfort of others as dear to her as herself; and she felt, like all authors who have to cater for the public, that she must provide, not so much what she would of her free-will choice, but what they ex- pected from her." MOORE, BOWLES, AND CRABBE. Thomas Moore writes in his diary as follows, showing his ex- cessive love of praise: "January 21,1825.-The grand opening to-day of the Literary In- stitution at Bath. Attended the inaugural lecture by Sir G. Gibbs, at two. Walked about a little af- terwards, and to the dinner at six -Lord Lansdowne in the chair. Two bishops present; and about 108 persons altogether. Bowles and Crabbe of the number. Lord L. alluded to us in his first speech, as among the literary ornaments, if not of Bath itself, of its pre- cincts : and in describing our re- spective characteristics, said, be- ginning with me, ' the one, a speci- men of the most glowing, ani- mated, and impassioned style,' etc.; this word 'impassioned,' spoken out strongly in the very ear of the Bishop of Bath and Wells, who sat next him. On the healths of the three poets being given, though much called for, I did not rise, but motioned to Crabbe, who got up and said a few words. When it came to my turn to rise, such a burst of enthusiasm received me as I could not but feel proud of. Spoke for some time, and with much success. Concluded by some tributes to Crabbe and Bowles, and said of the latter, that ' his poetry was the first fountain at which I had drunk the pure fresh- ness of the English language, and learned (however little I might have profited by my learning) of what variety of sweetness the mu- sic of English verse is capable. From admiration of the poet, I MRS. SOUTHEY. And who was Mrs. Southey?- who but she who was so long known, and so great a favorite, as Caroline Bowles; transformed by the gallantry of the laureate, and the grace of the parson, into her matrimonial appellation. South- ey, so long ago as the 21st of Feb- ruary, 1829, prefaced his most amatory poem of All for Love,with a tender address, that is now, per- haps, worth reprinting: " Could I look forward to a distant day, With hope of building some elaborate lay, Then would I wait till worthier strains of mine Might have inscribed thy name, 0 Caroline ! For I would, while my voice is heard ou earth, Bear witness to thy genius and thy worth. But we have been both taught to feel with fear How frail the tenure of existence here; What unforeseen calamities prevent, Alas 1 how oft, the best resolved intent; And, therefore, this poor volume I address To thee, dear friend, and sister poetess ! " Robert Southey. "Keswick, Feb. 21, 1829." " TO CAROLINE BOWLES. The laureate had his wish; for in duty he was bound to say, that worthier strains than his bore in- scribed the name of Caroline con- nected with his own ; and, more- over, she was something more than a dear friend and sister poetess. " The laureate," observes a writer in Fraser's Magazine, " is a fortunate man ; his queen sup- plies him with butts (alluding to the laureateship), and his lady with Bowls: then may his cup of good fortune be overflowing." POETRY AND POETS. 179 had been at length promoted into friendship with the man, and I felt it particularly incumbent upon me, from some late allusions, to say, that I had found the life and the poetry of my friend to be but echoes to each other; the same sweetness and good feeling per- vades and modulates both. Those who call my friend a wasp, would not, if they knew him better, make such a mistake in natural history. They would find that he is a bee, of the species called the apes neatina, and that, however he may have a sting ready on the de- fensive, when attacked, his native element is that garden of social life which he adorns, and the proper business and delight of his life are sunshine and flowers.' In talking of the ' springs of health with which nature had gifted the fair city of Bath,' and of her phy- sicians, I said, ' it was not neces- sary to go back to the relationship between Apollo and Esculapius to show the close consanguinity that exists between literature and the healing art; between that art which purifies and strengthens the body, and those pursuits that re- fine and invigorate the intellect. Long,' I added, 'may they both continue to bless you with their be- neficent effects! Long may health and the Muses walk your beauti- ful hills together, and mutually mingle their respective influences, till your springs themselves shall grow springs of inspiration, and it may be said, companied by Bayly, and a sensi- ble Irishman, E. introduced me to (Ellis); went to the play together. Home to Elwyn's house, where I slept. "Jan. 22,1825.-Bowles highly gratified with what I said of him. Asked by every one to give a cor- rect copy of it for the newspapers, but shall not, for it would break the charm which all lies in manner, the occasion, etc., etc. Duncan, of Oxford, said to me, 'I have had that sweet oratory ringing in my ears all night.' " "April 11 to May 11.-For this whole month have been too closely occupied with my Sheridan task to write a word here, and must, therefore, only recollect what I can. Received a letter from some Mrs. F. (whom I never heard of before) in which she says, 'Your talents and excellence have long been the idols of my heart. With thee were the dreams of my ear- liest love,' etc. The object of the lettei' is to invite me to a dinner she is about to give to 'a few se- lect friends in memory of Lord Byron!' Her husband, she adds, is a ' gentleman and a scholar;' I wish him joy of her." WORDSWORTH AND SIR H. DAVY. We talked of Wordsworth's ex- ceedingly high opinion of himself; and she mentioned that one day, in a large party, Wordsworth, with- out any thing having been previ- ously said that could lead to the subject, called out suddenly from the top of the table to the bottom, in his most epic tone, " Davy! " and, on Davy's putting forth his head in awful expectation of what ' Flavus Ar. olio Pocula Castalia plena ministrat aqua." Quite overwhelmed with praises, I left the room. Elwin and I, ac- 180 POETRY AND POETS. was coming, said, " Do you know the reason why I published the White Doe in quarto ?" "No, what was it?" "To show the world my own opinion of it."-Moore. worth's Descriptive Sketches in 1794, and discerned amid the faults of an immature understand- ing, the promise of an original poetic genius. He, on his part, needed no other voucher for the possession of the richest intellec- tual gifts than what proceeded from his own most eloquent tongue. His mind, as yet undimmed by the fumes of opium, was now in its fullest and freshest bloom. Transcendental metaphysics had not monopolized his thoughts. His sympathies had a wider range than afterwards, and, if his dis- course sometimes lost itself in clouds, they were clouds which glowed with gorgeous hues. All who saw him in his early prime are agreed that his finest works convey a feeble notion of the pro- fusion of ideas, the brilliancy of imagery, the subtlety of specula tion, the sweep of knowledge, which then distinguished his in- exhaustible colloquial displays. Each poet had traversed regions of thought to which the other was comparatively a stranger : Words- worth full of original contempla- tions upon nature - Coleridge more conversant with systems of philosophy, and all the varieties of general literature. Coleridge was astonished to find a man who, out of the common appearances of the world, could evolve new and unexpected feelings-Wordsworth was dazzled with the splendor of apparently boundless intellectual hoards. There sprang up between them, on the instant, the strongest sentiments of admiration and af- fection. " I feel myself," writes Coleridge, "a little man by his H. K. white's LOVE OF FAME. That youthful poet and eminent scholar, Henry Kirke White, toiled hard for fame. His ambition was, that his name might not be for- gotten ; that among the aspirants to literary distinction he might be recognized, and his genius ac- knowledged. It was the fear of falling short of this that made him mournfully inquire, "Fifty years lienee and who will hear of Henry ?" Under this impulse he sacrificed health, and even life. He trimmed the midnight lamp with a tremu- lous hand, and scanned the classic page with an eye almost drowsy in death. " He nursed the pinion that impelled the steel." Having received, according to his aims, the highest honors of the university, he exclaimed, respect- ing these laurels, which he had so hardly won, and which, as the se- quel proved, he was so soon to re- linquish, " What are ye now, But thorns about my bleeding- brow ?" In sacrificing health to fame, how- ever, Henry Kirke White saw his error in time to reach that higher, purer motive, which combines with feelings of regret and sorrow, the hopes and aspirations of the Chris- tian. WORDSWORTH, COLERIDGE, AND COTTLE. Coleridge had met with Words- 181 POETRY AND POETS. A beggar stole the cheese, which set Coleridge expatiating on the superior virtues of brandy. It was he that, with thirsty impa- tience, took out the horse ; but as he let down the shafts, the theme of his eloquence rolled from the seat, and was dashed to pieces on the ground. Coleridge, abashed, gave up the horse to Cottle, who tried to pull off the collar. It proved too much for the worthy citizen's strength, and he called to Wordsworth to assist. Words- worth retired, baffled, and was re- lieved by the ever-handy Coleridge. There seemed more likelihood of their pulling off the animal's head than his collar, and they marvel- ed by what magic it had ever been got on. ' La, master,' said the servant-girl, who was passing by, 'you don't go the right way to work and turning round the col- lar, she slipped it off in an instant, to the utter confusion of the three luminaries. How Silas Cumber- batch could have gone through his cavalry training, and W. W. have spent nine-tenths of his life in the country, and neither of them have witnessed the harnessing or un- harnessing of a horse, must remain a problem for our betters." side." Of Miss Wordsworth he speaks with equal enthusiasm. " His exquisite sister is a woman indeed! in mind, I mean, and heart; for her person is such that, if you expected to see a pretty woman, you would think her rath- er ordinary-if you expected to see an ordinary woman, you would think her pretty! Her manners are simple, ardent, impressive. In every motion her most innocent soul outbeams so brightly that who saw would say- ' Guilt was a thing impossible in her.' Her information varies ; her eye watchful in minutest observation of nature, and her taste a perfect electrometer-it bends, protrudes and draws in at subtlest beauties, and most recondite faults." What Wordsworth thought of his guest, may be summed up in his well- known saying, that other men of the age had done wonderful things, but Coleridge was the only won- derful man he had ever known. Here is an anecdote of these two poets and their publisher, Cottle: "The publisher has preserved no memorials of his professional visit; but some particulars he has recorded of a former jaunt afford an amusing glimpse of the simplicity of living and ignorance of common things, which then distinguished the gifted pair. Cottle drove Wordsworth from Bristol to All- foxden in a gig, calling at Stowey by the way, to summon Coleridge and Miss Wordsworth, who fol- lowed swiftly on foot. The All- foxden pantry was empty - so they carried with them bread and cheese, and a bottle of brandy. BOYSE. Samuel Boyse, author of The. Deity, a poem, was a fag author, and, at one time, employed by Mr. Ogle to translate some of Chau- cer's tales into modern English, which he did with great spirit, at the rate of three pence a line for his trouble. Poor Boyse wore a blanket because he was destitute of breeches; and was, at. last, 182 POETRY AND POETS. found famished'to death, with a pen in his hand. monarch was couched in terms of great pathos and elegance. " Look not," said the poet " with an un- relenting countenance upon the humble advance of a man whose soul is devoted to your service; one who, a beggar, a vagrant, and an exile, has endured every spe- cies of misfortune which a perfidi- ous world can inflict. A savage host of inveterate enemies pursu- ed him, and the palace of his sov- ereign resounds with their mena- ces. Over mountains covered in snow, and valleys flooded with rain, I come a fugitive to the Athenian altar of mercy, and, ex- hausted by calamities, cast myself at your feet. " Alas I London was not the Athens the fugitive sought, nor Henry the Pericles whose gener- osity was to succor him. But who can wonder that, after sacrificing to the ax that beauty on which he once reposed with delight, nei- ther the misfortune of greatness, nor the eloquence of genius, should have been able to make the least impression on the heart of the savage Henry ? JOHN DRYDEN. It was after preparing a sec- ond edition of Virgil, that the great Dryden, who had lived, and was to die, in harness, found himself still obliged to seek fordaily bread. Scarcely relieved from one heavy task, he was compelled to hasten to another; and his efforts were now stimulated by a domestic feeling-the expected return of his son in ill health from Rome. In a letter to his bookseller, he pathetically writes, " If it please God that I must die of over-study, I cannot spend my life better than in preserving his." It was on this occasion, on the verge of his seventieth year, as he describes himself in the dedica- tion of his Virgil, that, " worn out with study, and oppressed with fortune," he contracted to supply the bookseller with ten thousand verses at sixpence a line. RABELAIS' OPINION OF THE WORLD. Rabelais had written some sen- sible pieces, which the world did not regard at all. " I will -write something," says he, " that they shall take notice of." And so he sat down to writing nonsense. Sir Robert Peel was a cotem- porary of Byron, and a scholar at tbe same university. It is rela- ted that when a great fellow of a boy tyrant, who claimed little Peel as a fag, was giving him a casti- gation, Byron happened to come by. While the stripes were suc- ceeding each other, and poor Peel was writhing under them, Byron saw and felt for the misery of his friend; and although he was not strong enough to fight the tyrant FEEL AND BYRON. This illustrious scholar, com- pelled to fly from his own country by the animosity of a priestly ca- bal, whose vices he had made the theme of his satire, sought refuge and protection under Henry VIII, of England. His appeal to that GEORGE BUCHANAN. POETRY AND POETS. 183 with any hope of success, and it was dangerous even to approach him, he advanced to the scene of action, and with a blush of rage, tears in his eyes, and in a voice trembling with terror and indig- nation, asked very humbly if he would be pleased to tell him " how many stripes he meant to inflict." " Why," replied the execution- er, " you little rascal, what is that to you ?" " Because, if you please," said Byron, "Zwould take half.'' That Byron was thus originally of a noble nature, is proved, be- yond all contradiction, by this lit- tle anecdote. " The poet's dislike occurred to our memory-there was no get- ting the better of the thought." When Churchill finished his Rosciad, he waited on an eminent bookseller with the copy; but he had suffered so severely by the publication of poetry, that he was determined to have nothing more to do with any of the rhyming sons of Apollo, unless he was in- demnified from sustaining any loss. This condition Churchill could not comply with. The bookseller, however, recommended a worthy young man to him, who had just ventured his little fortune in the uncertain sea of ink, and who would probably run the risk of publication. Churchill waited on him, and found everything to his wish. The poem was printed, advertised, and at the end of five days, ten copies were sold. Churchill was thunderstruck, and the bookseller was little less chagrined. At the end of four days more he found that six more copies were sold. The poet was almost frantic, and hurried away to a friend to ac- quaint him with his hard fate. His friend, who was intimate with Garrick, posted to him the next morning, and informed him what a beautiful picture of his as- tonishing abilities had just appear- ed in the Rosciad. Garrick swallowed the gilded pill, instant- ly sent for the poem, read it, and sounded its praises wherever he went. The next evening the pub- lisher had not a single copy left, Churchill's " rosciad." " It is well known," says Fra- zer, " that Campbell's own favor- ite poem was his Gertrude. I once heard him say, ' I never like to see my name before the Pleas- ures of Hope ; why, I cannot tell you, unless it was that, when young, I was always greeted among my friends as ' Mr. Camp- bell, author of the Pleasures of Hope' i Good morning to you, Mr. Campbell, author of the Pleas- ures of Hope' When I got mar- ried, I was married as the author of the Pleasures of Hope; and when I became a father, my son was the son of the author of the Pleasures of Hope.' A kind of grim smile, ill subdued, we are afraid, stole over our features, when, standing beside the poet's grave, we read the inscription on his coffin : " i Thomas Campbell, LL.D., author of the Pleasures of Hope, died, June 15, 1844, aged G7.' CAMPBELL. 184 POETRY AND POETS. and in a few weeks so many edi- tions went off', that Churchill found himself richer than any poet whose estate lay at that time on Parnas- sus. VOLTAIRE AND I'OPE. Voltaire, when in London, was very intimate with Pope: he was familiar at his table, and introdu- ced to the circle of his acquaint- ance. But gratitude and a respect to the laws of hospitality, seemed not to govern the conduct of Vol- taire. One day when he knew Pope was from home, he called on his ancient mother, who lived with him, and told her that he should be very sorry to do anything to displease her, but really it was very hard living in London ; that he had a poem, a severe lampoon upon her, which he was going to publish, but which he would re- commend her to give him a sum of money to suppress. The fear of the poor old woman at length prevailed over her in- dignation, and she bribed him not to publish, which he agreed to, on one condition-that she would nev- er mention the subject. She promised, and she kept her word. Having so well succeeded once, he made a second attempt on the yielding prey. The indignation of the injured lady was at its height, when Pope entered the room, and, perceiving her agita- tion, insisted on knowing the cause. She informed him in half-stifled accents. Voltaire had neither time to run oft' or make up an excuse, when the enraged poet, who was never deficient in filial respect, flew with resentment on the un- feeling Frenchman, striking him vehemently. Voltaire, in the at- BLACKLOCK AND DAVID HUME. Blacklock, the poet, certainly much better known for his blind- ness than for his genius, happened to call upon Hume, the historian, one day, and began a long disser- tation on his misery, bewailing his loss of sight, his large family of children, and his utter incapaci- ty to provide for them, or even to supply them, at that moment, with the necessaries of life. Hume himself was, at that pe- riod, so little a favorite of fortune, from the smallness of his paternal estate, and the scantiness of his collegiate stipend, being then a member of the university, that he had solicited, and just then re- ceived, through the strenuous in- terest of a friend, a university appointment worth about forty pounds per annum. The heart of the philosopher, however, was softened by the com- plaint of his friend; and being destitute of the pecuniary means of immediate assistance, he ran to his desk, took out the newly re- ceived grant, and presented it to the unhappy poet, with a promise, which he faithfully performed, of using his best interest to have the name of Hume changed for that of Blacklock. In this generous attempt he was finally successful, and, by his noble philanthropy, had the pleasure of saving his friend and family from starvation. POETRY AND POETS. 185 tempt to retreat precipitately, fell over a chair. Apollon aux gages diun librarie, and he declared that he had in- serted only these verses,- " Je sois qu'um noble esprit peut sans honte et sans crime Tirer de son travail un tribut legitime," to console Racine, "who had re- ceived some profits from the print- ing of his tragedies. These profits were, however, inconsiderable: the truth is, the king remunerated the poets. Racine's first royal mark of favor was an order signed by Col- bert for six hundred livres, to give him the means of continuing his studies for the belles-lettres. He received, by an account found among his papers, above forty thousand livres from the cassette of the king, by the hand of the first valet-de-chambre. Besides these gifts, Racine had a pension of four thousand livres, as histori- ographer, and another pension as a man of letters. CAMOENS. When Camoens published his poem of the Lusiad, King Sebas- tian was so pleased with it, that he gave the author a pension of four thousand reals, on condition that he should reside at court; but this salary was withdrawn by Cardinal Henry, who succeed- ed to the throne of Portugal, which Sebastian had lost at the battle of Alcazar. The bard of the Tagus was utterly neglected by Henry, under whose inglorious reign it was that he perished in poverty. Camoens had a black servant who was grown old with him, and who had long experienced his master's humanity. This grateful Indian, who was a native of Java, is said by some writers to have saved the life of his master in that unhappy shipwreck by which he lost all his property, except his poems, which he preserved. When Camoens became so reduced as no longer to maintain his servant, this faithful creature begged in the streets of Lisbon for the only man in Portugal on whom God had bestowed those talents which have a tendency to erect the spirit of a sinking age. butler's pride. It is said that Butler, the cele brated author of Hudibras, was equally remarkable for poverty and pride. A friend of his one evening invited him to supper, and contrived to place in his pock- et a purse containing one hundred guineas. This was found by the poet the following morning, and, feeling uneasy, he ascertained by whom it was given, and then re- turned it, expressing his warm displeasure at the, insult which had been thus offered him. BOILEAU AND RACINE. Boileau and Racine derived lit- tle or no profit from the booksel- lers. Boileau particularly, though fond of money, was so delicate on this point, that he gave all his works away. It was this that made him so bold in railing at those authors qui mettent leur DR. WATTS AND MRS. ROWE. Dr. Watts, whose passion for the justly celebrated Mrs. Rowe, 186 POETRY AND POETS. then Miss Singer, is well known, having called one winter morning upon that lady, and perceiving that the fire and the conversation were getting dull, took up the poker, and putting it in the fire, said, " Allow me, madam, to raise a flame." Bonaparte were most severely condemned, on being called upon for a toast, Campbell gave, 'The health of Napoleon.' This caused great surprise to all the company, and an explanation was called for. " The only reason I have for proposing to honor Bonaparte," said he, " is, that he had the virtue to shoot a bookseller." Palm, a bookseller, had recently been ex- ecuted in Germany, by order of the French chief. LITERARY CAUTIOUSNESS. Pope published nothing until it had been a year or two before him, and even then the printer's proofs were very full of alterations; and, on one occasion, Dodsley, his pub- lisher, thought it better to have the whole recomposed than make the necessary corrections. Goldsmith considered four lines a-day good work, and was seven years in beating out the pure gold of the Deserted Village. milton's sonnets. A lady having expressed her wonder to Dr. Johnson, that "Mil- ton, who had written so sublime a poem as the Paradise Lost, should have been so inferior to himself in the composition of the Sonnets," he replied, " Is it a matter of surprise, madam, that the hand which was able to scoop a colos- sus, of the most perfect symmetry, from a rock, should fail in an at- tempt to form the head of Venus out of a cherry-stone?" Campbell produced the Pleas- ures of Hope at Edinburgh, being then but twenty-one years of age. This fine performance at once gave him fame, and for twenty years afterward brought to the publishers between two and three hundred pounds annually. They had originally given him ten pounds for the poem. After- wards he received some further remuneration, and was allowed the profits accruing from a quarto edition of his works. " Many a true word is spoken in jest," the proverb teaches ; and an anecdote told of Campbell may be thought to indicate a feeling within not very favorable to those who had given his poem to the world. Being in a festive party at a period when the actions of SHOOTING A BOOKSELLER. pope's enemies. According to the scandalous chronicle of the day, Pope, shortly after the publication of the Dun- ciad, had a tall Irishman to attend him. Colonel Duckett threatened to cane him fora licentious stroke aimed at him, which Pope recant- ed. Thomas Bentley, nephew to the doctor, for the treatment his uncle had received, sent Pope a challenge. The modern like the ancient Horace was of a nature liable to panic at such critical moments. Pope consulted some military friends who declared that his person ought to protect him 187 POETRY AND POETS. from any such redundance of valor as was thus formally re- quired ; however, one of them ac- cepted the challenge for him, and gave Bentley the option of fight- ing or apologizing, who, on this occasion, proved what is usual- that the easiest of the two is the quickest performed. twenty, lie is an acknowledged dictator of polite letters. " So early, rapid, untroubled an ascension to fame it would re- quire some research to find a parallel to. Our literature has it not. And this acknowledgment, gratulation, triumph, which friends and circles, and the confined lite- rary world of that day in this country, could furnish, a whole age, and a whole country, and a whole world, the extended republic of letters, confirm. "At the age of thirty-seveh, Pope declares that henceforward he will write from, as well as to, his own mind. The Essay on Man follows. It expresses that graver study of the universal subject, man, which appeared to Pope, now self-known, to be, for the time of poetical literature to which he came, the most practicable- for his own ability the aptest; and it embodies that part of anthro- pology which doubtless was the most congenial to his own inclina- tion-the philosophical contem- plation of man's nature, estate, destiny. " The success of this enterprise ■was astonishing. Be the philos- ophy what and whose it may, the poem revived to the latest age of poetry the phenomenon of the first, when precept and maxim were modulated into verse, that they might write themselves in every brain, and live upon every tongue." Goldsmith was astonished when the bookseller gave him five shil- lings a couplet for his delightful poem of the Deserted Village, when each line was fairly worth as many pounds; but an instance of liberality has occurred in Rus- sia, which really deserves record- ing. Alexander Paselikin, a young poet, has recently produced a work, which does not contain above six hundred lines, and for which he has received three thou- sand rubles, nearly one pound ster- ling per line. REWARDS. pope's early popularity. " A remarkable fact," says Pro- fessor Wilson, ''is the early ac- knowledgment of Pope by his cotemporaries. At sixteen he is a poet for the world by his Pas- torals, and at that age he has a literary adviser in Walsh, and a literary patron in Trumbull. lie does not seem to court. He is courted. lie is the intimate friend, we do not know how soon, of scholars and polite writers, of men and women high in birth, in education, in station. Scarce twenty, by his Essay on Criti- cism, he assumes a chair in the school of the Muses. At live-and- We know of nothing which, in few words, gives more informa- HENRY W. LONGFELLOW. 188 POETRY AND POETS. tion concerning this distinguished American poet than the following anecdote: "About the year 1837, Long- fellow," says a Dublin paper, "being engaged in making the tour of Europe, selected Heidel- berg for a permanent winter resi- dence. There his wife was at- tacked with an illness which ulti- mately proved fatal. " It so happened, however, that some time afterward there came to the same romantic place a young lady of considerable per- sonal attractions. The poet's heart was touched-he became attached to her; but the beauty of sixteen did not sympathize with the poet of six-and-thirty, and Longfellow returned to Amer- ica, having lost his heart as well as his wife. " The young lady, also an American, returned home shortly afterwards. Their residences, it turned out, were contiguous, and the poet availed himself of the opportunity of prosecuting his ad- dresses, which he did for a con- siderable time with no better suc- cess than at first. Thus foiled, he set himself resolutely down, and instead, like Petrarch, of lay- ing siege to the heart of his mis- tress through the medium of son- nets, he resolved to write a whole book; a book which would achieve the double object of gaining her affections, and of establishing his own fame. Hyperion was the result. " His labor and his constancy were not thrown away: they met their due reward. The lady gave him her hand as well as her heart; and they now reside together at Cambridge, in the same house which Washington made his head- quarters when he was first ap- pointed to the command of the American armies. These inter- esting facts ■were communicated to us by a very intelligent Amer- ican gentleman, whom we had the pleasure of meeting in the same place which was the scene of the poet's early disappointment and sorrow." ADDISON AND THE POETASTER. Addison, the sublime moralist, elegant critic, and humorous de- scriber of men and manners, whose works furnish instruction to youth, amusement to age, and delight to all who peruse them, was remark- able for his taciturnity. Conscious of his talents as a writer, he ac- knowledged his deficiency in con- versation. " I can draw," said he, " a bill for a thousand pounds, although I have not a guinea in my pocket." A poetaster brought Addison one of his compositions, and begged his opinion of it. It was a copy of very indifferent verses, and they appeared the worse be- cause he had prefixed to them several lines from Homer, and thus exposed them to a very dis- advantageous contrast. Addison, with great warmth, struck out the lines from Homer; and when the surprised poetaster asked the reason, " Do you not recollect," said Addison, " the Roman em- peror, whose statues appeared to him very ridiculous when they were placed near those of the gods ?" POETRY AND POETS. 189 MILTON AND JAMES II. we rode along the valley, we saw a herd of asses on the top of one of the mountains-how they viewed and reviewed us.'" James II, when Duke of York, made a visit to Milton, out of curiosity. In the course of their conversation, the duke said to the poet, that he thought his blindness was a judgment of heaven on him, because he had written against Charles I, his (the duke's) father, when the immortal poet replied, " If your highness thinks that misfortunes are indexes of the wrath of heaven, what must you think of your father's tragical end? I have only lost my eyes-he lost his head." a robber's remorse. Somebody once robbed the poet Montgomery of an inkstand, pre- sented to him by the ladies of Sheffield. The public execration was so loud, that the thief re- stored the booty, with the follow- ing note: " Birmingham, March, 1812." " Honored Sir: When we rob- bed your house we did not know that you wrote such beautiful verses as you do. I remember my mother told some of them to me when I was a boy. I found what house we robbed by the writing on the inkstand. Honored sir, I send it back. It was my share of the booty, and I hope you and God will forgive me." POE THE AMERICAN POET. Edgar A. Poe, whose genius even those who most dislike his wild extravagances and psycho- logical transcendentalism will at once acknowledge, thus vents his bitterest sarcasm upon the North American Review: " I cannot say that I ever fairly comprehended the force of the term ' insult,' until I was given to understand, one day, by a member of the North American Review clique, that this journal was ' not only willing, but anxious, to ren- der me that justice which had been already rendered me by the Revue Francaise and the Revue des Deux Mondes,' but was ' re- strained from so doing by my invincible spirit of antagonism.' I wish the North American Review to express no opinion of me what- ever-for I have none of it. In the meantime, as I see no motto on its title-page, let me recom- mend it one from Sterne's Letter from France. Here it is: 'As goldsmith's "deserted vil- lage." "The Deserted Village" says Mr. Best, an Irish clergyman, "relates to the scenes in which Goldsmith was an actor. Auburn is a poetical name for the vil- lage of Lissoy, in the county of Westmeath, barony of Kilkenny West. The name of the school- master was Paddy Burns. I remember him well. He was, indeed, a man severe to view. A woman called Walsey Cruse kept the alehouse. ' Imagination fondly stoops to trace The parlor splendors of that festive place.' I have been often in the house. The hawthorn bush was remark- 190 POETRY AND POETS. ably large, and stood opposite the alehouse. " 1 was once riding with Brady, titular Bishop of Ardagh, when he observed to me, ' Ma foy 1 Best, this huge overgrown bush is mightily in the way; I will order it to be cut down.' 'What, sir!' said I, 'cut down Goldsmith's hawthorn bush, that supplies so beautiful an image in the Deserted Village V 'Ma foy!' exclaimed the bishop, ' is that the hawthorn bush ? Then ever let it be sacred from the edge of the axe, and evil to him that would cut from it a branch.' " " was indeed singular. Going down the Strand in one of his day- dreams, fancying himself swim- ming the Hellespont, thrusting his hands before him as in the act of swimming, one hand came in con- tact with a gentleman's pocket. The gentleman seized his hand: turning round, he looked at him with some anger, exclaiming, ' What, so young, and so wicked ! ' at the same time accusing him of an attempt to pick his pocket. " The frightened boy sobbed out his denial of the intention, and explained to him how he thought himself Leander trying to swim the Hellespont. " The gentleman was so struck and delighted with the novelty of the thing, and with the simplicity and intelligence of the boy, that he subscribed, as before stated, to the library; in consequence of which, Coleridge was further en- abled to indulge his love of read- ing. It is stated that at this school he laid the foundation of those bodily sufferings, which made his life one of sickness and torture, and occasioned his melan- choly resort to opium. He greatly injured his health, it is said, and reduced his strength, by his bath- ing excursions ; but is it not quite as likely that the deficiency of food, and those holidays when he was turned out to starvation, had quite as much to do with it?' TIT FOR TAT. Campbell, the poet, and Turner, the artist, were dining together with a large party, a few years ago. The poet was called upon for a toast, and, by way of a joke upon the great professor of the sister art, gave, " The painters and glaziers." After the laughter had subsided, the artist was of course summoned to propose a toast also. He rose, and, with admirable tact and ready wit, dis- charged the debt of his craft to the author of the Pleasures of Hope, by giving the Paper- stainers." " From eight to fourteen I was a playless dreamer," he observes, " a helluo librorum, my appetite for which was indulged by a sin- gular incident: a stranger, who was struck by my conversation, made me free of a circulating li- brary in King street, Cheapside." "This incident," says Gilman, Coleridge's youth. Coleridge's opium-eating. One of the most melancholy facts in the history of Coleridge is his indulgence in the use of opium. It had been continued for a long time, and had begun to 191 weaken and obscure his vigorous and brilliant intellect before his friend Cottle became aware that he used it. In 1814, Cottle wrote to him a very faithful letter, full of dis- suasives against the habit; and in Coleridge's reply occur the fol- lowing affecting paragraphs: " For ten years the anguish of my spirit has been indescribable, the sense of my danger staring, but the consciousness of my guilt worse-far worse than all. I have prayed, with drops of agony on my brow ; trembling, not only be- fore the justice of my Maker, but even before the mercy of my Re- deemer. 'I gave thee so many talents ; what hast thou done with them ?' " Secondly, overwhelmed as I am with a sense of my direful in- firmity, I have never attempted to disguise or conceal the cause. On the contrary, not oidy to friends have I stated the whole case with tears, and the very bitterness of shame, but in two instances I have warned young men, mere acquaintances, who had spoken of taking laudanum, of the direful consequences, by an awful exposi- tion of its tremendous effects on myself. "Thirdly, though before God I cannot lift up my eyelids, and only do not despaii* of his mercy, because to despair would be adding crime to crime, yet to my fellow men I may say, that I was seduced into the accursed habit ignorantly. I had been almost bedridden for many months, with swellings in my knees. In a medical journal, I unhappily met with an account POETRY AND POETS. of a cure performed in a similar case, or what appeared to me so, by rubbing in laudanum, at the same time taking a given dose in- ternally. It acted like a charm- like a miracle ! I recovered the use of my limbs, of my appetite, of my spirits, and this continued for near a fortnight. At length the unusual stimulus subsided, the complaint returned, the supposed remedy was recurred to; but I cannot go through the dreary his- tory. " Suffice it to say, that effects were produced which acted on me by terror and cowardice, of pain and sudden death, not-so help me God-by any temptation of pleasure, or expectation or desire of exciting pleasurable sensations. On the very contrary, Mrs. Mor- gan and her sister will bear wit- ness so far as to say that the longer I abstained, the higher my spirits, the keener my enjoyments, till the moment, the direful mo- ment arrived, when my pulse be- gan to fluctuate, my heart to palpi- tate, and such falling down, as it were, of my whole frame, such intolerable restlessness, and inci- pient bewilderment, that in the last of my several attempts to abandon the dire poison, I ex- claimed in agony, which I now repeat in seriousness and solemni- ty, ' I am too poor to hazard this.' Had I but a few hundred pounds, -but two hundred pounds,-half to send Mrs. Coleridge, and half to place myself in a private mad- house, where I could procure noth- ing but what a physician thought proper, and where a medical at- tendant could be constantly with 192 POETRY AND POETS. me for two or three months (in less than that time life or death would be determined), then there might be hope. Now there is none ! You bid me rouse myself: go bid a man, paralytic in both arms, to rub them briskly together, and that will cure him. 'Alas!' he would reply, ' that I cannot move my arms is my complaint and my misery.' " Writing to another friend, a short time after, he says: " Con- ceive a poor, miserable wretch, who for many years has been at- tempting to beat off pain by a constant recurrence to the vice that reproduces it. Conceive a spirit in hell, employed in tracing out for others the road to that heaven from which his crimes exclude him. In short, conceive whatever is most wretched, help- less, and hopeless, and you will form as tolerable a notion of my state as it is possible for a good man to have. I used to think the text in St. James, that ' he who offends in one point offends in all,' very harsh; but I now feel the awful, the tremendous truth of it. In the one crime of opium, what crime have I not made my- self guilty of! Ingratitude to my Maker, and to my benefactors in- justice, and unnatural cruelty to my poor children, self-contempt for my repeated promise, breach, nay, too often, actual falsehood." It is interesting to know that Coleridge afterwards broke away from this dreadful habit, and that his life was lengthened out some twenty years longer. BARON HALLER. Poets change their opinions of their own productions wonder- fully at different periods of life. Baron Haller was in his youth warmly attached to poetic com- position. His house was on fire, and to rescue his poems, he rushed through the flames. He was so fortunate as to escape with his beloved manuscripts in his hands. Ten years afterwards, he con- demned to the flames those very poems which he had ventured his life to preserve. POPULARITY OF POETS. When Lord Byron was pre- sented with an American edition of Childe Harold, he exclaimed, "This, now, is something like im- mortality." We are reminded of his remark by meeting in the Mexican cor- respondence of the Boston Atlas with this statement: " At Puebla I found in a convent a volume of Lalla Rookh, and another of the Lady of the Lake. On the battle- field of Contreras I picked up a volume of Burns's poems." VALUE OF A MANUSCRIPT. The original manuscript of Gray's Elegy was lately sold by auction in London. There was really quite "a scene" in the auc- tion room. Imagine a stranger entering in the midst of a sale of some rusty-looking old books. The auctioneer produces two small half-sheets of paper, written over, torn, and mutilated. He calls it POETRY AND POETS. 193 a "most interesting article," and apologizes for its condition. Pick- ering bids ten pounds! Rodd, Foss, Thorpe, Bohn, Holloway, and some few amateurs, quietly remark, twelve, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, thirty, and so on, till there is a pause at sixty-three jjounds! The hammer strikes. "Hold!" says Mr. Foss. "It is mine," says the amateur. " No, I bid sixty-five in time." "Then I give seventy." " Seventy-five," says Mr. Foss; and fives are re- peated again until the two bits of paper are knocked down, amidst a general cheer, to Payne and Foss, for one hundred pounds ster- ling ! On these bits of paper are written the first draught of the Elegy in a Country Churchyard, by Thomas Gray, including five verses which were omitted in publication, and with the poet's interlinear corrections and alter- ations-certainly an " interesting articleseveral persons supposed it would call for a ten pound note, perhaps even twenty. A single volume with "W. Shakspere," in the fly-leaf, produced, sixty years ago, a hundred guineas; but, probably, with that exception, no mere autograph, and no single sheet of paper, ever before pro- duced the sum of five hundred dollars 1 mediately granted, and at the end of the third lecture it was formally announced to the audience that the next lecture would be delivered by Mr. Samuel Taylor Coleridge, of Jesus College, Cambridge. At the usual hour the room was thronged. The moment of commencement arrived. No lec- turer appeared. Patience was preserved for a quarter of an hour or more; but still no lec- turer. At length it was com- municated to the impatient as- semblage, that a circumstance exceedingly to be regretted would prevent Mr. Coleridge from giv- ing his lecture that evening, as intended. Some few present learned the truth, but the major part of the company retired not very well pleased, and under the impression that Mr. Coleridge had either broken his leg, or that some severe family affliction had occurred. Mr. Coleridge's rather habitual absence of mind, with the little importance he generally attached to engagements, renders it likely that at this very time he might have been found at T , Col- lege street, composedly smoking his pipe, and lost in profound musings on his divine Susque- hanna. An eminent medical man in Bristol, who greatly admired Mr. Coleridge's conversation and ge- nius, on one occasion invited Mr. C. to dine with him on a given day. The invitation was accepted, and this gentleman, willing to gratify his friends with an intro- duction to Mr. Coleridge, invited a large assembly for the express coleridge's absence of mind. Mr. Coleridge had solicited permission of Mr. Southey to de- liver his fourth lecture on the Rise, Progress, and Decline of the Roman Empire, as a subject to which he had devoted especial attention. The request was im- 194 POETRY AND POETS. purpose of meeting him, and made a splendid entertainment, antici- pating the delight which would be universally felt from Mr. Cole- ridge's far-famed eloquence. It unfortunately happened that Mr. Coleridge had forgotten all about it; and the gentleman, with his guests, after waiting till the hot became cold, under his morti- fication consoled himself by the resolve never again to subject himself to the like disaster. No explanation or apology from Mr. Coleridge's friends could soothe the choler of this disciple of Galen. A dozen subscribers to his lec- tures fell off from this slip of his memory. It is easy enough to extem- porize in Italian. One only won- ders how, in a language in which everything conspires to render verse-making easy, and it is diffi- cult to avoid rhyming, this talent should be so much cried up. But in English it is another matter. I have known but one other person besides Hook who could extem- porize in English ; and he wanted the confidence to do it in public. Of course, I speak of rhyming. Extempore blank verse, with a little practice, would be found as easy in English, as rhyming in Italian. In Hook the faculty was very unequivocal. He could not have been aware of the character of all the visitors, still less of the subject of conversation w'hen he came in, and he talked his full share till called upon. Yet he ran his jokes and his verses upon us all in the easiest manner, say- ing something characteristic of everybody, or avoiding it with a pun ; and he introduced so agree- ably a piece of village scandal, upon which the party had been rallying Campbell, that the poet, though not unjealous of his dig- nity, was, perhaps, the most pleas- ed of us all. Theodore afterwards sat dowm to the pianoforte, and enlarging upon this subject made an extem- pore parody of a modern opera, introducing sailors and their clap- traps, rustics, etc., and making the poet and his supposed flame the hero and heroine. He parodied music as well as words, giving us the most received cadences and flourishes, and call- wordsworth's want of smell. Wordsworth had no sense of smell. Once, and once only in his life, the dormant power awak- ened. It was by a bed of stocks in full bloom, at a house which he inhabited in Dorsetshire, and he said it was like a vision of Para- dise to him ; but it lasted only a few moments, and the faculty con- tinued torpid from that time. THEODORE E. HOOK. I remember, one day at Syd- enham, Mr. Theodore Hook com- ing in unexpectedly to dinner, and amusing us very much with his talent at extempore verse. He was then a youth, tall, dark, and of a good person, with small eyes, and features more round than weak; a face that had character and humor, but no refinement. His extempore verses were really surprising. POETRY AND POETS. 195 ing to mind-not without some hazard to his filial duties-the commonplaces of the pastoral songs and duets of the last half century; so that if Mr. Dignum, the Damon of Vauxhall, had been present, he would have doubted whether to take it as an affront or a compliment. Campbell certainly took the theme of the parody as a compli- ment; for having drunk a little more wine than usual that even- ing, and happening to wear a wig on account of having lost his hair by a fever, he suddenly took off the wig, and dashed it at the head of the performer, exclaiming, " You dog 1 I'll throw my laurels at you." house, and, not finding him at home, followed him to the house of a friend, where, being shown into a back room, he desired the doctor might be sent for; and on Swift entering the room, and ask- ing what were his commands, " Sir," said he, " I am Sergeant Bettesworth." " Of what regiment, pray, sir?" said Swift. " O, Mr. Dean, we know your powers of raillery-you know me well enough ; I am one of his ma- jesty's sergeants-at-law, and I am come to demand if you are the au- thor of this poem, [producing it,J and these villainous lines on me." " Sir," said Swift, " when I was a young man, I had the honor of being intimate with some great legal characters, particularly Lord Somers, who, knowingmy propen- sity to satire, advised me, when I lampooned a knave or fool, never to own it. Conformably to that advice, I tell you I am not the author." SWIFT AND MR. SERGEANT BETTESWORTH. The following lines on Sergeant Bettesworth, which Swift inserted in one of his poems, gave rise to a violent resentment on the part of the barrister: " So at the bar the booby Bettesworth, Though half-a-crown o'erpays his sweat's worth, Who knows in law nor text nor margent, Calls Singleton his brother sergeant." The poem was sent to Bettesworth at a time when he was surrounded by his friends in a convivial party. He read it aloud till he had fin- ished the lines relative to himself. He then flung it down with great violence-trembled and turned pale-and after some pause, his rage for a while depriving him of utterance, he took out his pen- knife, and opening it vehemently, swore, " With this very penknife I will cut off his ears." He then went to the dean's ROBERT POLLOK. Robert Pollok, author of the Course of Time, while a student of theology, once delivered a trial discourse before the Secession Di- vinity Hall, Glasgow, the subject of which was Sin. His manner of treating it, in the opinion of his fellow-students, was rather turgid; and at those passages which they considered to be particularly out- rageous, they did not scruple to give audible symptoms of the amusement they derived from Mr. Pollok's highflown phrases. At last one flight was so extravagant that the professor himself was 196 POETRY AND POETS. fairly obliged to give way-and smiled. At this moment the young preacher was just upon the point of a climax expressing the dread- ful evils which sin had brought into the world, and he closed it with the following remark: "And had it not been for sin, the smile of folly had never been seen upon the brows of wisdom." This anecdote is related upon the authority of a person who was present; but it may be remarked that, perhaps, if Mr. Pollok's dis- course had been listened to with that decorum which the gravity of the occasion demanded, it might not, to an unprejudiced author, have seemed deserving of the un- favorable reception it met with. But when the speaker became sensible that his compeers were making merry at his expense, it must have produced in his manner a degree of confusion, or perhaps of vehemence, by which language and ideas, in themselves not inap- propriate, might be rendered ridic- ulous. It is also to be kept in view that Pollok was not popular among his fellow-students: so that they may be supposed to have been on the watch for an oppor- tunity to testify their jealousy of him. his few friends were doubtful whether he was conscious or not of what was going on in his pres- ence, and had recourse to an arti- fice to learn. One of them spoke of the poem of Hohenlinden, and pretending to forget the author's name, said he had heard it was by Mr. Robin- son. Campbell saw the trick, was amused, and said playfully, but in a calm and distinct tone, "No; it was one Tom Campbell." The poet had, as far as a poet can, become for years indifferent to posthumous fame. In 1838, five years before this time, he had been speaking to some friends in Edin- burgh on the subject. " When I think of the existence which shall commence when the stone is laid over my head, how can literary fame appear to me, to any one, but as nothing? I believe, when I am gone, justice will be done to me in this way-that I was a pure writer. It is an inexpressible comfort, at my time of life, to be able to look back and feel that I have not writ- ten one line against religion or virtue." Mr. Coleridge was a remarkably awkward horseman, so much so as generally to attract notice. On a certain occasion he was riding along the turnpike road, in the county of Durham, when a wag, approaching him, noticed his peculiarity, and, quite mistaking his man, thought the rider a fine subject for a little sport; when, as he drew near, he thus accosted Mr. C.: " I say, young man, did you meet a tailor on the road ?" COLERIDGE. DEATH OF CAMPBELL, THE POET. On the 16th he was able to con- verse more freely; but his strength had become more reduced, and be- ing assisted to change his posture, he fell back insensible. Conversa- tion was carried on in the room in whispers; and Campbell uttered a few sentences, so unconnected, that POETRY AND POETS. 197 " Yes," replied Mr. C., who was never at a loss for a rejoinder, " I did; and he told me if I went a little farther I should meet a goose!" The assailant was struck dumb, while the traveler jogged on. pides,Ovid,Petrarke, Ariosto, and others; and partly by invention out of our own fruitefull orchardes in Englande; yielding sundrie sweet savours of tragicall, comical!, and morall discourses, both pleas- aunt and profitable to the well- smelling noses of learned readers." Dr. Hawes bequeathed a great portion of his library to the dean and chapter of Salisbury; and his executor and friend presented the celebrated prayer-book, which was Walton's, to Mr. Pickering, the publisher. The watch which be- longed to Walton's connection, the excellent Bishop Ken, has been presented to his amiable biogra- pher, the Rev. W. Lisle Bowles. Walton died at the house of his son-in-law, Dr. Hawkins, at Win- chester. He was buried in Win- chester Cathedral, in the south aisle, called Prior Silkstead's Cha- pel. A large black marble slab is placed over his remains; and to use the poetical language of Mr. Bowles, "the morning sunshine falls directly on it, reminding the contemplative man of the morn- ings when he was, for so many years, up and abroad with his angle, on the banks of the neigh- boring stream." IZAAK WALTON. THE FIRST POET LAUREATE. The first mention of the king's poet, under the appellation of lau- reate, was John Kay, who was ap- pointed poet laureate to Edward IV. It is extraordinary that he should have left no pieces of poetry to prove his pretensions in some degree to this office, with which he is said to have been invested by the king, at his return from Italy. The only composition he has left to posterity is a prose English translation of a Latin history of the siege of Rhodes. In the dedi- cation, addressed to King Edward, -or rather in the title-he styles himself " hys humble poete lau- reate." Although this our laure- ate furnishes us with no materials as a poet, yet his office, which here occurs for the first time under this denomination, must not pass un- noticed in the annals of literature. CURIOUS TITLE. A writer in an American peri- odical, in 1845, gives the following description of a visit to Samuel Rogers: " Samuel Rogers is an excep- tion to the almost general rule, that authors are poor. And who has not, at some time or other, heard of the author of Pleasures of Mem- ory ? He is not gifted, as Byron was, with beauty of person; so far SAMUEL ROGERS. The title which George Gas- coigne, who had great merit in his day, has given to his collection, may be considered a specimen of the titles of his times. They were printed in 1576. He calls it "A Hundred Sundrie Flowres bounde vp in one small Poesie : gathered partly by translation in the fyne and outlandish gardens of Euri- 198 POETRY AND POETS. from it, he is the- very opposite of ' good looking,' as it is termed; but he is rich-a very Croesus. A Lon- don banker, he can draw checks alike on the Bank of England and on the treasury of the Muses; and, what is better, find each duly hon- ored. He has an exquisite taste, ami possesses abundantly the means of gratifying it. Art lays her tributes at his feet, and Genius is at his beck and call. For him Science labors, and at his bidding Music pours forth its melodious offerings. He possesses the magic talisman money-which, like the slave of the lamp, in the Arabian tale, fulfills all his requirements, and surrounds him with all that heart can wish. Verily, if wealth, taste and refinement can confer happiness on mortals, Samuel Rogers must be a satisfied man. "About six years ago, while on a visit to some friends in London, I spent a day with Coleridge, who then resided with Mr. Gilman, at Highgate. While there, the poet received a note from Mr. Rogers, inviting him to breakfast, in St. James's Place on the following morning. Coleridge, knowing that it would gratify me to accompany him, very kindly asked me to do so, saying that he could take the liberty of introducing a friend, and I agreed to go. " On the following morning, for a wonder, Mr. Coleridge called for me at the time he had appointed, and we proceeded together in a hack carriage to St. James's Place. Mr. Rogers himself received us, and as none of the other invited guests had arrived, I had a favor- able opportunity of observing the venerable poet. " I had anticipated seeing what is termed a plain face, but I had not pictured to myself one so un- poetical as Rogers's. Byron's lines on it, ill-natured and uncalled for as they were, were at least pictori- ally true to nature. There was recently published in the Pictorial Times or London Illustrated Netcs, I forget which, a sketch of him, taken at the National Gallery, in the act of examining a painting. " That likeness is correct in every respect. The sunken eye, shrivelled nose, toothless jaws, and retracted lips, are to the life. But though time has been busy with the poet's mortal part, he has not interfered with the jewel it con- tains. That remains undimmed, and although it emits fewer rays than of yore, its capability of doing so is not destroyed. " The poet is of middle stature, and unbowed by age. Indeed, in his motions he is, to use a common but expressive figure, ' as brisk as a boy.' Nothing on earth is more delightful, I think, than a cheerful, intelligent old man. And such is Samuel Rogers. He, indeed, pos- sesses all ' the pleasures of mem- ory,' and has had the rare good fortune to live and experience what he sang about years and years ago. His conversation was lively and piquant, but did not exhibit any of those sallies of wit which are so often attributed to him in the newspapers, under the head of ' Sam Rogers's last,' etc. To Coleridge's observations he was POETRY AND POETS. 199 profoundly attentive; but the great conversationalist was not in a very talking humor, and I was rather glad of it, as it gave me a better opportunity of using my eyes than I should have had, had his words fallen on my charmed ear. " Mr. Rogers received me very kindly, without any introduction ; for Coleridge, with his usual ab- sence of mind, or rather utter dis- regard of all the minor courtesies and usages of society, neglected to present me to Mr. Rogers, until the latter looked very hard at me, and I reminded Coleridge that he had a companion. " What a magnificent room was that library of Rogers's ! There were paintings from the hands of the best ancient and modern mas- ters, in gorgeous frames; portfolios of the choicest and rarest prints ; water-color drawings, by every artist of celebrity of past and pres- ent times; rare specimens of vertu, which would have thrown the pro- prietor of Strawberry Hill into a very flutter of excitement; busts, some brown with age, and others in all the brilliant modern white- ness of Carrara marble; costly gems and princely intaglios; books curious in their old literal board covers, with ancient silver clasps and venerable letters; manuscripts so precious from time, and in con- sequence of the labor which had been bestowed on them by gray monks, in solemn old cells, ages since, that they were shrined in crystal cases. " There was a large piece of amber in which was a fly inclosed, perfect and unmutilated, leaving us to wonder how it got there, and achieved its transparent immor- tality. Sydney Smith, once taking it up, said, ' Perhaps it buzzed in Adam's ear.' And there were vases of exquisite form and work- manship-relics from Pompeii and from far away Ind; and all so taste- fully disposed that no museum ef- fect was produced, nor did any one object obtrude itself so as to detract from the apparent value of the impression produced by another. " On a pedestal was a bust of Pope, modeled, at least so far as a part of the drapery was con- cerned, by the artist (Roubilliac, I believe) in the presence of Mr. Rogers. But there were two ob- jects in the room which, more than any others, engrossed my attention -the one represented the enor- mous wealth of its possessor, and the other indicated his keen ap- preciation of the value of mind. " These articles were simply two small pieces of paper, in gold frames. One of them was a Bank of England note for one million pounds sterling, and the other the original receipt of John Milton, for five pounds (the sum he re- ceived for the copyright of Par- adise Lost, from Simmonds, the bookseller. The bank note was one of the only four which were ever struck from a plate, which was af- terwards destroyed. The Roths- childs have one impression ; the late Mr. Coutts had another ; the Bank of England the third ; and, as I have said, Mr. Rogers deco- rates his parlor with the remain- ing one. " There it hangs within any one's reach; a fortune for many, 200 POETRY AND POETS. but valueless to all except its owner. No one would think of stealing it, because it would be only as so much waste paper. It never could be negotiated without detection, and were it destroyed by fire, from its peculiar charac- ter, no loss would ensue to Mr. Rogers. At his word, however, it might be transformed into a golden shower. He, alone, is the magician who can render it all- powerful for good or evil." ed nothing unless it was as clear as the three sides of a triangle." And then he and Keats agreed he had destroyed all the poetry of the rainbow, by reducing it to the prismatic colors. It was impossi- ble to resist him, and we all drank, " Newton's health, and confusion to mathematics." It was delightful to see the good hu- mor of Wordsworth in giving in to all our frolics without affecta- tion, and laughing as heartily as the best of us. By this time other friends joined, amongst them poor Ritchie, who was going to penetrate by Fezzan, to Timbuc- too. I introduced him as "A gen- tleman going to Africa." Lamb seemed to take no notice ; but all of a sudden, he roared out, "Which is the gentleman we are going to lose ?" We then drank the victim's health, in which Ritchie joined. In the morning of this delightful day a gentleman, a perfect stranger, had called on me. He said he knew my friends, had an enthusiasm for Words- worth, and begged I would pro- cure him the happiness of an in- troduction. He told me he was a comptroller of stamps, and of- ten had correspondence with the poet. I thought it a lib- erty ; but still, as he seemed a gentleman, I told him he might come. When we retired to tea we found the comptroller. In in- troducing him to Wordsworth, I forgot to say who he was. After a little time, the comptroller look- ed down, looked up, and said to Wordsworth, " Don't you think, sir, Milton was a great genius?" Keats looked at me, Wordsworth CHARLES LAMB AND THE COMP- TROLLER OF STAMPS. On December 28th the immor- tal dinner came off in ray paint- ing room, with Jerusalem tower- ing up behind us as a background. Wordsworth was in fine cue, and we had a glorious set-to on Ho- mer, Shakspeare, Milton and Vir- gil. Lamb got exceedingly mer- ry and exquisitely witty, and his fun in the midst of Wordsworth's solemn intonations of oratory was like the sarcasm and wit of the fool in the intervals of Lear's pas- sion. Lamb soon got delightfully merry. He made a speech and voted me absent, and made them drink my health. " Now," said Lamb, " you old lake poet, you rascally poet, why do you call Voltaire dull ?" We all defended Wordsworth, and affirmed there was a state of mind when Vol- taire would be dull. " Well," said Lamb, " here's Voltaire, the Messiah of the French nation, and a very proper one too." He then, in a strain of humor beyond de- scription, abused me for putting Newton's head into my picture. " A fellow," said he, " who believ- POETRY AND POETS. 201 looked at the comptroller. Lamb, who was dozing by the fire, turn- ed around and said, " Pray, sir, did you say Milton was a great genius?" "No, sir, I asked Mr. Wordsworth if he were not." " O !" said Lamb, " then you are a sil- ly fellow." " Charles, my dear Charles," said Wordsworth ; but Lamb, perfectly innocent of the confusion he had created, was off again by the fire. After an aw- ful pause, the comptroller said, " Dont you think Newton a great genius?" I could not stand it any longer. Keats put his head into my books. Ritchie squeezed in a laugh. Wordsworth seemed asking himself, "Who is this?" Lamb got up, and taking a can- dle, said, " Sir, will you allow me to look at your phrenological devel- opment?" He then turned his back on the poor man, and at every question of the comptroller, he chaunted : " Diddle diddle dumpling, my son John Went to bed with his breeches on." The man in office, finding Wordsworth did not know who he was, said, in a spasmodic and half-chuckling anticipation of as- sured victory, "I have had the honor of some correspondence with you, Mr. Wordsworth." " With me, sir ?" said Words- worth ; " not that I remember." " Don't you, sir ? I am a comp- troller of stamps." There was a dead silence ; the comptroller evi- dently thinking that was enough. While we were waiting for Words- worth's reply, Lamb sung out: " Hey diddle diddle, The cat and the fiddle." " My dear Charles," said Words- worth. *' Diddle diddle dumpling, my son John," chaunted Lamb; and then, rising, exclaimed, " Do let me have an- other look at that gentleman's or- gans!" Keats and I hurried Lamb into the painting-room, shut the door, and gave way to inextinguishable laughter. Monk- house followed and tried to get Lamb away. We went back, but the comptroller was irreconcilable. We soothed and smiled, and ask- ed him to supper. He stayed, though his dignity was sorely af- fected. However, being a good- natured man, we parted all in good humor, and no ill effects followed. All the while, until Monkhouse succeeded, we could hear Lamb struggling in the painting-room, and calling at intervals, " Who is that fellow ? Allow me to see his organs once more."-Az/e of Benjamin R. Haydon. LEIGH hunt's DESCRIPTION OF CAMPBELL. " They who knew Mr. Camp- bell," says Leigh Hunt, " only as the author of Gertrude of Wyom- ing and the Pleasures of Hope, would not have suspected him to be a merry companion, overflow- ing with humor and anecdote, and anything but fastidious. " The Scotch poets have al- ways something in reserve. It is the only point in which the major part of them resemble their coun- trymen. He was one of the few men whom I could at any time have walked half-a-dozen miles 202 POETRY AND POETS. through the snow, to spend an evening with. " No man felt more kindly to- wards his fellow-creatures, or took less credit for it. When he in- dulged in doubt and sarcasm, and spoke contemptuously of things in general, he did it partly, no doubt, out of actual dissatisfaction, but more, perhaps, than he suspected out of a fear of being thought weak and sensitive; which is a blind that the best men very commonly practice. " When I first saw this eminent person, he gave me the idea of a French Virgil. I found him as handsome as the Abbe Delille is said to have been ugly. But he seemed to me to embody a French- man's ideal notion of the Latin poet; something a little more cut and dry than I had looked for; compact and elegant, critical and acute, with a consciousness of au- thorship upon him ; a taste over- anxious not to commit itself, and refining and diminishing nature as in a drawing-room mirror. " This fancy was strengthened, in the course of conversation, by his expatiating on the greatness of Racine. I think he had a vol- ume of the French poet in his hand. " His skull was sharply cut and fine, with a full share, according to the phrenologists, both of the reflective and amative organs; and his poetry will beai- them out. His face and person were rather on a small scale ; his features reg- ular ; his eye lively and penetra- ting ; and when he spoke, dimples played about his mouth ; which, nevertheless, had something rc- strained and close in it. Some gentle Puritan seemed to have crossed the breed, and to have left a stamp on his face, such as we often see in the female Scotch face, rather than the male." " GERTRUDE OF WYOMING." Some fourteen or fifteen years after the publication of Gertrude, Campbell found himself engaged in a correspondence with the son of Brandt, the Indian chief, who was represented by the poet as the leader of a savage party, whose ferocity gave to war more than its own horrors. Campbell had abused him, almost in the lan- guage of an American newspaper: " The mammoth comes, the foe, the monster Brandt, With all his howling, desolating band." It was rather a serious moment when a gentleman with an Eng- lish name, called on Campbell, demanding, on the part of the son of Brandt, some explanation of this language, as applied to his father. A long letter from Camp- bell is printed in Stone's Life of Brandt, addressed to the Mohawk chief Ahyonwalgs, commonly call- ed John Brandt, Esq., of the Grand River, Upper Canada, in which he states the various authorities which had misled him into the belief of the truth of the incidents on which his notion of Brandt's character was founded, and which, it seems, misrepresented it alto- gether. It was, no doubt, a strange scene, and the poet could with some truth say, and with some pride, too, that when he wrote his poem, it was unlikely that he 203 POETRY AND POETS. should ever have contemplated the case of the son or daughter of an Indian chief being affected by its contents. He promises, in fu- ture editions, to correct the invol- untary error, and he does so, by saying, in a note, that the Brandt of the poem is a pure and declar- ed character of fiction. This does not satisfy Mr. Stone's sense of justice, who would have the tomahawk applied to the of- fending rhyme, and who thinks anything less than this is a repe- tition of the offense. LEIGH hunt's DESCRIPTION OF THOMAS MOORE. 11 Moore's forehead," says Leigh Hunt, " was bony and full of char- acter, with ' bumps' of wit, large and radiant enough to transport a phrenologist. In this particular he strongly resembled Sterne. His eyes were as dark and fine as you would wish to see under a set of vine-leaves ; his mouth generous and good-humored, with dimples ; and his manner as bright as his talk, full of the wish to please and be pleased. He sang and played with great taste on the pianoforte, as might be supposed from his musical compositions. His voice, which was a little hoarse in speak- ing-at least I used to think so, -softened into a breath, like that of the flute, when singing. " In speaking he was emphatic in rolling the letter r, perhaps out of a despair of being able to get rid of the national peculiarity. The structure of his versification, when I knew him, was more arti- ficial than it was afterwards ; and in his serious compositions it suit- ed him better. He had hardly faith enough to give way to his impulses in writing, except when they were festive and witty; and artificial thoughts demand a simi- lar embodiment. Both patriotism and personal experience, however, occasionally inspired him with lyric pathos; and in his naturally musical perception of the right principles of versification, he con- templated the fine, easy playing, muscular style of Dryden, with a sort of perilous pleasure. I re- member his quoting, with delight, We hear much about " poetic inspiration," and the " poet's eye in a fine frenzy rollingbut Sir Joshua Reynolds gives an anec- dote of Goldsmith, while engaged upon his poem, calculated to cure our notions about the ardor of composition. Calling upon the poet one day, he opened the door without cere- mony, and found him in the dou- ble occupation of turning a coup- let and teaching a pet dog to sit upon his haunches. At one time he would glance his eye at his desk, and at another shake his finger at the dog to make him re- tain his position. The last lines on the page were still wet; they form a part of the description of Italy: " By sports like these are all their cares be- guiled ; The sports of children satisfy the child." Goldsmith, with his usual good humor, joined in the laugh caused by his whimsical employment, and acknowledged that his boyish sport with the dog suggested the stanza. POETIC INSPIRATION. 204 POETRY AND POETS. a couplet of Dryden's, which came with a peculiar grace out of his mouth: 1 Let honor and preferment go for gold ; But glorious beauty isn't to be sold.' Besides the pleasure I took in Moore's society as a man of wit, I had a great esteem for him as a man of candor and independence. His letters were full of all that was pleasant in him. As I was a critic at that time, and in the habit of giving my opinion of his works in the Examiner, he would write me his opinion of the opinion, with a mixture of good humor, admission, and deprecation, so truly delightful, and a sincerity of criticism on my own writings, so extraordinary for so courteous a man, though with abundance of balm and eulogy, that never any subtlety of compliment could sur- pass it." life ; it touched all things, but, like a sunbeam, touched them with a golden finger. "Any thing abstract or scientific was unintelligible or distasteful to her. Her knowledge was exten- sive and various ; but, true to the first principle of her nature, it was poetry that she sought in history, scenery, character, and religious belief-poetry that guided all her studies, governed all her thoughts, colored all her imaginative con- versation. Her nature was at once simple and profound; there was no room in her mind for phi- losophy, nor in her heart for am- bition. The one was filled by im- agination, the other engrossed by tenderness. " She had a passive temper, but decided tastes ; any one might in- fluence, but very few impressed her. Her strength and her weak- ness lay alike in her affections : these would sometimes make her weep, at others imbue her with courage; so that she was, altern- ately, ' a falcon-hearted dove,' and a 'reed broken with the wind.' Her voice was a sweet, sad melody, and her spirits reminded me of an old poet's description of the orange-tree, with its ' Golden lamps, hid in a night of green,' or of those Spanish gardens where the pomegranate blossoms beside the cypress. Her gladness was like a burst of sunlight; and if in her sadness she resembled night, it was night wearing her stars. I might describe and describe for- ever, but I should never succeed in portraying Egeria. She was a Muse, a Grace, a variable child, a miss Jewsbury's description OF MRS. HEMANS. In the following passage from Miss Jewsbury's Three Histories, she avowedly describes Mrs. He- mans : " Egeria was totally different from any other woman I had ever seen, either in Italy or in England. She did not dazzle; she subdued me. Other women might be more commanding, more versatile, more acute, but I never saw any one so exquisitely feminine Her birth, her education, but above all, the genius with which she was gifted, combined to inspire a pas- sion for the ethereal, the tender, the imaginative, the heroic, in one word the beautiful. It was in her a faculty divine, and yet of daily POETRY AND POETS. 205 dependent woman, the Italy of human beings." inclined to the same folly by na- ture, I believe I should bind him from it by the strictest conjura- tions of a parental blessing. For what can be more ridiculous than to labor to give men delight, whilst they labor, on their part, most earnestly, to take offense ?" And thus he closes the preface, in all the solemn expression of in- jured feelings : " This I do affirm, that from all which I have written, I never received the least benefit or the least advantage, but, on the con- trary, have felt sometimes the ef- fects of malice and misfortune" COWLEY AND HIS MISFORTUNES. Cowley, in an ode, had com- memorated the genius of Brutus, with all the enthusiasm of a votary of liberty. After the king's re- turn, when Cowley solicited some reward for his sufferings and ser- vices in the royal cause, the chan- cellor is said to have turned on him with a severe countenance, saying, "Mr. Cowley, your pardon is your reward." It seems that the ode was then considered to be of a dangerous tendency among half the nation; Brutus would be the model of en- thusiasts, who were sullenly bend- ing their necks under the yoke of royalty. Charles II feared the at- tempt of desperate men ; and he might have forgiven Rochester a loose pasquinade, but not Cowley a solemn invocation. This fact, then, is said to have been the true cause of the despon- dency so prevalent in the latter poetry of " the melancholy Cow- ley." And hence the indiscretion of the Muse, in a single flight, condemned her to a painful, rather than a voluntary solitude, and made the poet complain of " bar- ren praise" and "neglected verse." No wonder, therefore, that he thus expresses himself in the pre- face to his Cutter of Coleman Street: " We are, therefore, wonderfully wise men, and have a fine business of it; we, who spend our time in poetry. I do sometimes laugh, and am often angry with myself, when I think on it; and if I had a son addison's companions. Addison's chief companions, be- fore he married Lady Warwick, in 1716, were Steele, Budgel], Philips, Carey, Davenant, and Colonel Brett. He used to break- fast with one or other of them, at his lodgings in St. James's Place ; dine at taverns with them; then to Button's; and then to some tavern again for supper in the evening: and this was then the usual round of his life. PERCIVAL, THE AMERICAN POET. Dr. Percival is one of the most eccentric men in the world, and one of the most learned. He lived a long time in a garret-literally a garret, after the manner of the old poets-at New Haven, and had very few companions, save his books, cabinets, and herbarium. He reads with fluency ten lan- guages, and is so familiar with the Latin, Greek, French, Spanish, German, and Italian, that he can take a work never before seen by him, in any of those languages, 206 POETRY AND POETS. and read it in English with as much correctness and ease as he would one of his own poems. For several years he was en- gaged in making a geological sur- vey of Connecticut; and his report was laid before the legislature of that state, when a proposal to give the copyright to the author, after a certain number of copies should be printed for the use of the state, was discussed. On this occasion, one of the members said, that "in his examination of our geology, Dr. Percival had been upon one side at least of every square mile in the state, except where river or lake had interrupted his progress. He had walked over every hill, plain, and morass in Connecticut, with his basket on his arm and his bag on his back ; stopping at the farm-houses at night, and resum- ing his examination at early light." He was engaged in this work for five years, and his salary never exceeded three hundred dollars per annum. The legislature of course adopted the proposal of giving to him the copyright. He is one of the poorest as well as one of the most meritorious, of our authors.-Arvine. sir, not to leave off your coffee ; otherwise you will give us no more Night Thoughts." Tasso's contradictory critics per- plexed him with the most intricate literary discussions, and probably occasioned a mental alienation. We find, in one of his letters, that he repents the composition of his great poem; for although his own taste approved of the marvelous, which still forms the nobler part of its creation, yet he confesses that his critics have decided that the history of his hero, Godfrey, required another species of con- duct." " Hence," cries the un- happy bard, " doubts vex me ; but for the past, and what is done, I know of no remedy;" and he longs to precipitate the publication, that "he may be delivered from misery and agony." He solemnly swears that " did not the circumstances of my situation compel me, I would not print it, even, perhaps, during my life, I so much doubt of its success." Such was that painful state of fear and doubt experienced by the author of the Jerusalem Delivered, when he gave it to the world-a state of suspense among the chil- dren of imagination, of which none are more liable to participate in than the too sensitive artist. TASSO. Dr. Young was fond of coffee in an afternoon; till, finding it preju- dicial to his nerves, he intimated his intention of abstaining from it. His grandson, who was then a little boy, inquired into the par- ticular motive that led him to this resolution. "My reason is," an- swered the doctor, "because it keeps me awake at night. I can't sleep for it." " Then I beg you, NIGHT THOUGHTS. THOMSON AND QUIN. Thomson, the poet, when he first came to London, was in very narrow circumstances, and was many times put to his shifts even for a dinner. Upon the publica- tion of his Seasons, one of his POETRY AND POETS. 207 creditors arrested him, thinking that a proper opportunity to get his money. The report of this misfortune reached the ears of Quin, who had read the Seasons, but never seen their author; and he was told that Thomson was in a sponging-house in Holborn. Thither Quin -went, and being admitted into his cham- ber, " Sir," said he, " you don't know me, but my name is Quin." Thomson said, that though he could not boast of the honor of a personal acquaintance, he was no stranger either to his name or his merit, and invited him to sit down. Quin then told him that he was come to sup with him, and that he had already ordered the cook to provide supper, which he hoped he would excuse. When supper was over, and the glass hyd gone briskly about, Mr. Quin told him it was " now time to enter upon business." Thomson declared he was ready to serve him as far as his capacity would reach in anything he should com- mand (thinking he was come about some affair relating to the drama). " Sir," says Quin, " you mistake me. I am in your debt. I owe you a hundred pounds, and I am come to pay you." Thomson, with a disconsolate air, replied, that, as he was a gen- tleman whom he had never of- fended, he wondered he should seek an opportunity to trifle with his misfortunes. " No," said Quin, raising his voice, " I say I owe you a hundred pounds, and there it is and suiting the action to the word, immediately laid a bank- note of that value before him. Thomson, astonished, begged he would explain himself. " Why," said Quin, " I will tell you. Soon after I had read your Seasons, I took it into my head, that, as I had something to leave behind me when I died, I would make my will. Among the rest of my legatees, I set down the author of the Seasons for a hundred pounds; and, this day hearing that you were in this house, I thought I might as well have the pleasure of paying the money myself, as order my execu- tors to pay it, when perhaps you might have less need of it; and this, Mr. Thomson, is my busi- ness." RIVAL REMEMBRANCE. Mr. Gifford to Mr. Hazlitt. " What we read from your pen we remember no more." Mr. Hazlitt to Mr. Gifford. " What we read from your pen we remember before." FIRST POETIC EFFUSION ON AMERICAN SOIL. The Bangor Whig, in 1850, gave the following statement, as derived from the archives of the ancient Historical Society in Boston: " The first poetic effusion ever produced on American soil origi- nated in a circumstance which was handsomely explained by one of the full bloods of the Jibawa, or, as we call them, Chippewas. All those who have witnessed the per- formances of the Indians of the far west, recently in our city, must recollect the cradle, and the mode in which the Indians bring up their children. " Soon after our forefathers landed at Plymouth, some of the 208 POETRY AND POETS. young yeople went out into a field where Indian women were picking strawberries, and observed several cradles hung upon the boughs of trees, with the infants fastened into them-a novel and curious sight to any European. A gentle breeze sprang up, which waved the cradle to and fro. A young man, one of the party, peeled off a piece of birch bark, and upon the spot wrote the following lines, which have been repeated thousands of times, by thousands of American mothers, very few of whom ever knew or cared for its origin: ' Lullaby baby, upon the tree top ; When the wind blows the cradle will rock; When the bough breaks the cradle will fall; And down conies lullaby, baby, and all.' " mother, in one of her fits of pas- sion, called him a 'lame brat!' " The second passage is scarcely less significant: " But in the case of Lord Byron, disappointment met him at the very threshold of life. His mother, to whom his affections first natur- ally and with order turned, either repelled them rudely, or capri- ciously trifled with them. In speaking of his early days to a friend at Genoa, a short time be- fore his departure for Greece, he traced his first feelings of pain and humiliation to the coldness with which his mother had received his caresses in infancy, and the fre- quent taunts on his personal de- formity with which she wounded him." This passage, found on the 146th page, is only excelled in dreadfulness by the following, on the 198th page: "He had spoken of his mother to Lord Sligo, and with a feeling that seemed little short of aver- sion. ' Some time or other,' said Byron, 'I will tell you why I thus feel towards her.' A few days after, when they were bathing to- gether in the Gulf of Lepanto, he referred to his promise, and point- ing to his naked leg, exclaimed, 'Look there! it is to her false deli- cacy at my birth I owe that de- formity ; and yet, as long as I can remember, she has never ceased to taunt and reproach me with it. Even a few days before we parted for the last time, on my leaving England, she, in one of her fits of passion, uttered an imprecation on me, praying that I might prove as ill-formed in mind as I am in LORD BYRON'S MOTHER. Lord Byron was afflicted with a club foot, and when young he submitted to some very painful operations to have the deformity removed, but with no success. His mother was a proud, passion- ate, and wicked woman, in whom even the yearnings of natural af- fection seemed stifled. Let us see the influence his mother exerted on this brilliant and powerful mind. The readers of ByrovUs Life must have shuddered to hear him speak of his mother. Moore, the biographer of Byron, speaks three times of this fact, and the passages are so remarkable that we will transcribe them literally. The first is brief, but significant: " On the subject of his deformed foot," says Moore, in his Byron (vol. i, p. 21), "Byron described the feeling of horror and humili- ation that came over him when his POETRY AND POETS. 209 body I ' His look and manner, in relating the frightful circumstance, can only be conceived by those who have seen him in a similar state of excitement." What an imprecation from the lips of a woman, and that woman a mother-" Praying that I might prove as ill-formed in mind as 1 am in body!" would tend to repress assistance towards the humbler children of genius. The baneful effects aris- ing from a charge of ingratitude in Ann Yearsley towards her benefactress might be the proxi- mate means of dooming to penury and death some unborn Chatter- ton, or of eclipsing the sun of a future Burns. " Hannah More discovered that the woman who supplied her fami- ly daily with milk was a respect- able poetess. She collected her productions, and published them for her benefit, with a recom- mendatory address. The poems, as they deserved, became popu- lar, doubtless, in a great degree, through the generous and influ- ential support of Mrs. H. More; and the profits of the sale amount- ed to some hundreds of pounds. " The money thus obtained the milkwoman wished to receive her- self, for the promotion of herself in life, and the assistance of her two promising sons, who inherited much of their mother's talent. Hannah More, on the contrary, in conjunction with Mrs. Montague, thought it most advisable to place the money in the funds, in the joint names of herself and Mrs. Montague, as trustees for Ann Yearsley, so that she might re- ceive a small permanent support through life. " The great error on the part of the milkwoman was in not prevailing on some friend thus to interfere, and calmly to state her case; instead of which, in a dis- astrous moment, she undertook to plead her own cause, and, without the slightest intention of giving HANNAH MORE AND ANN YEARSLEY. " I was well acquainted with Ann Yearsley," says Cottle, " and my friendship for Hannah More did not blind my eyes to the merits of her opponent. Candor exacts the acknowledgment that the Bris- tol milkwoman was a very extra- ordinary individual. Her natural abilities were eminent, united with which she possessed an unusually sound masculine understanding, and altogether evinced, even in her countenance, the unequivocal marks of genius. " It has been customary to charge her with ingratitude (at which all are ready to take fire), but without sufficient cause, as the slight services I rendered her were repaid with a superabun- dant expression of thankfulness. What, then, must have been the feelings of her heart towards Mrs. Hannah More, to whom her obli- gations were so surpassing? " The merits of the question involved in the dissension between Ann Yearsley and Mrs. Hannah More lie in a small compass, and they deserve to be faithfully stated. The public are interested in the refutation of charges of ingrati- tude, which, if substantiated, 210 POETRY AND POETS. offense, called on her patroness. Ann Yearsley's suit, no doubt, was urged with a zeal approach- ing to impetuosity, and not ex- pressed in that measured language which propriety might have dic- tated, and any deficiency in which could not fail to offend her polished and powerful patroness. " Ann Yearsley obtained her object, but she lost her friend. Her name, from that moment, was branded with ingratitude ; and se- vere indeed was the penalty en- tailed on her by this act of indis- cretion. Her good name, with the rapidity of the eagle's pinion, was forfeited. Her talents, in a large circle, at once became ques- tionable, or vanished away. Her assumed criminality also was mag- nified into audacity, in daring to question the honor or oppose the wishes of two such women as Mrs. Hannah More and Mrs. Monta- gue. And thus, through this dis- astrous turn of affairs, a dark vail was suddenly thrown over pros- pects so late the most unsullied and exhilerating; and the favorite of fortune sank to rise no more. " Gloom and perplexities in quick succession oppressed the Bristol milkwoman, and her fall became more rapid than her as- cent. The eldest of her sons, William Cromartie Yearsley, who had bidden fair to be the prop of her age, and whom she had ap- prenticed to an eminent engraver, with a premium of one hundred guineas, prematurely died; and his surviving brother soon follow- ed him to the grave. Ann Years- ley, now a childless and desolate widow, retired, heart-broken, from the world, on the produce of her library, and died many years after, in a state of almost total seclusion, at Melksham. An inhabitant of the town lately informed me that she was never seen, except when she took her solitary walk in the dusk of the evening. She lies buried in Clifton churchyard." WRITING FOR THE PRESENT THOMAS CARLYLE. The editor of the London Monthly Magazine, relates an an- ecdote characteristic of Carlyle, and from which others may take a useful hint. " We recollect," says the editor, walking with Mr. Thomas Carlyle down Regent street, when he remarked, that we poets had all of us mistaken the argument that we should treat. " The past," he said, " is too cool for this age of progress. Look at this throng of carriages, this multitude of men and horses, of women and children. Every one of these had a reason for going this way, rather than that. If we could penetrate their minds, and ascertain their motives, an epic poem would present itself, exhibiting the business of life as it is, with all its passions and interests, hopes and fears. A poem, whether in verse or prose, conceived in this spirit, and im- partially written, would be the epic of the age." And in this spirit it was he conceived the plan of his own French Revolu- tion, a History. pope's " ESSAY ON MAN." " In a rough attack upon War- burton," says D'Israeli, " rcspect- POETRY AND POETS. 211 ing Pope's privately printing fif- teen hundred copies of the Patriot King of Bolingbroke, which I con- ceive to have been written by Mallet, I find a particular account of the manner in which the Essay on Man was written, over which Johnson seems to throw great doubts. " The writer of this angry epis- tle, in addressing Warburton, says, ' If you were as intimate with Pope as you pretend, you must know the truth of a fact which several others, as well as I, who never had the honor of a personal acquaintance with Lord Boling- broke or Mr. Pope, have heard. The fact was related to me by a certain senior fellow of one of our universities, who was very inti- mate with Mr. Pope. " He started some objections one day, at Pope's house, to the doctrine contained in the ethic Epistles; upon which Mr. Pope told him that he would soon con- vince him of the truth of it, by laying the argument at large be- fore him; for which purpose he gave him a large prose manu- script to peruse, telling him, at the same time, the author's name. From this perusal, whatever other conviction the doctor might re- ceive, he collected at least this- that Mr. Pope had from his friend not only the doctrine, but even the finest and strongest ornaments of his ethics. "'Now, if this fact be true,- as I question not but you know it to be so-I believe no man of candor will attribute such merit to Mr. Pope as you would insinu- ate, for acknowledging the wisdom and the friendship of the man who was his instructor in philosophy, nor, consequently, that this ac- knowledgment, and the dedication of his own system, put into a poeti- cal dress by Mr. Pope, laid his lordship under the necessity of never resenting any injury done to him afterwards. Mr. Pope said no more than the literal truth in calling Lord Bolingbroke his guide, philosopher, and friend' " The existence of this very manu- script volume was authenticated by Lord Bathurst, in a conversa- tion with Dr. Blair and others, where he said " he had read the manuscript in Lord Bolingbroke's handwriting, and was at a loss whether most to admire the ele- gance of Lord Bolingbroke's prose, or the beauty of Mr. Pope's verse.'" (See the letter of Dr. Blair in Boswell's Life of John- son.') DUNGEON COMPOSITIONS. It was behind the bars of a gloomy window in the Tower, where " every hour appeared to be a hundred winters," that Chau- cer, recently from exile, and sore from persecution, was reminded of a work popular in those days, and which had been composed in a dungeon - the Consolations of Philosophy, by Boethius - and which he himself had formerly translated. He composed his Tes- tament of Love, substituting for the severity of an abstract being the more genial inspiration of love itself. But the fiction was reality, and the griefs were deeper than the fancies. In this chronicle of the heart 212 POETRY AND POETS. the poet moans oter " the deli- cious hours he was wont to enjoy," of his " richesse," and now of his destitution-the vain regret of his abused confidence-the treachery of all that " summer brood " who never approached the lost friend in the " winter hour " of an iron solitude. The poet energetically describes his condition: there he sat, " witless, thoughtful; and sightless, looking." This work the poet has composed in prose; but in the leisure of a prison the diction became more poetical in thoughts and in words than the language at that time had yet at- tained to, and for those who read the black letter, it still retains its impressive eloquence. "It rarely happens that a young author meets with a bookseller as inexperienced and as ardent as himself; and it would be still more extraordinary if such mutual indiscretion did not bring with it cause for regret to both. But this transaction was the com- mencement of an intimacy which has continued, without the slight- est displeasure, to this day. " At that time few books were printed in the country; and it was seldom indeed that a quarto vol- ume issued from a provincial press. A fount of new types was ordered for what was intended to be the handsomest book that Bristol had ever yet sent forth; and when the paper arrived, and the printer was ready to commence his operations, nothing had been done towards preparing the poem for the press, except that a few verbal altera- tions had been made. I was not, however, without misgivings ; and when the first proof-sheet was brought me, the more glaring faults of the composition stared me in the face. " But the sight of a well-printed page, which was to be set off with all the advantages that fine-wove paper and hot-pressing could im- part, put me in spirits, and I went to work with good will. About half the first book was left in its original state ; and the rest of the poem was recast and recomposed while the printing went on. " This occupied six months. I corrected the concluding sheet of the poem, left the preface in the publisher's hands, and departed for Lisbon, by way of Corunna and Madrid." ORIGIN OF "JOAN OF ARC." Mr. Southey, the poet laureate, gives the following as the origin of the publication of his poem of Joan of Arc: " Towards the close of the year 1794, the poem was announced to be published by subscription, in a quarto volume, at one pound one shilling. Soon afterwards, I became acquainted with my fellow- townsman, Joseph Cottle, who had just commenced business as a printer and bookseller in the city of Bristol. One evening I read to him part of the poem, without any thought of making a proposal concerning it, or expectation of receiving one. He offered me fifty guineas for the copyright, and fifty copies for my subscribers, which was more than the list amounted to; and the offer was accepted as readily as it was pro- posed. 213 POETRY AND POETS. GOD SAVE THE KING. circle, that she observed him sink- ing into increased dejection. It was her custom, on these occa- sions, to try all the resources of her sprightly powers for his im- mediate relief. She told him the story of John Gilpin (which had been treasured in her memory from her childhood), to dissipate the gloom of the passing hour. Its effects on the fancy of Cowper had the air of enchantment. He informed her, the next morning, that convulsions of laugh- ter, brought on by his recollection of her story, had kept him waking during the greatest part of the night, and that he had turned it into a ballad. So arose the pleas- ant poem of John Gilpin. It is said that the English na- tional hymn, so called, " God save the King," is of French origin, both the words and the music. In the Memoirs of the Marquise de Crequip published in 1844, and containing her souvenirs from 1710 to 1800, the original words are given in French, as sung in French before Louis XIV, when he entered the Chapel of St. Cyr. The words are as follows: " Grand Dieu, Sauvez le Roi! Grand Dieu, Venez le Roi! Vive le Roi! Qui toujours Glorieux Louis Victorieux! Voyez vos ennemis Toujours soumis! Grand Dieu, Sauvez le Roi! Grand Dieu, Venez le Roi! Vive le Roi! " HENRY KIRKE WHITE. The words are said to have been written by Madame de Brinon, and the music by the famous Sully. It is also said that Handel, during a visit to Paris, got possession of the music, and on his return dedicated it to King George I. It must be rather galling to a loyal Englishman, while bursting his lungs in roar- ing " God save the Queen," and knocking the hats over the eyes of the refractory individuals who refuse to join him in his folly, to remember that he is glorifying his "Mrs. Cobourg" in a French song to French music.-American An- ecdotes. This youthful bard, whose pre- mature death was so sincerely regretted by every admirer of genius, manifested an ardent love of reading in his infancy; it was a passion to which everything else gave way. "I could fancy," says his eldest sister, "I see him in his little chair, with a large book upon his knee, and my mother calling, ' Henry, my love, come to dinner which was repeated so often with- out being regarded, that she was obliged to change her voice before she could rouse him. " When he was about seven, he would creep unperceived into the kitchen, to teach the servant to read and write ; and he contin- ued this for some time before it was discovered that he had been thus laudably employed. " He wrote a tale of a Swiss cowper's " john gilpin." It happened one afternoon, in those years when Cowper's ac- complished friend, Lady Austen, made a part of his little evening 214 POETRY AND POETS. emigrant, which, was probably his first composition, and gave it to the servant, being ashamed to show it to his mother." " The consciousness of genius," says Mr. Southey, is always at first accom- panied with this diffidence ; it is a sacred, solitary feeling. No for- ward child, however extraordina- ry the promise of his childhood, ever produced anything truly great." When Henry was about eleven years old, he one day wrote a sep- arate theme for every boy in his class, which consisted of about twelve or fourteen. The master said he had never known them to write so well upon any subject be- fore, and could not refrain from expressing his astonishment at the excellence of Henry's own. At the age of thirteen he wrote a poem, " On being confined to school one pleasant morning in Spring," from which the following is an extract: seven years of his life in folding up stockings, and he remonstrated with his friends against the em- ployment. Young White was soon remov- ed from the stocking-loom to the office of a solicitor, which was a less obnoxious employment. He became a member of the literary society in Nottingham, and deliv- ered an extempore lecture on genius ; in which he displayed so much talent, that he received the unanimous thanks of the society, and they elected this young Ros- cius of oratory their professor of literature. At the age of fifteen he gained a silver medal for a translation from Horace ; and the following year a pair of globes, for an imaginary tour from Lon- don to Edinburgh. He determin- ed upon trying for this prize one evening when at tea with his fam- ily ; and at supper he read to them his performance. In his seventeenth year he pub- lished a small volume of poems, which possessed considerable mer- it. Soon after, he was sent to Cam- bridge, and entered at St. John's College, where he made the most rapid progress. But the in- tensity of his studies ruined his constitution, and he fell a victim to his ardent thirst for knowledge. He died about two years after, aged twenty-one, leaving behind him several poems and letters, which gave earnest of the high rank he would have attained in the republic of letters, had his life been spared. " How gladly would my soul forego All that arithmeticians know, Or stiff grammarians quaintly teach, Or all that industry can reach, To taste each morn of all the joys That with the laughing sun arise, And unconstrained to rove along The bushy brakes and glens among, And woo the Muse's gentle power, In unfrequented rural bower! But ah! such heaven-approaching joys Will never meet my longing eyes ; Still will they cheat in vision fine, Yet never but in fancy shine." The parents qf Henry were anxious to put him to some trade ; and when he was in his fourteenth year, he was placed at a stocking- loom, with the view, at some fu- ture period, of getting a situation in a hosier's warehouse ; but the youth did not conceive that nature intended to doom him to spend He arose at four in the morn- HABITS OF MILTON. POETRY AND POETS. 215 ing; had some one to read the Bi- ble to him for about half an hour; contemplated till seven ; read and wrote until dinner; walked, or swung, and played music three or four hours; entertained visitors until eight; took a light supper; smoked his pipe ; drank a glass of water, and went to bed. He nev- er drank strong liquors, and sel- dom drank anything at all be- tween his meals. Williams, on their way from Leg- horn to Leria. " The remains of Shelley and Mr. Williams," says Leigh Hunt, " were burnt, after the good an- cient fashion, and gathered into coffers. Those of Mr. Williams were subsequently taken to Eng- land. Shelley's were interred at Rome, in the Protestant burial- ground, the place which he had so touchingly described in recording its reception of Keats. " The ceremony of the burning was alike beautiful and distress- ing. Trelawney, who had been the chief person concerned in as- certaining the fate of his friends, completed his kindness by taking the most active part on this last mournful occasion. He and his friend, Captain Shenlcy, were first upon the ground, attended by proper assistants. Lord Byron and myself arrived shortly after- wards. His lordship got out of his carriage, but wandered away from the spectacle, and did not see it. I remained inside the car- riage, now looking on, and now drawing back, with feelings that were not to be witnessed. " None of the mourners, howev- er, refused themselves the little comfort of supposing that lovers of books and antiquity, like Shelley and his companion-Shelley in particular, with his Greek enthusi- asm-would not have been sorry to foresee this part of their fate. The mortal part of him, too, was saved from corruption-not the least ex- traordinary part of his history. " Among the materials for burn- ing were many of the more grace- ful and more classical articles, goldsmith's habits. In the house he usually wore his shirt-collar open, in the man- ner represented in the portrait by Sir Joshua. Occasionally he read much at night when in bed ; at other times, when not disposed to read, and yet unable to sleep, which was not an unusual occur- rence, the candle was kept burn- ing, his mode of extinguishing which, when out of immediate reach, was characteristic of his fits of indolence or carelessness: he flung his slipper at it, which in the morning was, in conse- quence, usually found near the overturned candlestick, daubed with grease. When the young gentleman who styles himself the American Goethe was asked why he did not write something equal to Goethe's, he testily answered, " Because I haven't a mind to." THE AMERICAN GOETHE. DEATH AND FUNERAL OF SHELLEY. It is well known that Shelley was wrecked and drowned in a storm, with his friend, Captain 216 POETRY AND POETS, such as could readily be procured -frankincense, wine, etc. To these was added Keats's volume, found in his vest pocket. " The beauty of the flame aris- ing from the funeral pile was ex- traordinary. The weather was beautifully fine. The Mediter- ranean, now soft and lucid, kissed the shore as if to make peace with it. The yellow sand and blue sky were intensely contrasted with one another; marble mountains touched the air with coolness ; and the flame of the fire bore away towards heaven in vigorous am- plitude, waving and quivering with a brightness of inconceivable beauty. It seemed as though it contained the glassy essence of vitality. You might have expect- ed a seraphic countenance to look out of it, turning once more, be- fore it departed, to thank the friends that had done their duty. " Shelley, when he died, was in his thirtieth year. His figure was tall and slight, and his consti- tution consumptive. He was sub- ject to violent spasmodic pains, which would sometimes force him to lie on the ground till they were over; but he had always a kind word to give to those about him, when his pangs allowed him to speak. In this organization, as well as in some other respects, he resem- bled the German poet, Schiller. Though well turned, his shoulders were bent a little, owing to prema- ture thoughtand trouble. The same causes had touched his hair with gray; and though his habits of temperance and exercise gave him a remarkable degree of strength, it is not supposed he could have lived many years." ORIGIN OF THE "MARSEILLAISE." M. de Lamartine, in his Histo- ric des Girondins, published in Paris, gives the following account of the origin of the French na- tional air, the Marseillaise: " In the garrison of Strasburg was quartered a young artillery officer, named Rouget de Lisle, a native of Louis de Sahiier, in the Jura. He had a great taste for music and poetry, and often enter- tained his comrades during their long and tedious hours in the gar- rison. Sought after for his musi- cal and poetical talent, he was a frequent and familiar guest at the house of one Dietrich, an Alsatian patriot, mayor of Strasburg. " The winter of 1792 was a pe- riod of great scarcity at Strasburg. The house of Dietrich was poor, his table was frugal, but a seat was always open for Rouget de Lisle. " One day there was nothing but bread and some slices of smoked ham on the table. Dietrich, regarding the young of- ficer, said to him, with sad sereni- ty, ' Abundance fails atour boards ; but what matters that, if enthusi- asm fails not at our civic fetes, nor courage in the hearts of our sol- diers ? I have still a last bottle of wine in my cellar. Bring it,' said he to one of his daughters, 'and let us drink France and lib- erty ! Strasburg should have its patriotic solemnity. De Lisle must draw from these last drops 217 POETRY AND POETS. one of those hymns which raise the soul of the people.' " The wine was brought and drank, after which the officer de- parted. The night was cold. De Lisle was thoughtful. His heart was moved, his head heated. He returned, staggering, to his solita- ry room, and slowly sought inspir- ation, sometimes in the fervor of bis citizen soul, and anon on the keys of his instrument, composing now the air before the words, and then the words before the air. He sung all and wrote nothing, and at last, exhausted, fell asleep, with his head resting on his instrument, and awoke not till daybreak. " The music of the night re- turned to his mind like the im- pression of a dream. He wrote it, and ran to Dietrich, whom he found in the garden digging win- terlettuces. The wife and daugh- ters of the old man were not up. Dietrich awoke them and called in some friends, all as passionate as himself for music, and able to execute the composition of De Lisle. At the first stanza, cheeks grew pale; at the second, tears flowed; and at last, the delirium of enthusiasm burst forth. The wife of Dietrich, his daughters, himself, and the young officer, threw themselves, crying, into each others arms. " The hymn of the country was found. Executed some days af- terwards in Strasburg, the new song flew from city to city, and was played by all the popular or- chestras. Marseilles adopted it to be sung at the commencement of the sittings of the clubs, and the Marseillaise spread it through France, singing it along the pub- lic roads. From this came the name of Marseillaise. Thomson's " winter." Many writers of popular name have been indebted to casual cir- cumstances for their elevated dis- tinction. When Thomson produ- ced his " Winter," the best of his Seasons, the poem lay like waste- paper in the shop of the book- seller, and to the great mortifica- tion of the author. At last Mr. Mitchell, a gentleman of taste and rank, having read the piece with pleasure, took it in his pock- et, read passages from it in all companies where he visited, and in a few days, the whole impres- sion being disposed of, the poet was enabled to complete his de- sign. Campbell's " hohenlinden." The following is an extract from a letter written by Thomas Camp- bell to a relative in America, and affords us the first impressions of the battle of Hohenlinden. "Never shall time efface from my memory the recollections of that hour of astonishment and suspended breath, when I stood with the good monks of St. Jacob, to overlook a charge of Klenau's cavalry upon the French under Grennier, encamped below us. We saw the fire given and return- ed, and heard distinctly the sound of the French pas de charge, col- lecting the lines to attack in close column. After three hours' await- ing the issue of a severe action, a park of artillery was opened 218 POETRY AND POETS. just beneath the walls of the mo- nastery, and several wagoners, who were stationed to convey the wounded in spring-wagons, were killed in our sight. My love of novelty now gave way to personal fear; and I took a carriage, in company with an Austrian sur- geon, back to Landshut." " I remember," he adds, on his return to England, " how little I valued the art of painting, before I got into the heart of such im- pressive scenes ; but in Germany I would have given anything to have possessed an art capable of conveying ideas inaccessible to speech and writing. Some particu- lar scenes were rather overcharged with that degree of the terrific which oversteps the sublime ; and I own my flesh yet creeps at the recollection of spring-wagons and hospitals ; but the sight of Ingol- stadt in ruins, or Hohenlinden covered with fire, seven miles in circumference, were spectacles never to be forgotten." occurred to him during the night; he rose early and went into the garden to compose. In the heat of his composition, he walked into the tulip-bed ; un- fortunately he had a stick in his hand, and, with a true poetical fervor, he hewed down the tulips in every direction. Lady Temple was particularly fond of tulips, and some of the company, who had seen the doctor slashingaround him, and suspected how his mind was occupied, asked him, at break- fast, how he could think of thus wantonly destroying her ladyship's favorite flowers. The poet, perfectly unconscious of the havoc he had made, plead- ed not guilty. There were wit- nesses enough to convict him. He acknowledged that he had been composing in the garden, and made his peace by repeating the ballad. JAMES MONTGOMERY, THE POET. Professor Durbin, an American tourist, in his letters from Eng- land, writes: " The day I left Sheffield, at five o'clock p. M., for Manchester, Dr. Newton, and Mr. Jones, his host, were so good as to afford several of us the great pleasure of spending an hour or two in the company of Mr. Mont- gomery, the poet. It was at the dinner-table at Mr. Jones's. " Conference business required that the company should sit down to dinner early, and it chanced to be before Mr. Montgomery arriv- ed. As soon as he was seen through the window approaching the door, Mr. Jones rose and went out to meet him, and led him into THE THREE VERSES OF EURI- PIDES. Euripides once said that three of his verses had cost him the la- bor of three days. "I could have written a hundred in that time," said another poet of ordina- ry abilities. " I believe it," re- plied Euripides ; " but they would have lived only three days." Dr. Glover was on a visit at Stowe, when he wrote his celebra- ted ballad of Admiral Hosier's Ghost, perhaps the most spirited of all his productions. The idea AN OVER-POETIC POET. POETRY AND POETS. 219 the room. All rose, and stood while he passed round the table, shaking each one by the hand, and then took his seat with Mr. Newton, between him and myself. " The conversation was inter- rupted but a moment; and the in- telligence, vivacity, and piety of the poet instantly diffused a glow and elevation of thought and feel- ing which true consecrated genius only can inspire. The topics were various - grave, gay, amusing, sometimes witty, but always mark- ed with great propriety, and often with deep piety. " He is now quite advanced in years, and nervous, his health not being good; yet in company he is very cheerful. He is exceedingly easy and agreeable in manner, and his whole bearing very gentle- manly. " No man in any community was ever more respected ; and he enters into all the great benevo- lent movements in his vicinity, and generally presides, at least once a year, at one of the princi- pal missionary meetings of the Wesleyans in Sheffield. He is a truly religious man ; the son of a Moravian missionary, who died in the West Indies. " Some time ago, there was a proposition to re-establish the mis- sion on the same island ; and, out of respect to Mr. Montgomery, all classes contributed, and the funds were immediately raised. He has a small income from his works, and a small pension from the gov- ernment ; and thus passes his days in sweet retirement, coming forth only to countenance the cause of religion and benevolence, or to shine upon his friends. I was obliged to take my leave of him and the entire company around him ere the dinner-party broke up." swift's mental malady. Sometimes, during his mental affliction, he continued walking about the house for many consec- utive hours; sometimes he remain- ed in a kind of torpor. At times, he would seem to struggle to bring into distinct consciousness and shape into expression, the intellect that lay smothering under gloomy obstruction in him. A pier-glass falling by accident, nearly fell on him. He said he wished it had ! He once repeated, slowly, several times, " I am what I am." The last thing he wrote was an epi- gram on the building of a maga- zine for arms and stores, which was pointed out to him as he went abroad during his mental disease: " Behold a proof of Irish sense ; Here Irish wit is seen ; When nothing's left that's worth defense, They build a magazine! " swift's hudeness. An anecdote which, though only- told by Mrs. Pilkington, is well attested, bears, that the last time he was in London he went to dine with the Earl of Burlington, who was but newly married. The Earl, it is supposed, being willing to have a little diversion, did not in- troduce him to his lady, nor men- tion his name. After dinner, said the Dean, "Lady Burlington, I hear you can sing; sing me a song." The lady looked on this unceremonious manner of asking a favor with distaste, and positive- ly refused. He said, " She should 220 POETRY AND POETS. sing, or he would make her. Why, madam, I suppose you take me for one of your poor English hedge-parsons; sing when 1 bid you." As the Earl did nothing but- laugh at this freedom, the lady was so vexed that she burst into tears, and retired. His first compliment to her when he saw her again was, " Pray, madam, are you as proud and ill-natured now as when I saw you last ? " To which she answered with great good humor, " No, Mr. Dean, 1'11 sing for you if you please." From which time he conceived a great esteem for her. - Scott's Life of Swift. He answered quick, " Sir, I drink no memories 1 " Happening to be in company with a petulant young man who prided himself on saying pert things . . . and who cried out - " You must know, Mr. Dean, that I set up for a wit I " " Do you so," says the Dean, " take my advice, and sit down again ! " At another time, being in com- pany, when a lady whisking her long train (long trains were then in fashion), swept down a fine fid- dle, and broke it, Swift cried out: " Mantua vae miseraa nimium vicina Cre- monae! " -Dr. Delany. I know of few things more con- clusive as to the sincerity of Swift's religion than his advice to poor John Gay to turn clergyman, and look out for a scat on the bench. Gay, the author of the Beggar's Opera-Gay, the wildest of the wits about town-it was this man that Jonathan Swift advised to take orders - to invest in a cas- sock and bands--just as he advis- ed him to busband his shillings, and put his thousand pounds out at interest. The Queen, and the bishops, and the world, were right in mistrusting the religion of that man.- Thackeray. swift's religion. Mr. Addison wrote very fluent- ly ; but he was sometimes very slow and scrupulous in correcting. He would show his verses to sev- eral friends; and would alter al- most everything that any of them hinted at as wrong. He seemed to be too diffident of himself; and too much concerned about his character as a poet; or, (as he worded it,) too solicitous for that kind of praise, which, God knows, is but a very little matter after all!-Pope. addison's diffidence. addison's gravity and taci- turnity. Addison was perfect good com- pany with intimates, and had something more charming in his conversation than I ever knew in any other man; but with any mixture of strangers, and some- times only with one, he seemed to preserve his dignity much, with a stiff sort of silence.-Pope. The style of his conversation was very much of a piece with that of his writings, concise, and clear, and strong. Being one day at a sheriff's feast, who, among other toasts, called out to him, " Mr. Dean, the trade of Ireland 1 " swift's conversation. POETRY AND POETS. 221 The remark of Mandeville, who, when he had passed an evening in his company, declared that he was "a parson in a tyewig," can detract little from his character. He was always reserved to stran- gers, and was not incited to un- common freedom by a character like that of Mandeville.-Johnson. Old Jacob Tonson did not like Mr. Addison: he had a quarrel with him, and, after his quitting the secretaryship, used frequently to say of him - " One day or other you'll see that man a bishop -I'm sure he looks that way; and, indeed, I ever thought him a priest in his heart."-Pope. It was my fate to be much with the wits; my father was acquaint- ed with all of them. Addison was the best company in the world. I never knew anybody that had so much wit as Congreve.-Lady Wortley Montagu. nations, and the interests of our own, are easily understood. Prior rose in the diplomatic service, and said good things that proved his sense and his spirit. When the apartments at Versailles were shown to him, with the victories of Louis XIV painted on the walls, and Prior was asked whether the palace of the king of England had any such decorations, "The mon- uments of my master's actions," Mat said, of William, whom he cordially revered, " are to be seen everywhere, except in his own house." Bravo, Mat 1 Prior rose to be full ambassador at Paris, where he somehow was cheated out of his ambassadorial plate; and in a heroic poem, addressed by him to her late lamented ma- jesty Queen Anne, Mat makes some magnificent allusions to these dishes and spoons, of which Fate had deprived him. All that he wants, he says, is her Majesty's picture; without that he can't be happy: " Thee, gracious Anne, the present I adore ; Thee, Queen of Peace, if Time and Eate have power Higher to raise the glories of thy reign, In words sublimer and a nobler strain, May future bards the mighty theme rehearse, Here, Stator Jove, and Phcebus, king of Verse, The votive tablet I susj.end." With that word the poem stops abruptly. The votive tablet is suspended for ever, like Mahom- et's coffin. News came that the Queen was dead. Stator Jove, and Phoebus, king of verse, were left there, hovering to this day over the votive tablet. The pic- ture was never got any more than the spoons and dishes-the inspi- ration ceased-the verses were not wanted-the ambassador was not PRIOR SINGING AND DANCING DIPLOMATISTS. Matthew Prior was made Sec- retary of Embassy at the Hague! I believe it is dancing, rather than singing, which distinguishes the young English diplomatists of the present day; and have seen them in various parts perform that part of their duty very finely. In Prior's time, it appears, a differ- ent accomplishment led to pre- ferment. Could you write a copy of Alcaics ? that was the question. Could you turn out a neat epigram or two? Could you compose The Town and Country Mouse? It is manifest that, by the posses- sion of this faculty, the most diffi- cult treaties, the laws of foreign 222 POETRY AND POETS. wanted. Poor Mat was recalled from his embassy, suffered dis- grace along with his patrons, lived under a sort of cloud ever after, and disappeared in Essex. When deprived of all his pensions and emoluments, the hearty and gen- erous Oxford pensioned him. They played for gallant stakes- the bold men of those days-and lived and gave splendidly.- Thackeray's English Humorists. the painters of those days scarcely ever portrayed wits), and he laughs at you over his shoulder with an honest boyish glee - an artless, sweet humor. It was so kind, so gentle, so jocular, so delightfully brisk at times, so dismally woe- begone at others, such a natural good creature, that the giants loved him.-Thackeray. gay's APPETITE AT TABLE. Thackeray says that the Duke and Duchess of Queensberry over- fed the poetical Gay, who " was lapped in cotton, and had his plate of chicken, and his saucer of cream, and frisked, and barked, and wheezed, and grew fat, and so ended." Congreve testified that Gay was a great eater. " As the French philosopher used to prove his existence by cogito, ergo sum, the greatest proof of Gay's existence is edit, ergo est." gay's wealth and improvi- dence. Gay, says Pope, was quite a natural man-wholly without art or design, and spoke just what he thought, and as he thought it. He dangled for twenty years about a court, and at last was offered to be made usher to the young princess. Secretary Craggs made Gay a present of stock in the South Sea year; and he was once worth £20,000, but lost it all again. He got about £500 by the first Beg- gar's Opera, and £1100 or £1200 by the second. He was negligent, and a bad manager. Latterly, the Duke of Queensberry took his money into his keeping, and let him only have what was necessary out of it, and, as he lived with them, he could not have occasion for much. He died worth upwards of £3000.-Pope. CRITICISM ON GRAY'S "ELEGY." This work was published anon- ymously, and was designed to form a continuation of Dr. Johnson's Criticism on the Poems of Gray. It was written by Professor Young of Glasgow, who has imitated, with singular felicity, the style and construction of the fabric of which it was to form a part. Dr. Johnson says: " Of the imitation of my style in a criticism on Gray's Churchyard, I forgot to make men- tion. The author is, I believe, utterly unknown, for Mr Stevens cannot hunt him out. I know little of it; for, though it was sent me, I never cut the leaves open. I had a letter with it representing it to me as my own work. In such gay's portrait. In the portraits of the literary worthies of the early part of the last century, Gay's face is the pleasantest perhaps of all. It ap- pears adorned with neither periwig nor night-cap (the full dress and negligee of learning, without which POETRY AND POETS. 223 an account to the public there may be humor, but to me it was nei- ther serious nor comical. I sus- pect the writer to be wrong-headed. As to the noise which it makes, I have never heard it, and am in- clined to believe that few attacks, either of ridicule or invective, make much noise, but by the help of those that they provoke."-Dr. Johnson to Mrs. Thrale. was but a day or two before that a band of musicians and actors set out from Florence, to introduce operas for the first time in the Em- press of Russia's court. This ad- vance of music, and that sort of dramatic poetry which the Ital- ians at present look upon as the most capital parts of what they call virtu, so much farther north than ever they had been under the auspicss of the then great duke, was the subject I offered for them. They shook their heads a little, and said it was a very dif- ficult one. However, in two or three minutes' time, one of them began with his octave upon it; another answered him immediate- ly, and they went on for five or six stanzas, alternately, without any pause, except that very short one which is allowed them by the giving off" of the tune on the gui- tar, at the end of each stanza. They always improvise to music -at least all that I ever heard- and the tune is somewhat slow; but when they are thoroughly warmed, they will sometimes call out for quicker time. If two of these guitar-players meet in the summer nights in the very streets of Florence, they will challenge one another, and improvise some- times as rapidly as those in set companies. Their most common subject is the commendation of their several mistresses, or two shepherds contending for the same, or a debate which is the best poet. They often put one in mind of Virgil's third, fifth, and seventh eclogues, or what he calls the con- tention of his shepherds, in altern- EXTEMPORE POETS OF ITALY. The improvvisatori,, or extem- pore poets in Italy, are actually what they are called. They do it with great emulation and warmth, generally in octaves, in which the answerer is obliged to form his octave to the concluding line of the challenger, so that all the oc- taves after the first must be ex- tempore, unless they act in concert together. " The first time I heard them," says Spence, " I thought it impossible for them to go on so readily as they did without having arranged things beforehand. " It was at Florence, at our resident's, Mr. Colman. When Mr. C. asked me what I thought of it, I told him that I could not conceive how they could go on so readily and so evenly, without some collusion between them. He said that it amazed everybody at first; that he had no doubt of its being all fair, and desired me, to be satisfied of it, to give them some subject myself, as much out of the way as I could think of. As he insisted upon my doing so, I offered a subject which must be new to them, and on which they could not well be prepared. It 224 PONDEROUS ERUDITION.-PRINTING AND PRINTERS. ate verse; and, by the way, Vir- gil's shepherds seem sometimes to be tied down by the thought in the preceding stanza, as these extem- pore poets are by the preceding rhyme." PONDEROUS ERUDITION. Dr. Walter Anderson, who was afflicted with an incurable cacoe- thes scribendi, was for half a cen- tury minister of Chirnside. Com- plaining to David Hume that the successful authors had pre-occu- pied all the popular subjects, the historian jocularly suggested the Life of Croesus, king of Lydia, as a suitable subject for a book. An- derson seized the idea, and wrote the life, containing also "Observa- tions on the ancient notion of Des- tiny, or Dreams, on the origin and credit of the Oracles," etc. The work received a serio-burlesque notice in the second number of the first Edinburgh lieviexv, conducted by Hume, Smith, Carlyle, and others. Undeterred by the failure of his first attempt, he produced in succession five quarto volumes of history, which nobody read or bought. As he published at his own risk, it is related that the cost of print and paper was defrayed by the sale, one by one, as each successive ponderous 4to ap- peared, of some houses which he possessed in the town of Dunse, till all had become the property of another. PRINTING AND PRINTERS. works were passed off as manu- scripts. The two principal cities which lay claim to the invention are Haerlem and Mentz; and either from one or the other, or perhaps from both, it was conveyed to the different cities and countries of Europe. The introduction of printing into England is undoubtedly to be ascribed to William Caxton, a modest, worthy, and industrious man, who went to Germany entire- ly to learn the art; and having practiced it himself at Cologne, in When, where, and by whom printing was invented are equally unknown; and it may, perhaps, be matter of surprise to many that the art of printing, which throws so much light upon almost every other subject, should throw little upon its own origin. The most we know is, that it was discovered either in Germany or Holland, about 1440-only about four hun- dred years ago; that the first types were made of wood, not metal; and that some of the earliest printed THE ART OF PRINTING. PRINTING AND PRINTERS. 225 1471, brought it to England two years afterwards. He was not only a printer, but an author; and the book which he translated, called the Game at Chess, and which appeared in 1474, is con- sidered as the first production of the English press. The seal-engravers were, how- ever, the first printers; and the art of printing with blocks was merely an extension of the art, from impressions on wax to im- pressions on paper or vellum. Though a variety of opinions exist as to the individual by whom the art of printing was first dis- covered, yet all authorities concur in admitting Peter Schoeffer to be the person who invented the cast- metal types; having learned the art of cutting the letters from the Guttembergs : he is also supposed to have been the first who en- graved on copper-plates. The following testimony has been preserved in the family, by Jo. Fred. Faustus, of Ascheffen- burg: " Peter Schaeffer, of Gernsheim, perceiving his master Faust's de- sign, and being himself desirous ardently to improve the art, found out-by the good providence of God-the method of cutting (inci- dendi) the characters in a matrix, that the letters might easily be singly cast, instead of being cut. He privately cut matrices for the whole alphabet. Faust was so pleased with the contrivance, that he promised Peter to give him his only daughter, Christiana, in mar- riage-a promise which he soon after performed." The dash, or perpendicular line, thus, | , was the only punctuation the first printers used. It was, however, discovered that " the craft of poynting well used makes the sentence very light." The more elegant comma supplanted the long, uncouth | ; the colon was a refinement, " showing that there is more to come." But the semi- colon was a Latin delicacy which the obtuse English typographer resisted. So late as 1580 and 1590, treatises on orthography do not recognize any such innovator; the Bible of 1592, though printed with appropriate accuracy, is with- out a semicolon; but in 1G33, its full rights are established by Charles Butler's English Gram- mar. From this chronology of the four points of punctuation, it is evident that Shakspeare could never have used the semicolon; a circumstance which the profound George Chalmers mourns over, opining that semicolons would often have saved the poet from his commentators. PUNCTUATION. PRINTING AND BURNING OF TIN- dal's NEW TESTAMENT. Tonstall, Bishop of London, in the reign of Henry VIII, and whose extreme moderation, of which he was accused at the time, preferred burning books to burn- ing authors, which was then get- ting into practice, to testify his abhorrence of Tindal's principles, who had printed a translation of the New Testament, a sealed book for the multitude, thought of pur- 226 PRINTING AND PRINTERS. chasing all the copies of Tindal's translation, and annihilating them in one common flame. This occur- red to him when passing through Antwerp, in 1529, then a place of residence for the Tindalists. He employed an English merchant there for this business, who hap- pened to be a secret follower of Tindal, and acquainted him with the bishop's intention. Tindal was extremely glad to hear of the project, for he was desirous of printing a more correct edition of his version, but the first impres- sion still hung on his hands, and he was too poor to make a new one. He furnished the English mer- chant with all his unsold copies, which the bishop as eagerly bought, and had them all publicly burned in Cheapside; which the people not only declared was " a burning of the word of God," but it so inflamed the desire of reading that volume, that the second edi- tion was sought after at any price; and when one of the Tindalists, who was sent here to sell them, was promised by the Lord-Chan- cellor, in a private examination, that he should not suffer if he would reveal who encouraged and supported his party at Antwerp, the Tindalist immediately accept- ed the offer, and assured the Lord- Chancellor that the greatest en- couragement they had wras from Tonstall, Bishop of London, who had bought up half the impres- sion, and enabled them to produce a second I Bibles printed by the king's print- ers is remarkable. Dr. Lee states, " I do not know any book in which it is so difficult to find a very cor- rect edition as the English Bible." What is in England called the Standard Bible, is that printed at Oxford, in 1769, which was super- intended by Dr. Blayney; yet it has been ascertained that there are at least one hundred and six- teen errors in it. These errors were discovered in printing an edition in London, in 1806, which has been considered as very correct; yet Dr. Lee says that that edition contains a greater number of mistakes. The Rev. T. Curtis corroborates Dr. Lee's tes- timony. He states his general impression to be, that the text of the common English Bible is in- correct, and he gives a great vari- ety of instances. Dr. A. Clarke, in his preface to the Bible, states that he has cor- rected many thousand errors in the Italics, which, in general, are said to be in a very incorrect state. Between the Oxford edition of 1830 and the Cambridge edition, there are eight hundred variations in the Psalms alone. The Rev. T. II. Horne, in his Introduction to the Study of the Scriptures, makes the following observation : " Booksellers' edi- tion, 1806. In the course of print- ing, by Woodfall, this edition from the Cambridge copy, a great num- ber of very gross errors were dis- covered in the latter, and the er- rors of the common Oxford edi- tion were not so few as twelve hundred." Mr. Offor, a retired bookseller, The number of typographical inaccuracies which abound in the ENGLISH BIBLES. PRINTING AND PRINTERS. 227 and who made a collection of up- wards of four hundred Bibles of different editions, states that he was not aware of any edition he had examined which was without errors; but Pasham's Bible, in 1776,and another printed at Edin- burgh, in 1811, were the most ac- curate and the most beautiful he had found. Now, it will be observed, that the former was printed by a pri- vate individual, the monopoly be- ing evaded by putting at the bot- tom of the pages very short notes, which were cut off in the binding. The same witness afterwards remarks, that " there never was an elegant edition of the Bible printed at the king's printers'; the ele- gant editions have been those of Baskerville, Macklin, Heptinstall, Ritchie, and Bowyer, and the whole of these were printed with colorable notes." He also stated that the effect of the patents was to limit the circulation of the Scriptures; and that, if the patents were intended to protect the purity of the text, and improve the print- ing, they had certainly been pro- ductive of a very different result. This gave rise to an adventure that brought calamity on Faust. Having in 1450, begun an edition of the Bible, and finished it in 14C0, he carried several printed copies of it to Paris, and offered them for sale as manuscripts. This made him at once an object of suspicion. It was in those days when Satan was thought to be ready at every man's elbow, to offer his magic if called upon, and as the French could not conceive how so many books should perfectly agree in' every letter and point, they as- cribed it to infernal agency, and poor Faust had the misfortune to be thrown into prison. Here it was, that, in order to prove he had no aid from the devil, as well as to gain his liberty, he was obliged to reveal the secret, and show to the proper officers how the work was done. Perhaps it was upon this adven- ture that somebody built up the story of the league of the devil and Dr. Faustus, as well as wrote those ludicrous dialogues, which,in some of the puppet-shows, Faust, under the name of Dr. Faustus, is made to hold with the devil. THE FIRST PRINTED BOOK, OR THE DEVIL AND DR. FAUSTUS. The first printed book on record is the Book of Psalms, by one Faust, of Mentz, and his son-in- law, Schoeffer. It appeared in 1457, less than four hundred years ago. Several works were printed many years before, by Guttem- berg; but as the inventors wished to keep the secret to themselves, they sold their first printed works as manuscripts. FIRST ENGLISH PRINTING-PRESS. The first printing-press in Eng- land was set up in the almonry of Westminster, where Caxton, pro- bably encouraged by the learned Thomas Milling, then abbot, pro- duced the moral treatise entitled the Game and Playe of the Chesse, the first book printed in that coun- try. The ancient printing-house contains nothing of the interior appearance peculiar to its original 228 PRINTING AND PRINTERS. arrangement, having been for a long time let in tenements, and di- vided according to the convenience of the generation of lodgers that have inhabited it. cover an error. Each page was suffered to remain two weeks in the place where it had been post- ed, before the work was printed, and the printers thought that they had attained the object for which they had been striving. When the work was issued, it was dis- covered that several errors had been committed, one of which was in the first line of the first page. The Foulis' editions of classical works are still much prized by scholars and collectors. ATTEMPT TO PRINT A PERFECT BOOK. " Whether such a miracle as an immaculate edition of a classical author does exist," says one, " I have never learnt; but an attempt has been made to obtain this glori- ous singularity, and was as nearly realized as is perhaps possible- the magnificent edition of Os Lu- siadas of Camoens, by Don Joze Souza, in 1817. This amateur spared no prodigality of cost and labor, and flattered himself that, by the assistance of Didot, not a single typographical error should be found in that splendid volume. "But an error was afterwards discovered in some of the copies, occasioned by one of the letters in the word Lusitano having got misplaced during the working of one of the sheets. It must be confessed that this was an acci- dent or misfortune, rather than an erratum 1 " The celebrated Foulises, of Glasgow, attempted to publish a work which should be a perfect specimen of typographical accu- racy. Every precaution was taken to secure the desired result. Six experienced proof-readers were employed, who devoted hours to the reading of each page; and after it was thought to be perfect, it was posted up in the hall of the university, with a notification that a reward of fifty pounds would be paid to any person who could dis- BURNS IN A PRINTING OFFICE. The following anecdote is re- lated by Robert Chambers: "Meanwhile the preparation of the new edition was going rapidly on in the printing office of William Smellie-a man who, like Creech, mingled literary labors with those attending one of the trades of lit- erature. "There was a vast fund of knowledge, shrewdness, and talent under the rude exterior of Smellie. In his office, at the foot of Anchor Close, he had done typographic duty for Gilbert Stuart, Robert Fergusson, Dr. Robertson, Hugo Arnot, Adam Smith, and many others of the recent and living literati of Scotland, all of whom had been his personal friends. " His son, Alexander, who late- ly died at an advanced age, per- fectly remembered the visits of the Ayrshire Plowman to the composing-room, along which he would walk about three or four times, cracking a whip which he carried, to the no small surprise of the men. He paid no atten- tion to his own copy under their PRINTING AND PRINTERS. 229 hands, but looked at any other which he saw lying on the cases. " One day he asked a man how many languages he was acquaint- ed with. ' Indeed, sir,' replied the man, ' I've enough ado wi' my aim' Burns remarked that be- hind there was one of his com- panions setting up a Gaelic Bible, and another composing from a Hebrew Grammar. ' These two,' said the compositor, 'are the great- est dolts in the house.' Burns seemed amused by the remark, and said he would take a note of it. "Mr. Alexander Smellie also communicated the following anec- dote: There was a particular stool in the office, which Burns uni- formly occupied while correcting his proof-sheets; as he would not sit on any other, it always bore the name of Burns's stool. It is still (1844) in the office, and in the same situation where it was when Burns sat on it. "At this time, Sir John Dal- rymple was printing, in Mr. Smel- lie's office, an Essay on the Prop- erties of Coal Tar. One day it happened that Sir John occupied the stool, when Burns came into the correcting-room, looking for his favorite seat. It was known that what Burns wanted was his stool; but before saying anything to Sir John on the subject, Burns was requested to walk into the composing-room. " The opportunity was taken in his absence to request Sir John to indulge the bard with his favorite seat, but without men- tioning his name. Sir John said, 'I will not give up my seat to yon impudent, staring fellow.' Upon which it was replied, 'Do you know that that staring fellow, as you call him, is Burns, the poet?' Sir John instantly left the stool, exclaiming, ' Good gracious! Give him all the seats in your house!' Burns was then called in, took possession of his stool, and com- menced the reading of his proofs." The original memoirs of Cow- per, th* poet, were apparently- printed from an obscurely written manuscript. Of this there is a whimsical proof, where the Per- sian Letters of Montesquieu are spoken of, and the compositor, unable to decipher the author's name, has converted it into Mules Quince 1 A newspaper heads an adver- tisement, " Infernal Remedy." This may be quite true, but we imagine that " internal remedy " was intended. Mistakes, even of a single letter, are sad things. An important house in New York had occasion to advertise for sale a quantity of brass hop- pers, such as are used in coffee mills. But instead of brass hop- pers, the newspaper read grass- hoppers. In a short time the merchant's counting-room was thronged with inquiries respecting the new article of merchandise. The editor of the Evangelical Observer, in reference to an indi- vidual, took occasion to write that he was rectus in ecclesia, that is, in good standing in the church. The type-setter, to whom this was a dead language, in the editor's absence, converted it into rectus ERRORS OF THE PRESS. 230 PRINTING AND PRINTERS. in culina, which, although pretty good Latin, alters, in some degree, the sense, as it accorded to the reverend gentleman spoken of only a good standing in the kitchen. By a ridiculous error of the press, the Eclectic Review was ad- vertised as the Epileptic Review, and, on inquiry being made for it at a bookseller's shop, the biblio- pole replied: " He knew of no periodical called the Epileptic Re- view, though there might be such a publication coining out by fits and starts." sion on his behalf, and he at length succeeded. stationers' company. The Stationers' Company ex- isted as a fraternity long previous to the invention of printing. Some of its members, indeed, have ac- quired immortality by being among the first to introduce this new power into the world. Wynkyn de Worde, and Pynson, and " learned John Day," were all of the Stationers' Company. INTENTIONAL ERRATA. JEALOUSY OF BOOKSELLERS AND PRINTERS. Besides the ordinary mistakes which take place in printing, there are others which are some- times purposely committed, in order to have an opportunity of introducing into the Errata, what could not have been permitted in the body of the work. In those countries, for instance, where the Inquisition exists, and particu- larly in Rome, the use of the word Fatum, or Fata, in any printed work is forbidden. An author who wished to make use of the latter, adopted this scheme : He printed the word throughout his book Facta; and then, in the Errata, he placed a notice, For Facta, read Fata. A similar ex- pedient was resorted to by Scar- ron. He had composed some verses, to which he had prefixed a dedication in these words: " A Guillemette,chienne de ma soeur." Some time after, having quarreled with his sister, just as he was preparing for the press a collec- tion of his poems, he maliciously printed among the Errata of the book, For " Chienne de ma soeur," read " Ma chienne de soeur." Day, the printer, in Elizabeth's time, envied by the rest of his fraternity, who did what they could to hinder the sale of his books, had books upon his hands, in the year 1572, to the value of £3000 or £4000-a great sum in those days. But living under Aldersgate, an obscure corner of the city, he wanted a good vent for them. His friends, who were among the learned, from the dean and chapter of St. Paul's Churchyard, so that he had a neat, handsome shop framed. It was little and low, and flat- roofed, and leaded like a terrace, railed and posted, fit for men to stand upon in any triumph or show, but could not in any wise either hurt or deface the same. This cost him £40 or £50. But his brethren, the book- sellers, envied him, and, by their interest, got the mayor and aider- men to forbid him setting it up. Archbishop Parker interfered, and obtained the queen's permis- PUBLISHERS. 231 PUBLISHERS. THE HARPERS OF NEW YORK. seller, struggled in early life with innumerable difficulties. His own account of his first adventure as a bookseller is a good specimen of that spirit of indomitable perse- verance which is ever the fore- runner of success. He determined to set up that character in the town of Southwell, about fourteen miles from Nottingham. Here he accordingly opened a shop, with, as he expresses it, about twenty shillings' worth of trash' for all his stock. " I was," says he, " my own joiner, put up my shelves and furniture, and in one day became the most eminent bookseller in the place." Being employed, how- ever, during the other days of the week, in working at Nottingham as a bookbinder, he could only give his attendance at Southwell on Saturdays, that being besides, quite enough for the literary wants of the place. " Throughout a very rainy summer, I set out," says he, " at five every Saturday morning, carried a burden of from three pounds' weight to thirty, opened shop at ten, starved in it all day upon bread, cheese, and a half-pint of ale, took from one to six shillings, shut up at four, and, by trudging through the soli- tary night and the deep roads five hours more, I arrived at Notting- ham at nine, where I always found a mess of milk porridge by the fire, prepared by my valuable sis- ter." This humble attempt, how- ever, was the beginning of his prosperity. Next year he was In 1826, James and John Har- per worked as journeymen in a printing office in New York. They were distinguished, like Franklin, for industry, temper- ance, and economy. The well- known editor of the Albany Even- ing Journal worked as a journey- man printer at that time in the same establishment. " James," says he, " was our partner at the press. We were at work as soon as the day dawned; and though, on a pleasant summer afternoon, we used to sigh occasionally for a walk upon the Battery before sun- down, he never would allow the • balls to be capped ' until he had broken the back of the thirteenth ' token.' " What is the sequel ? The jour- neyman printer of 1826 has be- come the head of one of the first- if not the first-publishing houses in the world; a man of ample fortune, and enjoying the confi- dence of his fellow-citizens in an eminent degree. It was in 1844, that, in the city in which he was first known as a journeyman printer, his name was made the rallying cry of a new political party, whose irresistible enthusi- asm and overwhelming numbers, speedily elevated him to the chief magistracy of the great metropolis of the western world.-Arvine. WILLIAM HUTTON, THE BOOK- SELLER. William Hutton, well known in the literary world as a book- 232 PUNS AND ANAGRAMS. offered about two hundred pounds' weight of old books, on his note- of-hand, for twenty-seven shil- lings, by a Dissenting minister, to whom he was known; and upon this he immediately determined to break up his establishment at Southwell, and to transfer himself to Birmingham. He did. so, and succeeded so well, that by never suffering his expenses to exceed five shillings a-week, he found that by the end of the first year he had saved about twenty pounds. This, of course, enabled him to extend his business, which he soon made a very valuable one. Bir- mingham was to Hutton what Philadelphia was to Franklin. The first time he had evei' seen it was when he entered it after running away from his uncle's, a wearied and a homeless wanderer, with scarcely a penny in his pocket, and not a hope in the world to trust to. Yet in this place he was destined to acquire, some years after, an ample fortune, and to take his place among the most honored of its citizens. PUNS AND ANAGRAMS. A MONUMENTAL CONCEIT. Lady Eleanor Davies, the wife of the celebrated John Davies, the poet, was a very extraordinary character. She was the Cassandra of her age; and several of her predictions warranted her to con- ceive she was a prophetess. As her prophecies, in the troubled times of Charles I, were usually against the government, she was at length brought by them into the Court of High Commission. The prophetess was not a little mad, and fancied the spirit of Daniel was in her, from an ana- gram she had formed of her name: The following epitaph is on an old monument in St. Ann and St. Agnes Church: Qu an tris di c vul stra os guis ti ro um mere vit H san Chris mi c mu la In this distich, the last syllable in each word in the upper line is the same as that of each corres- ponding word in the last line, and is to be found in the centre. It reads thus: " Quos anguis tristi diro cum vulnere stravit, Hos sanguis Christi miro cum munere lavit. ' ' TRANSLATION. Eleanor Davies, • Reveal, 0 Daniel! "Those who have felt the serpent's venomed wound, In Christ s miraculous blood have healing found." The anagram had too much by an L, and too little by an S; yet Daniel and reveal were in it, and that was sufficient to satisfy her inspirations. The court attempted to dispossess the spirit from the lady, while the bishops were in Perhaps the happiest of ana- grams was that produced on a singular person and occasion. ELEANOR DAVIES. PUNS AND ANAGRAMS, 233 vain reasoning the point with her out of the Scriptures, to no pur- pose, she poising text against text. One of the deans of the arches, says Heylin, shot her through and through with an ar- row borrowed from her own quiv- er ; he took a pen, and at last hit upon this excellent anagram : centric Frenchman in the seven- teenth century, Andre Pujom. He read, in his own name, the anagram " Pendu a Riom" (the seat of crim- inal justice in the province of Au- vergne), felt impelled to fulfill his destiny, committed a capital offense in Auvergne, and was actually hung in the place to which the omen pointed. Dame Eleanor Davies, N ever so mad a ladie ! The happy fancy put the sol- emn court into laughter, and Cas- sandra into the utmost dejection of spirit. Foiled by her own weapons, her spirit suddenly for- sook her; and either she never afterwards ventured on prophesy- ing, or the anagram perpetually reminded her hearers of her state -and we hear no more of this prophetess! The following anagram on the original name of Napoleon I, the most renowned conqueror of the age in which he lived, may claim a place among the first productions of this class, and fully shows, in the transposition, the character of this extraordinary man, and points out that unfortunate ocurrence of his life which ultimately proved his ruin. Thus: " Napoleon Bona- parte" contains-"No, appear not on Elba." ON NAPOLEON. WILLIAM OLDYS. The following anagram on the well known bibliographer, Wil- liam Oldys, may claim a place among the first productions of this class. It was written by Oldys himself, and found by his execu-' tors in one of his manuscripts: "W. o. In word and WILL I AM a friend to you, And one friend OLD IS worth a hundred new." A singular pun is produced in the following words, which were inscribed on a tea-chest: "77w doces, which is the second person singular of the verb doceo,to teach, and, when literally translated, be- comes Thou Tea-Chest. TU DOCES. burney's anagram on nelson " PENDU A RIOM.V PUNNING IN FRENCH. Mr. Moore records in his diary of table-talk, as a specimen of French punning, that the follow- ing was among the Potierana lately published: " Il a 1'esprit seize" i.e., treize et trois (tres etroit). Mercer (says he) told me of a punster, who had so much the character of never opening his mouth without a pun, that one day, None of the anagrams of the sixteenth and seventeenth centu- ries exceed in felicity Dr. Bur- ney's on Lord Nelson : " Horatio Nelson, Honor est a Nilo." Of all the extravagances occa- sioned by the anagrammatic fever, when at its height, none probably equals what is recorded of an ec- 234 READING. upon his merely asking some one at dinner for a little spinage, the person stared, looked puzzled, and said, "Je vous demande pardon, monsieur, mais, pour cette fois,je ne comprend pas." The quickness of the French at punning arises (Mr. Moore adds) very much from their being such bad spellers. Not having the fear of orthog- raphy before their eyes, they have at least one restraint less upon their fancy in this sort of exercise. Among our collection of in- genious literary productions, Dean Swift's celebrated Latin puns de- serve a place; they will live with the language, for they have never been excelled. This species of composition consists of Latin words, and allowing for false spell- ing, and the running the words into each other, contain good sense in English as well as Latin. For example: "Apud in is almi de si re, Mitnis tres I ne ver re qui re, Alo veri findit a gestis, His miseri ne ver at restis " " A pudding is all my desire, My mistress I never require, A lover I find it a jest is, His misery never at rest is." 11 Mollis abuti. Has an acuti, No lasso finis, Omni de armistress, Cantu disco ver, Meas alo ver?" " Moll is a beauty, Has an acute eye, No lass so fine is, 0 my dear mistress, Can't you discover Me as a lover?" PUNNING IN LATIN. Thomas Moore notes in his di- ary, that dining at Bowie's, his host mentioned at some celebration at Reading school, when the pa- trons or governors of it (beer and brandy merchants), were to be welcomed with a Latin address, the boy appointed to the task, thus bespoke them, "Salvete, hospites selebeerimi," and then turning to the others, "Salvete, hospites cele- brandi." READING. ALFRED THE GREAT LEARNING TO READ. than by previous design. Judith, his step-mother, was sitting one day, surrounded by her family, with a book of Saxon poetry in her hands. With a happy judgment, she proposed it as a gift to him who would first learn to read it. The elder princes thought the re- ward inadequate to the task, and retired from the field of emulation. But the mind of Alfred, captivated by the prospect of information,and pleased with the neatness of the writing and the beauty of the illu- Alfred the Great ascended the throne in 872. Born when his country was involved in the most profound darkness and deplorable condition, and when learning was considered rather as a reproach than an honor to a prince, he was not taught to know one letter from another till he was above twelve years of age, when a book was put into his hand, by accident more READING. 235 minations, inquired if she actually intended to give it to the person who would soonest learn to read it. His mother repeating the promise, with a smile of joy at the ques- tion, he took the book, found out an instructor, and learned to read it, recited it to her, and received it for his reward. It is said that he imbibed such a passion for reading that he never stirred abroad .without a book in his bosom. He founded and endowed schools (among others Oxford), and brought teachers of learning from all parts of the world, pur- chased books, ordered the Bible to be translated into the Anglo- Saxon, undertaking the version of the Psalms himself, but did not live to complete it; and, in short, encouraged education and learning equally by precept and example. house, and give it to Mrs. Wil- liams.' "He was a singular looking man, remarkably quick in his move- ments, and had been a great war- rior; but in one of the numerous battles he had fought he had lost an eye. and, giving me an inex- pressible look with the other, he said : " 4 Take that 1 She will call me a fool, and scold me, if I carry a chip to her.' " 4 No,' I replied, 4 she will not; take it, and go immediately, for I am in haste.' 44 Perceiving me to be in earnest, he took it and asked- 44 4 What must I say ?' 44 I replied- " 4 You have nothing to say; the chip will say all I wish.' 44 With a look of astonishment and contempt, he held up the piece of wood, and said- 44 4 How can this speak? Has it a mouth ?' 441 desired him to take it imme- diately, and not spend so much time in talking about it. On ar- riving at the house, he gave it to Mrs. Williams, who read it, threw it away, and went to the tool-chest, whither the chief, resolving to see the result of this mysterious pro- ceeding, followed her closely. On receiving the square from her, he said- 44 4 Stay, daughter: how do you know that this is what Mr. Wil- liams wants ?' 44 4 Why,'she replied, 4 did you not give me a chip just now ?' 44 4 Yes,' said the astonished war- rior, 4 but I did not hear it say anything.' SOUTH SEA ISLANDER'S NOTION OE WRITING. The Rev. J. Williams, in his Narrative of Missionary Enter- prise, gives the following interest- ing anecdote: "In the erection of this chapel (at Rarotonga), a striking instance occurred of the feelings of an un- taught people, when observing, for the first time, the effects of written communications. As I had come to work one morning without my square, I took up a chip, and, with a piece of charcoal, wrote upon it a request that Mrs. Williams would send me that article. I called a chief, who was superintending his portion of the work, and said to him: " 4 Friend, take this, go to our 236 READING. " 1 If you did not, I did,' was the reply, ' for it made known to me what he wanted; and all you have to do is to return as fast as possible.' " With this the chief leaped out of the house, and catching up the mysterious piece of wood, he ran through the settlement with the chip in one hand and the square in the other, holding them up as high as his arm would reach, and shouting as he went- " ' See the wisdom of the Eng- lish people: they can make chips talk! they can make chips talk!' " On giving me the square, he wished to know how it was possi- ble thus to converse with,persons at a distance. I gave him all the information in my power; but it was a circumstance involved in so much mystery, that he actually tied a string to the chip, hung it around his neck, and wore it for some time. During several fol- lowing days, we frequently saw him surrounded by a crowd, who were listening with intense inter- est while he narrated the wonders which the chip had performed." works which he wished to know something of, and which he merely skimmed, or read once through. The first consisted of those which he meant to study, to read over again, or to consult as long as he lived ; these he took up continu- ally, one after another, in the order which he had ranged them, unless upon occasions where he only wanted to verify, to quote, or to imitate some passage. He had five libraries absolutely alike, and composed of the same books-at Potsdam, at old Sans Souci, at Berlin, at Charlottenburg, and at Breslau. When he removed from one of these residences to another, he had only to note how far he had got in a book, and on his ar- rival, he could proceed as though he were on the same spot. Hence he always bought five copies of every book that he wished to have. To the five libraries above men- tioned were afterwards added an- other in the new palace at Sans Souci, and a traveling library for the review time. The books be- longing to all these libraries were uniformly bound in red morocco, with gilt leaves. Each book had its particular place, and on the cover was a letter, denoting the library to which it belonged. FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS LIBRARIES. The principal amusement of Frederick's leisure hours, at all periods of his life, was his' library. The plan for his reading in gener- al, which he adopted in his youth, and to which he constantly ad- hered, was this : He divided all books that he chose to read into two classes-those for study and those for amusement. The second class, by far the more numerous of the two, comprehended all the Gibbon, the celebrated author of the Decline and Fall of the Ro- man Empire, has furnished a new idea in the art of reading. "We ought," says he, " not to attend to the order of our book, so much as of our thoughts. The perusal of a particular work gives birth, per- haps, to ideas unconnected with METHODICAL READING. READING. 237 the subject it treats ; I pursue these ideas and quit my proposed plan of reading." Thus, in the midst of Homer, he read Longinus; a chapter of Longinus led to an epistle of Pliny; and having finished Longinus, he followed the train of his ideas of the sublime and beautiful in the inquiry of Burke, and concluded with com- paring the ancient with the mod- ern Longinus. Of all our popular writers,the most experiencedread- er was Gibbon, and he offers im- portant advice to an author en- gaged on a particular subject: " I suspended my perusal of any new book on the subject till I had re- viewed all that I knew, orbelieved, or had thought on it, that I might be qualified to discern how much the authors added to my original stock." THOMAS HOOD THE HUMORIST ON THE BENEFITS OF READING. The secretaries of the Manches- ter Athenaeum bazaar committee addressed to Thomas Hood a re- quest that he would allow his name to be placed on the list of patrons of an approaching bazaar. To this request the secretaries re- ceived the following characteristic reply: " St. John's Wood, July 18,1843. (From my bed,) 17, Elm-tree Road. " Gentlemen-If my humble name can be of the least use for your purpose, it is heartily at your service, with my best wishes for the prosperity of the Man- chester Athenaeum, and my warm- est approval of the objects of that institution. " I have elsewhere recorded my own deep obligations to liter- ature ; that a natural turn for reading and intellectual pursuits probably preserved me from the moral shipwreck, so apt to befall those who are deprived in early life of the paternal pilotage. At the very least, my books kept me aloof from the ring, the dog-pit, the tavern, and the saloon, with their degrading orgies. For the closet associate of Pope and Ad- dison-the mind accustomed to the noble, though silent, discourse of Shakspeare and Milton-will hardly seek, or put up with, low company and slang. The read- ing animal will not be content with the brutish wallowings that satis- fy the unlearned pigs of the world. " Later experience enables me to depose to the comfort and bless- Pope says that from fourteen to twenty, he read only for amuse- ment ; from twenty to twenty- seven, for improvement and in- struction ; that in the first part of his time he desired only to know, and in the second he endeavored to judge. KNOWING AND JUDGING. Sir William Jones, when a mere child, was very inquisitive. His mother was a woman of great in- telligence, and he would apply to her for the information which he desired; but her constant reply ■was, " Read, and you will know." This gave him a passion for books, which was one of the principal means of making him what he was. a mother's advice. 238 READING. ing that literature can prove in seasons of sickness' and sorrow- how powerfully intellectual pur- suits can help in keeping the head from crazing and the heart from breaking-nay, not to be too grave, how generous mental food can even atone for a meagre diet- rich fare on the paper for short commons on the cloth. " Poisoned by the malaria of the Dutch marshes, my stomach, for many months, resolutely set itself against fish, flesh, or fowl; my appetite had no more edge than the German knife placed be- fore me. But, luckily, the mental palate and digestion were still sen- sible and vigorous; and whilst I passed, untasted, every dish at the Rhenish table d'hote, I could yet enjoy my Peregrine Pickle, and the feast after the manner of the ancients. There was no yearn- ing towards calf's head a la tortue, or sheep's heart; but I could still relish Head a la Brannen, and the Heart of Mid-Lothian. " Still more recently, it was my misfortune, with a tolerable appe- tite, to be condemned to lenten fare, like Sancho Panza, by my physician-to a diet, in fact, low- er than any prescribed by the poor-law commissioners; all ani- mal food, from a bullock to a rab- bit, being strictly interdicted; as well as all fluids stronger than that which lays dust, washes pina- fores, and waters polyanthus. But the ' feast of reason and the flow af soul' were still mine. De- nied beef, I had Bul-wev and Oow-per ; forbidden mutton, there was Lamb-and in lieu of pork, the great Bacon or Hogg. li Then, as to beverage, it was hard, doubtless, for a Christian to set his face, like a Turk, against the juice of the grape. But, es- chewing wine, I had still my But- ler ; and, in the absence of liquor, all the choice spirits from Tom Browne to Tom Moore. " Thus, though confined, physi- cally, to the drink that drowns kit- tens, I quaffed, mentally, not merely the best of our home-made, but the rich, racy, sparkling growths of France and Italy, of Germany and Spain-the cham- pagne of Moliere, and the Monte Pulciano of Boccaccio, the hock of Schiller, and the sherry of Cer- vantes. Depressed bodily by the fluid that damps every thing, I got intellectually elevated with Mil- ton, a little merry with Swift, or rather jolly with Rabelais, whose Pantagruel, by the way, is quite equal to the best gruel with rum in it. " So far can literature palliate or compensate for gastronomical privations. But there are other evils, great and small, in this world, which try the stomach less than the head, the heart, and the temper-bowls that will not roll right-well-laid schemes that will 1 gang aglee'-and ill winds that blow with the pertinacity of the monsoon. Of these Providence has allotted me a full share ; but still, paradoxical as it may sound, my burden has been greatly light- ened by a load of books. The man- ner of this will be best understood from a feline illustration. Every- body has heard of the two Kil- kenny cats, who devoured each other; but it is not so generally REPORTING AND REPORTERS. 239 known that they left behind them an orphan kitten, which, true to the breed, began to eat itself up, till it was diverted from the operation by a mouse. Now, the human mind, under vexation, is like that kitten, for it is apt to prey upon itself, unless drawn off by a new object; and none better for the purpose than a book ; for example, one of Defoe's ; for who, in read- ing his thrilling History of the Great Plague, would not be re- conciled to a few little ones ? " Many, many a dreary, weary hour have I got over-many a gloomy misgiving postponed- many a mental or bodily annoy- ance forgotten, by help of the tragedies and comedies of our dra- matists and novelists 1 Many a trouble has been soothed by the still, small voice of the moral phi- losopher - many a dragon-like care charmed to sleep by the sweet song of the poet; for all which I cry incessantly, not aloud, but in my heart, Thanks and hon- or to the glorious masters of the pen, and the great inventors of the press ! " Such has been my own expe- rience of the blessing and comfort of literature and intellectual pur- suits ; and of the same mind, doubtless, was sir Humphry Da- vy, who went for ' consolations in Travel,' not to the inn or the post- ing house, but to his library and his books. I am, gentlemen, yours, very truly, Tuos. Hood." REPORTING AND REPORTERS. WILBERFORCE AND MORGAN O'SULLIVAN. "Has anything happened?" was his first question to his friend. "To be sure there has," said the other, whose name was Mor- gan O'Sullivan. " Has there, by the powers ?" exclaimed Jack, pricking up his ears in the plentitude of his anx- iety to learn what it was. " Yes, Jack, and very import- ant, too." "And why don't you be after telling it me at once ? What was it about?" "About the virtue of the Irish potato, Jack. " Was it the Irish potato, you said, Morgan ? " A certain popular debate, which, was about English laborers, being one evening unusually dull, Jack Finnarty, who had but a short time before been imported from Tipperary, said to the only other reporter in the gallery at the time, that he felt very drowsy, and that he would be after taking a little bit of a nap, if he would tell him, when he awoke, anything which might take place. The other agreed, and Jack, in a moment, was fast locked in the arms of Morpheus. An hour elapsed, and after half a dozen yawns, Jack opened his eyes. 240 REPORTING AND REPORTERS. " The Irish potato, and a most eloquent speech it was." " Thunder and lightning, then, and why don't you tell it me ? " " I'll read it from my note-book, Jack, and you'll take it down as I go on," said Morgan. " Och, it's myself, sure, that's ready at any time to write what any mimber says about our praties. Are you ready to begin ? " " Quite ready," answered Mor- gan. " Now, then," said Jack, -with an energy which strangely contrasted with the previous languor of his manner - " now, then, Morgan, mi boy." Morgan, affecting to read from his note-book, commenced thus: " The honorable member said,that if-" " Och, be aisy a little bit," in- terrupted Jack; " who was the honorable mimber ?' Morgan, hesitating for a mo- ment- "Was it his name you asked ? Sure it was Mr. Wilber- force." " Mr. Wilberforce 1 Och, very well, then." Morgan resumed. "Mr. Wil- berforce said, that it always ap- peared to him beyond all ques- tion that the great cause why the Irish laborers were, as a body, so much stronger and capable of enduring so much greater fatigue than the English, was the supass- ing virtues of their potato. And he-" " Morgan, my dear fellow," shouted Jack, at the mention of the Irish potato, his countenance lighting up with ecstasy as he spoke-" Morgan, my dear fellow, this is so important that we must give it in the first person." " Do you think so?" said Mor- gan. " Throth, and I do," answered Jack. "Very well," said the other. Morgan then resumed: "And I have no doubt, continued Mr. Wilberforce, that had it been my lot to be born and reared in-" " Did the mimber say reared ?" interrupted Jack exultingly, evi- dently associating the word with the growth of potatoes in his " own blessed country." " He said ' reared,' " observed the other, who then resumed: " Had it been my lot to be born and reared in Ireland, where my food would have principally consis- ted of the potato-that most nutri- tious and salubrious root,-instead of tjeing the poor, infirm, shrivel- ed and stunted creature you, sir, and honorable gentlemen, now be- hold me, I would have been a tall, stout, athletic man, and able to carry an enormous weight." Here Jack Finnarty observed, looking his friend eagerly in the face, " Faith, Morgan, and that's what I call thrue eloquence ! Go on." " I hold that root to be invalu- able ; and the man who first culti- vated it in Ireland I regard as a benefactor of the first magnitude to his species. And my decided opinion is, that never, till we grow potatoes in England, in sufficient quantities to feed all our laborers, will those laborers be so able- bodied a class as the Irish. (Hear, hear! from both sides of the house.") REPORTING AND REPORTERS. 241 "Well, by St. Patrick, but that bates everything," observed Jack, on finishing his notes. " That's rare philosophy. And the other mimbers cried ' Hear, hear,' did they ?" " The other members cried ' Hear, hear,'" answered Morgan. In a quarter of an hour after- wards the house rose. Morgan went away direct to the office of the paper for which he was em- ployed ; while Jack, in perfect ecstasies at the eulogium which had been pronounced on the vir- tue of the potatoes of " ould Ire- land," ran in breathless haste to a public house, where the reporters, who should have been on duty for the other morning papers, were assembled. He read over his notes to them, which they copied verba- tim; and not being, at the time, in the best possible condition for judging of the probability of Mr. Wilberforce delivering such a speech, they repaired to their re- spective offices, and actually gave a copy of it into the hands of the printer. Next morning it appear- ed in all the papers, except the one with which Morgan O'Sulli- van was connected. The sensa- tion and surprise it created in town exceeded everything. Had it on- ly appeared in one or two of the papers, persons of ordinary intel- ligence must at once have conclu- ded that there was some mistake about the matter. But its ap- pearing in all the journals except one, forced, as it were, people to the conclusion that it must have been actually spoken. The infer- ence was plain. Everybody, while regretting that the necessity should exist, saw that no other course was left but to put Mr. Wilberforce at once into a strait jacket, and provide him with a keeper. In the evening, the house met as usual, and Mr. Wilber- force, on the speaker taking the chair, rose and begged the indul- gence of the house for one mo- ment to a matter which concern- ed it, as well as himself, personal- ly. " Every honorable member," he observed, " has doubtless read the speech which I am represent- ed as having made on the previ- ous night. With the permission of the house, I will read it. (Here the honorable member read the speech amidst deafening roars of laughter.) I can assure honora- ble members that no one could have read this speech with more surprise than I myself did this morning, when I found the paper on my breakfast table. For my- self, personally, I care but little about it, though, if I were capable of uttering such nonsense as is here put into my mouth, it is high time that, instead of being a mem- ber of this house, I were an in- mate of some lunatic asylum. It is for the dignity of this house that I feel concerned ; for if hon- orable members were capable of listening to such nonsense, suppos- ing me capable of giving express- ion to it, it were much more appropriate to call this a thea- ter for the performance of farces, than a place for the legislative de- liberations of the representatives of the nation." It was proposed by some mem- bers to call the printers of the different papers in which the 242 REPORTING AND REPORTERS. speech appeared to the bar of the house, for a breach of privilege ; but the matter was eventually al- lowed to drop. of a clew to repel, such an inter- ruption of the rules and orders of Parliament. The house was in a roar. Pitt, it is said, could hard- ly keep his seat for laughing. When the bustle and the confusion were abated, the sergeant-at-arms went into the gallery to take the audacious culprit into custody, and indignantly desired to know who it was; but nobody would tell. Mark sat like a tower on the hindermost bench of the gallery, imperturbable in his own gravity, and safe in the faith of the broth- erhood of reporters, who alone were in the secret. At length, as the mace-bearer was making fruit- less inquiries, and getting impa- tient, Supple pointed to a fat Qua- ker, who sat in the middle of the crowd, and nodded assent that he was the man. The Quaker was, to his great surprise, taken into immediate custody; but after a short altercation and some further explanation, he was released, and the hereof our story put in his place for an hour or two, but let off on an assurance of his contrition, and of showing less wit and more discre- tion in future. THE HUMOROUS REPORTER MARK SUPPLE. Mark took his wine frequently at Bellamy's, and then went up into the gallery and reported like a gentleman and a man of genius. The members hardly knew their own speeches again ; but they ad- mired his free and bold manner of dressing them up. None of them ever went to the printing- office of the Morning Chronicle, to complain that the tall Irishman had given a lame, sneaking ver- sion of their sentiments. They pocketed the affront of their met- amorphosis, and fathered speeches they had never made. His way was the hyperbole; a strong spice of Orientalism, with a dash of the bogtrotter. His manner seemed to please, and he presumed upon it. One evening, as he sat at his post in the gallery, waiting the is- sue of things, and a hint to hang his own tropes and figures upon, a dead silence happened to pre- vail in the house. It was when Mr. Addington was speaker. The bold leader of the press-gang was never bent upon serious business much, and at this time he was particularly full of meat and wine. Delighted, therefore, with the pause, but thinking that some- thing might as well be going for- ward, he called out lustily, "A song from Mr. Speaker." Imag- ine Addington's long, prim, up- right figure, his consternation, and utter want of preparation for, or JOHN PROBY. John Proby had never been out of London, never in a boat, never on the back of a horse. To the end of bagwigs he wore a bag; he was the last man that walked with a cane as long as himself, ultimately exchanged for an um- brella, which he was never seen without in wet weather or dry; yet he usually reported the whole debates in the Peers from memory, without a note, for the Morning REPORTING AND REPORTERS. 243 Chronicle, and wrote two or three novels, depicting the social man- ners of the times. He was a strange feeder, and ruined himself in eating pastry at the confection- ers' shops, (for one of whose scores Taylor and I bailed him) ; he was always in a perspiration, whence George christened him " King Porusand he was always so punctual to a minute that when he arrived in sight of the office window, the hurry used to be " There's Proby - it is half-past two," and yet he never set his watch. If ever it came to right time, I cannot tell; but if you asked him what o'clock it was, he would look at it, and calculate something in this sort - "I am twenty-six minutes past seven- four, twenty-one from twelve forty - it is just three minutes past three ! " Poor, strange, and sim- ple, yet curiously-informed Proby, his last domicile was the Lambeth parish workhouse, out of which he would come in his coarse gray garb, and call upon his friends as freely and unceremoniously as be- fore, to the surprise of servants, who entertain " an 'orrid " jeal- ousy of paupers, and who could not comprehend why a person so clad was shown in. The last let- ter I had from him spoke exult- ingly of his having been chosen to teach the young children in the house their ABC, which con- ferred some extra accommodations upon him. Among my other co- adjutors were Mr. Robinson, edu- cated for the Kirk, and a quiet man; and Mr. Cooper, the author of a volume of poetry, which pro- cured him the countenance of the beautiful Duchess of Devonshire; and Mark Supple, an Irish eccen- tric of the first water.-Jer dan's Autobiography. THE FIRST PARLIAMENTARY REPORTS. The first attempt at a monthly publication of the parliamentary debates was made in the Gentle- man's Magazine,for August, 1735; and the practice was continued in succeeding numbers. The reports were of the most timid and cau- tious description, the names of the speakers being given only by the first and last letters, and, in many cases, no speaker's name is men- tioned ; all that appears is a sum- mary of the argument and discus- sion. They got bolder by degrees, and at last published the names at full length. This audacity, coup- led with the fact that some of the members appeared in a light not very satisfactory to themselves, either from their own defects, or the incorrect version of their ora- tory, caused the attention of the Commons to be drawn to the sub- ject. It was brought under no- tice, April 13,1738, by the speak- er, who was followed by Yonge, Windham, and Sir Thomas Win- nington. The last concluded a very angry speech with these words: " Why, sir, you will have the speeches of this house every day printed, even during your ses- sion ; and we shall be looked upon as the most contemptible assembly on the face of the earth." The result was a thundering resolution, unanimously agreed to, declaring it " a high indignity to, and a no- torious breach of, the privileges 244 REPORTING AND REPORTERS. of the house to publish the de- bates, either while Parliament is sitting, or during the recess," and threatening to proceed against of- fenders " with the utmost severi- ty." Accounts of parliamentary business were now obtained with greater risk, and various contriv- ances wrere employed to disguise a version of them. The Gentle- man's Magazine published them under the title of the " Debates of the Senate of Lilliput," and the London Magazine under that of a " Journal of the Proceedings and Debates in the Political Club giving Roman names to the speak- ers, while each publication printed an explanatory key at the end of the year. The two gentlemen principally occupied in this mys- tification were William Gurthrie and Thomas Gordon, both Scotch- men. About this time, Dr. John- son arrived in London, and was immediately engaged by the edi- tor of the Gentleman's Magazine (Cave), in the composition of the parliamentary debates. Gurthrie, who had a good memory, brought home as much as he could recol- lect from the house, mending his draught by whatever other assist- ance he could command; after w'hich, the matter thus collected underwent the finishing touches of Johnson. At times, according to Boswell, Johnson had no other aid than the names of the speak- ers, and the side they took, being left to his own resources for the argument and language. A speech - the celebrated speech, com- mencing, " The atrocious crime of being a young man," which he put into the mouth of Pitt, when that distinguished orator replied to the taunts of Walpole - Johnson af- terwards declared, in the company of Francis, Wedderburn, Foote, and Murphy, that he " wrote in a garret in Exetei' Street." His reports, however, are considered by the editor of Hansard's Par- liamentary History, the most au- thentic extant, faithfully embody- ing the argument, if not the style, of the speakers. It was once ob- served to him, that he dealt out reason and eloquence with an equal hand to both parties. "That is not quite true," said Johnson ; " I saved appearances pretty well; but I took care that the Whig dogs should not have the best of it." The reports increased im- mensely the sale of the magazines; they enabled Cave to set up an equipage, on the door-panel of which, instead of a crest, he had painted a representation of his office at St. John's Gate, Clerken- well, where Johnson sometimes ate his dinner, concealed behind a screen, not having suitable clothes to appear before the more modish visitors of his employer; some of them, perhaps, members of the house, who dropped in to see or correct the maiden proofs of their oratory in the senate. LORD LOUGHBOROUGH. Mr. Wedderburn, afterwards Lord Loughborough, was once asked whether he really delivered in the House of Commons, a speech which the newspapers as- cribed to him. " Why, to be sure," said he, " there are many things ROYAL SOCIETY OF LONDON. 245 in that speech which I did say, and there are more which I wish I had said." and faithful account of w'hat had taken place, extending to sixteen columns, without allowing himself an interval of rest. The remark- able exertions of this most famous reporter gave the newspaper for which he wrote a celebrity which compelled other newspapers to aim at the same fullness and freshness in their parliamentary reports. What Woodfall accomplished by excessive bodily and mental exer- tion, his cotemporaries succeeded in bringing to a higher degree of perfection by the division of labor; and thus, in time, each morning newspaper had secured the assist- ance of an efficient body of re- porters, each of whom might, in turn, take notes of a debate, and commit a portion of it to the press several hours before the whole de- bate was concluded. Mr. William Woodfall, the son of the celebrated printer of the Public Advertiser, in which the Letters of Junius first appeared, undertook, without any assistance, the arduous task of reporting the debates of both houses of Parlia- ment, day by day, in his father's paper, and afterward in other daily journals. This gentleman possessed a most extraordinary memory, as well as wonderful powers of literary labor. It is asserted that he has been known to sit through a long debate of the House of Commons, not making a single note of the proceedings, and afterwards to write out a full REPORTING FROM MEMORY. ROYAL SOCIETY OF LONDON. ITS MACE. the famous " bauble." It was even figured in the Abbotsford edition of Woodstock as being the mace which belonged to the Long Parliament. Mr. Weld, in his History of the Royal Society, has dispelled this pleasing illusion, he having not only traced the history of the " bauble " mace, but dis- covered the warrant for preparing the new one as a gift to the So- ciety. "We cannot forbear ob- serving," he says, " that though the mace may not be as curious as before to the antiquary, divest- ed as it now is of its fictitious his- torical interest, yet it is much more to be respected ; for surely The mace of the Royal Society, made of silver, weighing 149 oz. avoirdupois, was presented by the King, along with its second char- ter, in 1663. Of late years it ac- quired from another source a pres- tige which has been dissipated in a manner not unlike that of the " pretorium " in the Antiquary. It was long the popular belief, Sir D. Brewster mentions, in the N. Brit. Review, that this was the mace ordered by Cromwell out of the House of Commons, and num- berless visitors came to the apart- ments of the Royal Society to see 246 ROYAL SOCIETY OF LONDON. a mace designated a ' bauble,' and spurned from the 'House of Com- mons, by a republican, will scarce- ly be an appropriate gift to the Royal Society." Still, it w'ould be a cherished national relic of the time of Old Knoll, who rises in popular estimation as the char- acter of Charles II sinks. tions, and Sir Walter Scott has given it as his opinion, that the establishment of the Royal Socie- ty tended greatly to destroy the belief in witchcraft and supersti- tion generally. The discontin- uance of " touching " for scrofula, or "king's evil," by the royal hand, was due to the same wholesome influence, although this supersti- tion held out the longest. Dr. Samuel Johnson was "touched" by Queen Anne so late as 1712. SCIENCE AND SUPERSTITION. This great scientific body was established in 16G0, deriving its origin from previous societies of learned men, who met together for the discussion of subjects of science and art. The meetings were sometimes held at Dr. God- dard's lodgings in Wood Street, where he kept an operator for grinding lenses; sometimes at the Bull Head Tavern in Cheapside ; and sometimes at Gresham Col- lege. Amongst the celebrated names connected with the proceed- ings of the infant association, are those of Boyle, Evelyn, Cowley the poet, and Wren the architect. One result of its labors was re- markable. During the civil war, no fewer than eighty persons were executed in Suffolk for witchcraft; and, in 1649, fourteen men and women were burned for witchcraft in a little village near Berwick, where the entire population con- sisted only of fourteen families. It is stated by Hutchinson that there were but two witches exe- cuted in England after the Royal Society published their Transac- TRANSFUSION OF BLOOD. In the year 1G67, the Royal Society successfully performed the experiment of transfusing the blood of a sheep into a man in perfect health. The subject of the experiment was Arthur Coga, who, as Pepys says, was a kind of minister, and, being in want of money, hired himself for a guinea. Drs. Lower and King performed the experiment, injecting twelve oz. of sheep's blood, without pro- ducing any inconvenience. The patient drank a glass or two of Canary, took a pipe of tobacco, and went home with a stronger and fuller pulse than before. The experiment was in a day or two afterward repeated on Coga, when fourteen oz. of sheep's blood was substituted for eight oz. of his own. Pepys went to see him, and heard him give an account in Latin of the operation and its effects. SAVANS OF FRANCE. 247 SAVANS OF FRANCE. Place's physiognomy without be- ing convinced that he was a very extraordinary man." " La Place, when a minister of Napoleon, was rather formal and grand in manner, with an air of protection rather than of cour- tesy. He spoke like a man not merely feeling his own power, but wishing that others should be im- mediately conscious of it. I have heard, from good authority, that he was exceedingly proud of his orders, and that he had the star of the order of Reunion affixed to his dressing-gown. This was in 1813. In 1820, when I saw him again, his master had fallen. His manners were altered. He was become mild and gentlemanlike, and had a softer tone of voice, and more grace in the forms of salutation. I remember the first day I saw him, which was, I be- lieve, in November, 1813. On my speaking to him of the atomic theory in chemistry, and express- ing my belief that the science would ultimately be referred to mathematical laws, similar to those which he had so profoundly and successfully established with re- spect to the mechanical properties of matter, he treated my idea in a tone bordering on contempt, as if angry that any results in chemis- try could, even in their future possibilities, be compared with his own labors. When I dined with him, in 1820, he discussed the same opinion with acumen and candor, and allowed all the merit of John Dalton. It is true our The following reminiscences of Cuvier, Humboldt, Gay-Lussac, Berthollet, and La Place, are from memoranda by Sir Humphry Davy: " Cuvier had even in his address and manner the character of a superior man ; much general pow- er and eloquence in conversation, and a great variety of information on scientific as well as popular subjects. I should say of him, that he is the most distinguished man of talents I have known ; but I doubt if he is entitled to the ap- pellation of a man of genius." " De Humboldt was one of the most agreeable men I have ever known ; social, modest, full of in- telligence, with facilities of every kind: almost too fluent in conver- sation. His travels display his spirit of enterprise. His works are monuments of the variety of his knowledge and resources." " Gay-Lussac was quick, live- ly, ingenious, and profound, with great activity of mind, and great facility of manipulation. I should place him at the head of the liv- ing chemists of France." " Berthollet was a most ami- able man; when the friend of Napoleon even, always good, con- ciliatory, and modest, frank and candid. He had no airs, and many graces. In every way be- low La Place in intellectual pow- ers, he appeared superior to him in moral qualities. Berthollet had no appearance of a man of genius; but one could not look on La 248 SCIENCE-ITS TRIUMPHS.-SCIENTIFIC ADVENTURE. positions had changed. He was now among the old aristocracy of France, and was no longer the intellectual head of the new aris- tocracy ; and, from a young and humble aspirant to chemical glory, I was about to be called, by the voice of my colleagues, to a chair which had been honored by the last days of Newton." SCIENCE-ITS TRIUMPHS. It has lengthened life; it has mitigated pain ; it has extinguish- ed diseases ; it has increased the fertility of the soil; it has given new securities to the mariner; it has furnished new arms to the warrior; it has spanned great riv- ers and estuaries with bridges of form unknown to our fathers; it has guided the thunderbolt in- nocuously from heaven to earth ; it has lighted up the night with the splendor of the day; it has extended the range of the human vision ; it has multiplied the power of the human muscles ; it has ac- celerated motion; it has annihi- lated distance; it has facilitated intercourse, correspondence, all friendly offices, all dispatch of business; it has enabled man to descend to the depths of the sea, to soar into the air, to penetrate securely into the noxious recesses of the earth, to traverse the land in cars which whirl along without horses, and the ocean in ships which run ten knots an hour against the wind. These are but a part of its fruits, and of its first fruits. For it is a philosophy which never' rests, which has never attained, which is never perfect. Its law is progress. A point which yesterday was invisible is its goal to-day, and will be its'starting-post to-mo rro w.-Macaulay. SCIENTIFIC ADVENTURE. ASCENT OF THE JUNGFRAU. Desor, and Duchatelies; of the lat- ter, Jacob Leutvold (who ascend- ed the Finster Aarhorn), Johan Jannon, Melchior Baucholzer, and Andreas Aplanalp. They left the Grimsel on the morning of the 27th of August, 1841, ascended the whole height of the Ober-Aar Glacier, and descended the greater part of that of Viesch. ' Crossing a col to the right, they slept at the chalet of Aletsch, near the In 1841, Professor Forbes, along with M. Agassiz, and others, made a successful ascent of the great Swiss mountain, the Jung- frau, whose summit is 13,720 feet above the level of the sea. Of six travelers and seven guides who formed the party, four of each reached the top, viz: of the former, MM. Forbes, Agassiz, SCIENTIFIC ADVENTURE. 249 lake of that name. This was twelve hours' hard walking, the descent of the glaciers being diffi- cult and fatiguing. Next day the party started at six A. M., having been unable sooner to procure a ladder? to cross the crevasses; they then traversed the upper part of the glacier of Aletsch in its whole extent for four hours and a half, until the ascent of the Jungfrau began. The party crossed with great caution extensive and steep fields of fresh snow, concealing crevass- es, till they came to one which opened vertically, and behind which rose an excessively steep wall of hardened snow. Hav- ing crossed the crevasses with the ladder, they ascended the snow without much danger, owing to its consistency. After some similar walking they gained the col which separates the Aletsch Glacier from the Rothal, on the side of Lauterbrunnen, by which the ascent has usually been at- tempted. Thus, the travelers, al- though now ata height of between 12,000 and 13,000 feet, had by far the hardest and most perilous part of the ascent to accomplish. The whole upper part of the mountain presented a steep, in- clined surface of what at first seemed snow, but which soon ap- peared to be hard ice. This slope was not less than 800 or 900 feet in perpendicular height, and its surface (which Professor Forbes measured several times with a clinometer), in many places rose at 45 degrees, and in few much less; and all Alpine travelers know well what an inclined sur- face of 45 degrees is to walk up. Of course, every step taken was cut with a hatchet, whilst the slope terminated below, on both sides, in precipices some thousand feet high. After very severe ex- ertion, they reached the top of this great mountain at four P. M. The summit was so small that but one person could stand upon it at once, and that not until the snow had been flattened. The party returned as they came up, step by step, and backwards, and arrived at the chalet of Aletsch, and by beautiful moonlight, at half-past eleven at night. PROFESSOR FORBES IN THE ALPS. Strange incidents befell Pro- fessor Forbes and his compan- ions, in their travels through the Alps of Savoy. On one occasion, they got so near a thunder-cloud, as to be highly electrified by induc- tion, with all the angular stones round them hissing like points near a powerful electric machine; on another, whilst crossing one of the loftiest passes, the Col de Col- lon, they discovered a dark object lying on the snow, which proved to be the body of a man, with the clothes hard-frozen and uninjured. "The effect on us all," says the Professor, " was electric; and had not the sun shone forth in its full glory, and the very wilderness of eternal snow seemed gladdened under the serenity of such a sum- mer's day, as is rare at these heights, we should certainly have felt a deeper thrill, arising from the sense of personal danger. As it was, when we had recovered our first surprise, and interchanged 250 SCIENTIFIC MEN. our expression of sympathy for the poor traveler, and gazed with awe on the disfigured relics of one who had so lately been in the same plight with ourselves, we turned and surveyed, with a stronger sense of sublimity than before, the desolation by which we were surrounded ; and became still more sensible of our isolation from human dwellings, human help, and human sympathy, our loneliness with nature, and as it were, the more immediate pres- ence of God." SCIENTIFIC MEN. NAPOLEON'S SAVANS IN EGYPT. When I mentioned to Madame de Souza what he said about the concoction of the memoir, she told me it was all done too in the pres- ence of the Emperor!" After- ward meeting with Baron Hum- boldt, that distinguished philoso- pher "spoke contemptuously of the great government work as a confused heap of common-places ; Fourrier's a pompous preface with nothing in it. Said thte Egyptians were blackish, with good aquiline noses ; the Sphynx a negro face. Asked him if he thought Cleo- patra was 'blackish?' 'Yes, cer- tainly.' " During the Egyptian campaign, no sooner were the Mameluke horse descried than the word was given, "Form square; artillery to the angles; asses and savans the centre; " a command which afforded no small merriment to the soldiers, and made them call the asses demi-savans.-Alison. HUMBOLDT AND THE FRENCH SAVANS IN EGYPT. In the diary of Thomas Moore appears the following notice of the great work which was the joint production of the savans who accompanied Napoleon to Egypt: "Aug., 1820.-Went to call on Madame de Souza, for the purpose of being taken by her to the Institute. Was received there with much kindness by M. Four- rier, one of the Egyptian savans, and author of the ' Memoire ' pre- fixed to the great work on Egypt. He said that he merely held the pen, for that every word in it was dispute among the whole number of those on the expedition, and that it was the result of their col- lected knowledge on the subject. DR. WHEWELL AND THE COL- LEGE "DONS." Dr. Whewell's accession to the Mastership of Trinity might well have been an era in the history of that " royal and religious founda- tion." The new head was a gen- tleman of most commanding per- sonal appearance, and the very sound of his powerful voice be- tokened no ordinary man. He was a remarkably good rider even in a country of horsemen, and the anecdote was often told, and not altogether repudiated by him, SCIENTIFIC MEN. 251 how, in his younger days, about the time of his ordination, a pugil- ist, in whose company he acci- dentally found himself while trav- eling, audibly lamented that such lusty thews and sinews should be thrown away on a parson. With these physical advantages was combined a knowledge almost lit- erally universal. Some people are said to know a little of every- thing ; he might be truly said to know a great deal of everything. Second Wrangler of his year, Professor of Mineralogy, and af- terward of Moral Philosophy, author of a Bridgewater Treatise, and writer on a diversity of sub- jects, scientific and ethical, he kept up his classics to an extent unusual for a scientific man, and did not neglect the lighter walks of literature. His name is on the list of the Cambridge prize poets, and is also known in con- nection with several translations from the German. In conversa- tion it was scarcely possible to start a subject without finding him at home in it. A story is current about him, not absolutely authen- ticated, but certainly of the se non vero ben trovato sort, that some of the Dons who were tired of hearing him explain everything, and enlighten everybody in Com- bination-room, laid a trap to catch him in this wise: They deter- mined to get themselves up thor- oughly in some out-of-the-way topic, and introduce it, as if by accident, on the first convenient occasion. Accordingly they pitch- ed upon something connected with China, either (for there are two versions of the story) Chinese musical instruments or the Chi- nese game of chess. Various old books, and particularly a certain volume of a certain cyclopaedia, were dragged out of their dusty repose and carefully perused. Next Sunday, when the College dignitaries and some stranger guests were marshaled over their port and buscuit, the conspira- tors thoroughly primed, and with their parts artistically distributed, watched their time and adroitly introduced the prepared topic. One after the other they let drop most naturally a quantity of strange erudition, marvelously astounding, no doubt, to the small- college Dons present, and appar- ently puzzling to the object of attack, for he actually remained silent for a full quarter of an hour, till, just as the parties were congratulating themselves on their success, he turned to the princi- pal speaker, and remarked, " O, I see you've been reading the arti- cle I wrote for such a cyclopaedia in such a year!" They gave it up after that.-Bristed's Five Years in an English Univer- sity. YOUTHFUL PURSUITS OF GA- LILEO. The early years of Galileo were spent in the construction of in- strumentsand pieces of machinery, which were calculated chiefly to amuse himself and his schoolfel- lows. Sir David Brewster, in mentioning this fact, remarks that in this respect the early life of the future astronomer, resembled that of almost all great experi- mental philosophers. 252 SCIENTIFIC AND LITERARY PURSUITS OF AGE. GALILEO'S ABJURATION. came his accuser; and in 1633, Galileo was again summoned be- fore the Inquisition, and put upon his trial for holding and teaching the heretical opinion. He again abjured the doctrine, kneeling be- fore the assembled cardinals, and clothed in sackcloth of a peni- tent criminal. Laying his hands upon the gospels, he invoked the Divine aid in abjuring and detest- ing, and vowing never again to teach, the doctrine of the earth's motion, and of the sun's stability. When he rose from his knees, he stamped on the ground and said in a whisper to a friend, " E pur si muove" "It does move, though." Having signed his recantation, he was, in conformity to his sentence, confined in the prison of the In- quisition. In the year 1615, Galileo was called to account by the Inquisi- tion at Rome for maintaining the motion of the earth and the sta- bility of the sun, and teaching and promulgating this doctrine. He was enjoined by Cardinal Bellarmine to renounce this opin- ion as heretical, and it was de- creed that if he refused he should be cast into prison. The astron- omer appeared before the cardi- nal, and declared that he aban- doned the doctrine of the earth's motion, and should cease to propa- gate it. Under the pontificate of Urban VIII, however, he began anew to teach the doctrine of the earth's motion. This pope had once been his friend, but now be- SCIENTIFIC AND LITERARY PURSUITS OF AGE. eighty years old, and at the age of eighty-two was still the great Ar- nauld. Sir Henry Spelman neglected the sciences in his youth, but cul- tivated them at fifty years of age, and produced good fruit. His early years were chiefly passed in farming, ■which greatly diverted him from his studies ; but a remark- able disappointment respecting a contested estate disgusted him with these rustic occupations. Re- solved to attach himself to regular studies and literary society, he sold his farms, and became the most learned antiquary and law- yer. " In my eightieth year" (writes Baron Humboldt, in the Aspects of Nature, 1849), "I am still en- abled to enjoy the satisfaction of completing a third edition of my work, remoulding it entirely to meet the requirements of the pres- ent time." The Nestor of science is now (1854) engaged in com- pleting his Cosmos. HUMBOLDT. ARNAULD AND SPELMAN. The great Arnauld retained the vigor of his genius, and the com- mand of his pen, to his last day. Ho translated Josephus when SCIENTIFIC AND LITERARY PURSUITS OF AGE. 253 JOHNSON, CHAL'CER, CELLINI, AND FRANKLIN. represented in a go-cart, with an hour-glass upon it; the inscription Ancora impara 1-Yet I am Learning 1 Sir Christopher Wren retired from public life at eighty-six; and after that he spent five years in literary, astronomical, and re- ligious engagements. Dr. Franklin exhibited a strik- ing instance of the influence of reading, writing and conversation, in prolonging a sound and active state of all the faculties of the mind. In his eighty-fourth year he discovered no one mark in any of them of the weakness of decay usually observed in the minds of persons at that advanced period of life. Accorso, a great lawyer, being asked why he began the study of the law so late, answered, that in- deed he began it late, but should therefore master it the sooner. Dr. Johnson applied himself to the Dutch language but a few years before his death. In one morning of advanced life, he amused himself by committing to memory 800 lines of Virgil. At the age of seventy-three, when staggering under an immediate attack of paralysis - sufficiently severe to render him speechless- he composed a Latin prayer, in order to test the loss or retention of his mental faculties. Chaucer's Canterbury Tales were the composition of his latest years. They were begun in his fifty-fourth year, and finished in his sixty-first. The most delightful of autobiog- raphers, for artists, is that of Benvenuto Cellini-a work of great originality, which was not begun till " the clock of his age had struck fifty-eight." Franklin's philosophical pur- suits began when he had nearly reached his fiftieth year. Necker offers a beautiful in- stance of the influence of late studies in life ; for he tells us, that " the era of threescore and ten is an agreeable age for writing: your mind has not lost its vigor, and envy leaves you in peace." The opening of one of La Mothe le Veger's Treatises is striking: " I should but ill return the favors God has granted me in the eightieth year of my age, should I allow myself to give way to that shameless want of occupa- tion which I have condemned all my life:" and the old man pro- ceeds with his " observations on the composition and reading of books." NECKER AND LE VEGER. DRYDEN, ANGELO, WREN, FRANK- LIN AND ACCORSO. Dryden's complete works form the largest body of poetry from the pen of one writer in the Eng- lish language; yet he gave no public testimony of poetical abili- ties till his twenty-seventh year. In his sixty-eighth year he pro- posed to translate the whole Iliad ; and the most pleasing productions were written in his old age. Michael Angelo preserved his creative genius even to extreme old age : there is a device said to be invented by him, of an old man 254 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. WALTON AND'REID. that Adam Smith observed to him that " of all the amusements of old age, the most grateful and soothing is a renewal of acquaint- ance with the favorite studies and favorite authors of youth-a re- mark which in his own case seem- ed to be more particularly exem- plified while he was reperusing, with the enthusiasm of a student, the tragic poets of ancient Greece. I heard him repeat the obrerva- tion more than once while Sopho- cles and Euripides lay open on his table." Izaak Walton still glowed while writing some of the most interest- ing biographies in his eighty-fifth year, and in his ninetieth enriched the poetical world with the first publication of a romantic tale by Chalkhill, " the friend of Spenser." The revelations of modern che- mistry kindled the curiosity of Dr. Reid to his latest days. Professor Dugald Stewart says, ADAM SMITH. TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. SPEAKING A FOREIGN LANGUAGE. ance. The Professor presented me formally. Herr Fairy-hunter made a great many bows ; and as so many bows involve a good many curtsies, I inclined nearly as of- ten. Then, with a last rever- ence, lie spoke in English, and said, very slowly-' I complain of you much, that you are so disa- greeable ; but now I make an ex- tra.' I made my last reverence in reply. Such a speech, by way of a complimentary one, was rath- er startling, and not a little alarm- ing. I looked nervously at the Professor, who, with profound gravity, interpreted his friend's meaning thus-' He pities you for being so disagreeably circumstan- ced ; but he is making an abridg- ment of his book, and, therefore, cannot now make the tour.' I bowed with a sense of relief, and the fairy-hunter and myself ex- changed some sentences which I do not record, as I believe the Miss Selina Banbury, the wri- ter of a Tour in Norway and Swe- den, relates some amusing blun- ders committed in the course of her attempts to secure the ser- vices of a traveling companion who could drive her into the country. After sundry failures, a Scandinavian professor succeed- ed in finding a collector' of fairy legends who was desirous of mak- ing a tour in quest of the lore of faeryland, and consented to take the whip and reins in Miss Bun- bury's carriole: " The Professor had told me (she writes) that the fairy-legend hunter spoke English ; a delight- ful knowledge this was to me, for I am by no means strong in north- ern tongues. Thus, in the hope of using and hearing my own, I was quite at ease, when the next day they both made then* appear- TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 255 fairies alone would be able to un- derstand the language. ' I have got another plan for you,' said the Professor; ' yes, this is the very thing. A teacher of music here wishes to take his wife and child into the country, and one of our opera-voices, who also speaks Italian-which you do likewise- will go with them. They will all join you ; but as they must leave their affairs here, they expect you will pay all the traveling expenses. They will bring their own provis- ions, because there are none to be got on the road. That is fair.' 'Very fair, indeed,' I answered. ' the very thing.' ' I complain of you much !' murmured the fairy- hunter, looking at me compassion- ately. ' You must, then, take a carriage,' said the Professor. ' It will be quite filled,' I replied. 'Four persons, with horse-cloaks, pipes, tobacco-pouches, provisions, and luggage!' 'And the child,' added the Professor. ' Ah ! I suppose I must take it on my knee.' ' You are very disagreea- ble,' said the fairy-hunter, with a look of commiseration at me: but I thought, secretly, that oth- ers were still more disagreeable. ' But Mr. Murray's Hand-book says it is dangerous to take a heavy carriage over the hills of Norway, and certainly a roll down among such et ceteras would not be pleasant,'I added. Herr Fairy- hunter moved uneasily on his chair, worked his hands together, shook his head disprovingly, and said, ' You must be complained of.' " Miss Bunbury at last succeeded in finding a guide and companion. SCIENCE AND COMMERCE. The commercial world owes to two retired philosophers, in the solitude of their study, Locke and Smith, those principles which dig- nify trade into a liberal pursuit, and connect it with the happiness of a people. DEDICATIONS. The virtuous Duke of Montau- sier, governor of the Dauphin of France in the reign of Louis XIV, would never suffer his pupil to read the dedications that were addressed to him. One day, how- ever, he discovered him reading one of these epistles in private ; but, instead of taking it from him, he obliged him to read it aloud, and, stopping him at the end of every phrase, said, " Do you not see, sir, that they are laughing at you with impunity ? Can you sin- cerely believe yourself possessed of all the good qualities ascribed to you ? Can you read, without indignation, such gross flattery, which they would not presume to offer without having the lowest opinion of your understanding ?" At a time when the ministers of state were frequently changed in France, a certain author dedi- cated his piece to the Brazen Horse, on the Pont-Neuf; " for I am persuaded," said he, " that my patron will long remain in place." LITERARY DINNERS. " I knew a person," says Men age, " who occasionally gave en- tertainments to authors. His fan- cy was to place them at table, 256 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. each according to the size and thickness of the volumes they had published, commencing with the folio authors, and proceeding through the quarto and octavo, down to the duodecimo, each ac- cording to his rank." that Madame Necker said word for word what she had written in her pocket-book. SYDNEY SMITH AND LANDSEER. A friend once sent Smith a note, requesting him to sit for his por- trait to Landseer, the great ani- mal-painter. Sydney wrote back, "Is thy servant a dog that he should do this thing?" SYDNEY SMITH. Smith observing Lord Brough- am's one-horse carriage, he re- marked to a friend, alluding to the B surrounded by a coronet on the panel, " There goes a car- riage with a B outside and a wasp within." LOCKE AND SCOTT ON ACQUIR- ING KNOWLEDGE. Mr. Locke wras asked how he had contrived to accumulate a mine of knowledge so rich, yet so extensive and deep. He replied, that he attributed what little he knew to the not having been ashamed to ask for information, and to the rule he had laid down of conversing with all descriptions of men, on those topics chiefly that formed their own peculiar profes- sions or pursuits. Sir Walter Scott gives us to understand that he never met with any man, let his calling be what it might, even the most stu- pid fellow that ever rubbed down a horse, from whom he could not, by a few moments' conversation, learn something which he did not before know, and which was val- uable to him. This will account for the fact that he seemed to have an intuitive knowledge of everything. MADAME necker's TAELE-TALK. During one day, at Madame Necker's, the Chevalier de Chas- tellux happened to arrive first of the company, and so early that the mistress of the house was not in the drawing-room. In walk- ing about, he saw on the ground, under Madame Necker's chair, a little book, which he picked up; it was a white paper book, of which several pages were in the handwriting of Madame Necker. It "was the preparation for the very dinner to which he was invi- ted. Madame Necker had writ- ten itthe evening before,and it con- tained all she was to say to the most remarkable persons at table. After reading the little book, M. de Chastellux hastened to replace it under the chair. A moment afterward, a valet-de-chambre en- tered to say, that Madame Neck- er had forgotten her pocket-book in the drawing-room. It -was found and carried to Madame Necker. The dinner was delight- ful to M. de Chastellux, who saw AMERICAN PRONUNCIATION. Noah Webster, in the preface to his own Dictionary of the Eng- lish Language, thoroughly dispar- ages Dr. Johnson's, and most Americans are of Webster's opin- TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 257 ion. When Stuart, their distin- guished painter, was introduced to the leviathan of our literature, Johnson, surprised at his speaking such good English, asked him where he learnt it; and Stuart's cool reply was, " Not in your dic- tionary!" In addition to the use of words which are only to be found in their own vocabulary, they have notions of pronunciation that are peculiarly their private property. It is not the fashion with us, as we have already ob- served, to call " beauty " booty, nor " duty" dooty, nor " due" doo ; neither would the adoption of tew for " too," nor of noos for " news," nor of en-gine for "engine," nor of genu-iwe for "genuine," of deefe for " deaf," of en-quirry for " enquiry," and countless similar expressions, slip very glibly off our tongues ; but if you only ask an American why he so pronoun- ces them, he will tell you that he believes it to be the right way; and if you remind him that there are no such words as he occasion- ally uses, in the English language, his answer will be, " There mayn't be in yours, but there are in ours !" -Alfred Bunn's old England and New England. him a visit in this place in March, 1759, found him in a lodging so poor and miserable that, he says, he should not have thought it proper to have mentioned the cir- cumstance did he not consider it as the highest proof of the splen- dor of Goldsmith's genius and tal- ents, that, by the bare exertion of their powers, under every disad- vantage of person and fortune, he could gradually emerge from such obscurity to the enjoyment of all the comforts and even the luxuries of life, and admission into the best societies of London. The doctor was writing his In- quiry into the Present State of Polite Learning in a wretched, dirty room, in which there was but one chair; and when he,from civil- ity, offered it to his visitant, he was obliged to seat himself in the window. Such was the humble abode of one of the first of English writers; and such was the place where two of the finest produc- tions of English literature were written. This distinguished philosophei' was remarkable for absence of mind. As an anecdote of this pe- culiarity, it is related of him, that having one Sunday morning walked into his garden at Kirk- aldy, dressed in little more than his night-gown, he gradually fell into a reverie, from which he did not awaken till he found himself in the streets of Dunfermline, a town at least twelve miles off. He had in reality trudged along the king's highway all that distance in the pursuit of a certain train of ADAM SMITH. GOLDSMITH AT GREEN ARBOR COURT. The lover of literature will walk up the Break-neck Stairs, between Seacoal Lane and the Old Bailey, with great pleasure, when he re- flects that it will lead to Green Arbor Court, where Goldsmith wrote his Vicar of Wakefield and his Traveler. A friend of the doctor, paying 258 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. ideas, and he was only eventually stopped in his progress by the bells of Dunfermline, which hap- pened, at the time, to be ringing the people to church. His ap- pearance in a crowded church, on a Scotch Sunday morning, in his night-gown, is left to the imagina- tion of the reader. Vanity, by a Volley of holy Shot thundered,from Mount Helicon. cavendish's disregard of MONET. To the anecdotes given in a previous part of this volume, illus- trative of the eccentricities of this great chemist, may here be added the following, characteristic of his disregard of money: " The bankers (says Mr.Pepys) where he kept his accounts, in looking over their affairs, found he had a considerable sum in their hands, some say nearly eighty thousand pounds, and one of them said, that he did not think it right that it should lie so without in- vestment. He was therefore com- missioned to wait upon Mr. Cav- endish, who at that time resided at Clapham. Upon his arrival at the house he desired to speak to Mr. Cavendish. " The servant said, ' What is your business with him ?' " He did not choose to tell the servant. " The servant then said, ' You must wait till my master rings his bell, and then I will let him know.' " In about a quarter of an hour the bell rang, and the banker had the curiosity to listen to the con- versation which took place. " ' Sir, there is a person below, who wants to speak to you.' " ' Who is he ? Who is he ? What does he want with me?' " ' He says he is your banker, and must speak to you.' " Mr. Cavendish, in great agita- tion, desires he may be sent up, and, before he entered the room, BISHOP NEWTON AND HAWKES- WORTH. So sensible was even the calm Bishop Newton to critical attacks, that Whiston tells us that he lost his favor, which he had enjoyed for twenty years, by contradicting Newton in his old age; for no man was of " a more fearful tem- per." Whiston declares that he would not have thought proper to have published his work against Newton's Chronology in his life- time, " because I knew his temper so well, that I should have expect- ed it would have killed him; as Dr. Bentley, Bishop Stillingfleet's chaplain, told me that he believed Mr. Locke's thorough confutation of the bishop's metaphysics about the trinity hastened his end." Dr. Hawkesworth died of criti- cism. Singing birds cannot live in a storm. The authors of the time of Elizabeth and James I, often put quaint and ridiculous titles to their books. Amongst others we may mention Joshua Sylvester, a Puri- tanical poet, who wrote a poem against tobacco, which bears this title: Tobacco battered, and the Pipes shattered about their Ears that idly idolize so loathsome a A POEM ON TOBACCO. TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 259 cries, ' What do you come here for? What do you want with me ?' " ' Sir, I thought it proper to wait upon you, as we have a very large balance in hand of yours, and wish for your orders respect- ing it.' " ' If it is any trouble to you, I will take it out of your hands. Do not come here to plague me.' " ' Not the least trouble to us, sir, not the least; but we thought you might like some of it to be in- vested.' "'WellI well! What do you want to do?' " ' Perhaps you would like to have forty thousand pounds inves- ted.' " Do so 1 Do so, and don't come here and trouble me, or I will remove it.' " the press has often stood still, while his visitors were delighted and instructed. No subject ever came amiss to him. He could transfer his thoughts from one thing to another with the most ac- commodating facility. He had the art, for which Locke was fa- mous, of leading people to talk of their favorite subjects, and on what they knew best. By this he ac- quired a great deal of information. What he once learned he rarely forgot. They gave him their best conversation, and he generally made them pleased with them- selves for endeavoring to please him. Poet Smart used to relate, " that his first conversation with John- son was of such variety and length, that he began with poetry and ended in fluxions." He al- ways talked as if he was talking upon oath. He was the wisest person,and had the most knowledge in ready cash, that I ever had the honor to be acquainted with. Johnson's advice was consulted on all occasions. He was known to be a good casuist, and, therefore, had many cases submitted for his judgment. His conversation, in the judgment of several, was thought to be equal to his writ- ings. Perhaps the tongue will throw out more animated expres- sions than the pen. He said the most common things in the new- est manner. He always com- manded attention and regard. BURKE. It was a fine compliment which Johnson, when debilitated by sick- ness, paid to Burke-the only man who was a match for that conver- sational tyrant: " That fellow calls forth all my powers. Were I to see Burke now it would kill me." " Can he wind into a subject, like a serpent, as Burke does ?" was the shrewd question put to Bos- ■well by Goldsmith. DR. JOHNSON IN CONVERSATION. Tyers says of Johnson, though his time seemed to be bespoke, and quite engrossed, his house was always open to all his ac- quaintance, new and old. His amanuensis has given up his pen, the printer's devil has waited on the stairs for a proof-sheet, and DOCTOR BIRCH. Of Dr. Birch, Johnson was used to speak in this manner " Tom is a lively rogue ; he re- 260 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. members a great- deal, and can tell many pleasant stories ; but a pen is to Tom a torpedo; the touch of it benumbs his hand and his brain. Tom can talk ; but he is no writer." uninterrupted fluency. As I re- turned homewards to Kensington, I thought a second Johnson had visited the earth, to make wise the sons of men, and regretted that I could not exercise the pow- ers of a second Boswell, to record the wisdom and the eloquence that fell from the orator's lips. "The manner of Coleridge was emphatic rather than dogmatic, and thus he was generally and satisfactorily listened to. It might be said of Coleridge, as Cowper has so happily said of Sir Philip Sidney, that he was the ' warbler of poetic prose.' There was al- ways this characteristic feature in his multifarious conversation-it was always delicate, reverent, and courteous. The chastest ear could drink in no startling sound ; the most serious believer never had his bosom ruffled by one skeptical or reckless assertion. Coleridge was eminently simple in his man- ner. Thinking and speaking were his delight; and he would some- times seem, during the most fer- vid moments of discourse, to be abstracted from all, and every- thing around and about him, and to be basking in the sunny warmth of his own radiant imagination." Dr. Dibdin has given an ani- mated description of Coleridge's lecturing and conversation, which concurs with the universal opin- ion. " I once came from Kensing- ton, in a snow-storm, to hear Mr. Coleridge lecture on Shakspeare. I might have sat as wisely, and more comfortably, by my own fireside, for no Coleridge appear- ed. I shall never forget the effect his conversation made upon me at the first meeting at a dinner- party. It struck me, not only as something quite out of the ordina- ry course of things, but as an in- tellectual exhibition altogether matchless. The viands were un- usually costly, and the banquet was at once rich and varied ; but there seemed to be no dish like Coleridge's conversation to feed upon, and no information so in- structive as his own. The orator rolled himself up, as it were, in his chair, and gave the most un- restrained indulgence to his speech; and how fraught with acuteness and originality was that speech, and in what copious and eloquent periods did it flow ! The auditors seemed rapt in wonder and delight, as one conversation, more pro- found or clothed in more forcible language than another, fell from his tongue. He spoke for nearly two hours with unhesitating and Coleridge's talk. THE TERM " WE." The plural style of speaking ("we") among kings was begun by King John of England, A. D. 1119. Before that time sover- eigns used the singular person in their edicts. The German and the French sovereigns followed the example in 1200. When editors began to say " we" is not known. TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 261 KNOCKING OUT AN I. Bulwer's Rienzi, £1600. Mar- ryat's Novels, £500 to £1500 each. Trollope's Factory Boy, £1800. Hannah More derived £30,000 per annum for hex' copy- rights during the latter years of her life. Rundell's Domestic Cookery, £2000. Nicholas Nick- leby, £3000. Eustace's Classical Tour, £2100. Sir Robert Inglis obtained for the beautiful and in- teresting widow of Bishop Heber, by the sale of his Journal, £5000. Mr. Curran, the late celebrated Irish advocate, was walking one day with a friend, who was ex- tremely punctilious in his conver- sation. Hearing a person near him say curosity, for curiosity, he exclaimed, " How that man mur- ders the English language ! " " Not so bad," replied Curran, " he has only knocked an i out! " PROFITS OF RECENT AUTHOR- SHIP. The late Mr. Tegg, the publish- er in Cheapside, gave the follow- ing list of remunerative payments to distinguished authors in his time; and he is believed to have taken considerable pains to verify the items: Fragments of History, by Charles Fox, sold by Lord Holland, for 5000 guineas. Frag- ments of History, by Sir James Mackintosh, £500. Lingard's History of England, £4683. Sir Walter Scott's Bonaparte was sold, with the printed books, for £18,- 000 ; the net receipts of copyright on the first two editions only must have been £10,000. Life of Wil- berforce, by his sons, 4000 guineas. Life of Byron, by Moore, £4000. Life of Sheridan, by Moore,£2000. Life of Hannah More,£2000. Life of Cowper, by Southey, £1000. Life and Times of George IV, by Lady C. Bury, £1000. By- ron's Works, £20,000. Lord of the Isles, half share, £1500. Lalla Rookh, by Moore, £3000. Rejected Addresses, by Smith, £1000. Crabbe's Works, repub- lication of, by Mr. Murray, £3000. Wordsworth's Works, republica- tion of, by Mr. Moxon, £1050. JAMES BOSWELL. The moment Johnson's voice burst forth, the attention which it excited in Mr. Boswell amounted almost to pain. His eyes goggled with eagerness ; he leaned his ear almost on the shouldei* of the doc- tor, and his mouth dropped open to catch every syllable that might be uttered ; nay, he seemed not only to dread losing a word, but to be anxious not to miss a breath- ing, as if hoping from it latently, or mystically, some information. On one occasion, the doctor de- tected Boswell, or Bozzy, as he called him, eavesdropping behind his chair, as he was conversing with Miss Burney at Mr. Thrale's table. " What are you doing there, sir?" cried he, turning around angrily, and clapping his hand upon his knee. " Go to the table, sir! " Boswell obeyed with an air of affright and submission, which raised a smile on every face. Scarce had he taken his seat, how- ever, at a distance, than, impatient to get again at the side of John- son, he rose, and was running off in quest of something to show 262 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. him, when the doctor roared after him authoritatively, " What are you thinking of, sir? Why do you get up before the cloth is re- moved ? Come back to your place, sir;" and the obsequious spaniel did as he was command- ed. " Running about in the middle of meals!" muttered the doctor, pursing his mouth at the same time to restrain his rising risibility. Boswell got another rebuff from Johnson, which w'ould have demolished any other man. He had been teasing him with many direct questions, such as, " What did you do, sir?" " What did you say, sir ?" until the great philol- ogist became perfectly enraged. " I will not be put to the ques- tion I " roared he. " Don't you consider, sir, that these are not the manners of a gentleman ? I ■will not be baited with what and why. What is this ? What is that ? Why is a cow's tail long ? Why is a fox's tail bushy?" " Why, sir," replied Pilgarlic, " you are so good that I venture to trouble you." " Sir," replied Johnson, " my being so good is no reason why you should be so ill." " You have but twro topics, sir," exclaimed he, on another occasion, " yourself and me, and I am sick of both." read, thought over, written upon -forming what he denominated Horae. Biblicce Quotidiance: each Sabbath-day had its two chapters, one in the Old and the other in the New Testament, with the two trains of meditative devotion re- corded to which the reading of them respectively gave birth- forming what he denominated Horae Biblicce Sabbaticce. When absent from home, or when the manuscript books in which they were ordinarily inserted were not beside him, he wrote in short-hand, carefully entering what was thus written in the larger volumes af- terward. Not a trace of haste nor of the extreme pressure from ■without, to which he was so often subjected, is exhibited in the hand- writing of these volumes. There are but few words omitted - scarcely any erased. This singu- lar correctness was a general char- acteristic of his compositions. His lectures on the Epistle to the Ro- mans were written currente cala- mo, in Glasgow", during the most hurried and overburdened period of his life. And when, many years afterward, they were given out to be copied for the press, scarcely a blot, or an erasure, or a correction, was to be found in them, and they wrere printed off exactly as they had originally been written. In preparing the Horce Biblicce Quotidiance, Chalmers had by his side, for use and reference, the Concordance, the Pictorial Bible, Poole's Synopsis, Henry's Com- mentary, and Robinson's Re- searches in Palestine. These con- stituted what he called his " Bib- DR.CHALMERS' LITERARY HABITS. In October, 1841, Dr. Chal- mers commenced two series of biblical compositions, which he continued with unbroken regular- ity till the day of his decease, May 31, 1847. Go where he might, however he might be engaged, each week-day had its few verses TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 263 lical Library." " There," said he to a friend, pointing, as he spoke, to the above named volumes, as they lay together on his library- table, with a volume of the Quo- tidiance, in which he had just been writing, lying open beside them- "There are the books I use-all that is Biblical is there. I have to do with nothing besides in my Biblical study." To the consulta- tion of these few volumes he throughout restricted himself.- Memoir by Dr. Hanna. dom,and intimate with the founder of Magdalen College. It is thought that the name which Shakspeare gave to his humorous knight was merely accidental; and that he did not intend the least allusion to this great warrior, under the name of Sir John Falstaff. It is evi- dent, indeed, that although their names are somewhat similar, their characters are very different.- War ton. CARDINAL WOLSEY. JUDGE BURNET. "King Henry," says Fuller, " took just offense that the cardi- nal set his own arms above the king's, on the gate-house, at the entrance into the college (at Ox- ford). This was no verbal but a real Ego et Rex mens, excusable by no plea in manners or gram- mar, except only by that (which is rather fault than figure) a harsh, downright Hysterosis; but to hum- ble the cardinal's pride, some af- terward set up on a window a painted mastiff dog, gnawing the spate-bone of a shoulder of mut- ton, to minde the cardinal of his extraction, being the son of a butcher, it being utterly improba- ble (as some have fancied) that that picture was placed there by the cardinal's own appointment, to be to him a monitor of humility." Judge Burnet, son of the famous Bishop of Salisbury, when young, is said to have been of a wild and dissipated turn. Being one day found by his father in a very seri- ous humor, " What is the matter with you, Tom ?" said the bishop: " what are you ruminating on ? " " A greater work than your lord- ship's History of the Reforma- tion" answered the son. " Ay ! what is that ? " asked the father. "The reformation of myself, my lord," replied the son. FALSTAFF'S BUCKRAM-MEN. Sir John Falstaff was a bene- factor to Magdalen College. He bequeathed estates to that society, part of which were appropriated to buy liveries for some of the senior demies. But this benefac- tion, in time, yielding no more than a penny a week to those who received the liveries, they were called by way of contempt, Fal- staff" s Duckrani-men. The proper name of this knight was Fastolff. He was a celebrated general and nobleman in France during our conquests in that king- SUGAR PLUMS. We meet with extravagances in the world, which we must endure, and, indeed, adopt, while they last. Their absurdity does not com- pletely appear till after they are over. During the reign of Henry III, there was a time when it was thought impossible to exist with- 264 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. out sugar plums. Every one car- ried his box of sugar plums in his pocket, as he now does his snuff- box. It is related in the history of the Duke de Guise, that when he was killed at Blois, he had his comfit-box in his hand. peer, knowing him to be unused to the giving mood : the person addressed joyfully held out her hand, but drew it back on his coolly saying, "I will give you this afflicting incident for the subject of your next tragedy." MRS. HANNAH MORE TRUE AND FALSE SYMPATHY. PERFUMED GLOVES. The author of this anecdote (Mrs. Hannah More), many years ago, made one in a party of friends. An unexpected guest, who was rather late, at length came in ; she was in great agitation, having been detained on the road by a dreadful tire in the neighborhood. The poor family, who were gone to bed, had been with difficulty awakened; the mother had es- caped by throwing herself from a two pair of stairs window into the street: she then recollected that, in her extreme terror, she had left her child in bed. To the astonishment of all present, she instantly rushed back through the flames, and to the general joy, soon appeared with the child in her arms. While she was expressing her gratitude, the light of the lamps fell on its face, and she per- ceived, to her inexpressible hor- ror, that she had saved the child of another woman-that her own had perished ! It may be imag- ined what were the feelings of the company. A subscription was immediately begun. Almost every one had liberally contributed, when a nobleman, who could have bought the whole party, turning to Mrs. Hannah More, said: "Madam, I will give you-" every expecting eye was turned to the In the computus of the bursars of Trinity College, for the year 1631, the following article occurs : "Solut. pro fumigandis chirothe- cis." Gloves make a constant and considerable article of ex- pense in the earlier account books of the college here mentioned; and without doubt in those of many other societies. They were annually given (a custom still subsisting) to the college tenants, and often presented to guests of distinction. But it appears (at least, from accounts of the said college in preceding years), that the practice of perfuming gloves for this purpose was fallen into disuse soon after the reign of Charles the First.- Warton. Stowe's continuator, Edmund Howes, informs us, that sweet or perfumed gloves, were first brought into England by the Earl of Oxford, who came from Italy in the 14th or 15th year of Queen Elizabeth, during whose reign, and long afterward, they were very fashionable. They are frequently mentioned by Shakspeare. Autolycusin The Winter's Tale, has among his wares: " Gloves as sweet as damask roses." fielding's " amelia." Andrew Millar, the bookseller, TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 265 gave Fielding a thousand pounds for his Amelia; but showing the MS. to Sir Andrew Mitchell, af- terward ambassador to Prussia, he was told that it was much in- ferior to Tbm Jones, and advised to get rid of it as soon as he could. Millar soon thought of a strata- gem by which he could at least push it off to the trade, if he could not make it popular. At a sale made to the booksellers previous to the publication, Millar offered his friends all his other publications on the usual terms of discount; but when he came to Amelia, he laid it aside as a work in such de- mand, that he could not afford to deliver it to the trade in the usual manner. The ruse succeeded; the impression, though very large, was anxiously bought up, and the bookseller relieved from every apprehension as to the popularity of Fielding's Amelia. in lodgings, at low rents, to per- sons of this description, whose oc- cupation was publishing anony- mously, what were then deemed libelous or treasonable works. But it was here that honest John Foxe compiled the greatest portion of his Martyrology; and it is generally believed that John Speed wrote his Chronicle, and Daniel Defoe several of his pub- lications, in the much-abused Grub Street. schiller's nobility. Schiller, the German poet, had a patent of nobility conferred upon him by the Emperor of Germany, which he never used. Turning over a heap of papers one day, in the presence of a friend, he came to his patent, and showed it care- lessly to his friend, with this ob- servation, "Z suppose you did not know 1 was a noble;" and then buried it again in the mass of miscellaneous papers in which it had long lain undisturbed. Schil- ler's friend might have answered, after this action, " If I did not before know you were noble, I know it now." GRUB STREET. " Grub Street," says Pennant, " has long been proverbial for the residence ' of authors of the less fortunate tribe, and the trite and illiberal jest of the more favored.'" This character it seems to have obtained so far back as during the protectorate of Cromwell, when a great number of seditious pam- phlets and papers, tending to ex- asperate the people against the existing government, were pub- lished. The authors of these writ- ings were generally men of very indigent circumstances, who were compelled to live in a cheap or obscure part of the town. Grub Street then abounded with mean and old houses, which were let out ADDISON. The following curious particu- lars relating to this celebrated man deserve to be revived, and will be interesting to his admirers. Budgell gives this account of a conversation between Lord Hali- fax and Addison, at which he him- self was present: it happened a little before they went to wait on George the First at Greenwich, at his first landing after his acces- sion to the throne. Lord Halifax 266 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. told them that he expected the white staff, and intended to rec- ommend Mr. Addison to the king for one of the secretaries of state. " Mr. Addison, I believe," says Budgell, " very sincerely told his lordship that he did not aim at so high a post, and desired him to remember that he was not a speaker in the house. Lord Halifax brisk- ly replied, ' Come, prithee, Addi- son, no unseasonable modesty. I made thee secretary to the regen- cy with this very view. Thou hast the best right, of any man in England, to be secretary of state; nay, it will be a sort of displacing thee not to make thee so. If thou couldst but get over that silly sheepishness of thine, that makes thee sit in the house and hear a fellow prate, for half an hour to- gether, who has not a tenth part of thy good sense, I should be glad to see it; but since I believe that is impossible, we must contrive as well as we can. Thy pen has al- ready been an honor to thy coun- try, and will be a credit to thy king.' " The well-known modesty of Addison is confirmed by this con- versation ; but Lord Halifax was too partial to his friend, when he supposed him endowed with the talents of a statesman. plosion would ensue, which would blow us all into the air." The company had scarcely time to re- flect on this comfortable piece of intelligence, before he did forget to stir, and his prediction was ac- complished. The explosion took place with a horrible crash; and all the windows of the laboratory were smashed to pieces. Fortu- nately, no one received any seri- ous injury, the greatest violence of the explosion having been in the direction of the chimney. The demonstrator escaped without fur- ther harm than the loss of his wig. A professor of a northern uni- versity, who was as remarkable for his felicity in experimenting as Roulle could be for his failures, was once repeating an experiment with some combustible substances, when the mixture exploded, and the phial which he held in his hand blew into a hundred piepes. " Gentlemen," said the doctor to his pupils, with the most unaffect- ed gravity, " I have made this ex- periment often with the very same phial, and never knew it break in my hands before!" The sim- plicity of this rather superfluous assurance produced a general laugh, in which the learned pro- fessor, instantly discerning the cause of it, joined most heartily. CIIEMICAL EXPERIMENTING. PETER THE GREAT A SURGEON. M. Roulle, an eminent French chemist, was not the most cautious of operators. One day, while per- forming some experiments, he ob- served to his auditors, " Gentlemen, you see this cauldron upon this brazier; well, If I were to cease stirring a single moment, an ex- The czar, excited by natural curiosity, and his love for the sciences, took great pleasure in seeing dissections and chirurgical operations. It was Peter wrho first made these known in Russia, and he was so fond of them, that he gave orders to be informed TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 267 whenever anything of the kind was going on in the hospitals, and he seldom failed to be present. He frequently lent his assistance, and had acquired sufficient skill to dissect according to the rules of art, to bleed, draw teeth, and perform other operations, as well as one of the faculty. It was an employment to which he was very partial, and besides his case of mathemathical instruments which he always carried with him, he had a pouch well stocked with chirurgical instruments. The czar once exercised his dexterity as a dentist in a very laughable manner on the wife of one of his valets-de-chambre, who wished to be revenged upon her for some supposed injuries. Per- ceiving the husband, whose name was Balboiarof, sitting in the ante- chamber, with a sad and pensive countenance, the czar inquired the cause of his sorrow ? " Nothing, sire," answered Balboiarof, " ex- cept that my wife refused to have a tooth drawn which gives her the most agonizing pain." " Let me speak to her," replied the czar, " and I warrant I'll cure her." He was immediately conducted by the husband to the apartments of the suuposed sick person, and made her sit down that he might examine her mouth, al- though she protested she had not the toothache. "Ah, this is the mischief," said her husband, " she always pretends not to sutler when we wish to give her ease, and re- news her lamentations as soon as the surgeon is gone." "Well, well," said the czar, " she shall not suffer long. Do you hold her head and arms." Then taking out the instrument, he, in spite of her cries, extracted the tooth which he supposed to be the cause of her complaint, with admirable address. Hearing, a few days after, that this was a trick of her husband to torture his wife, Peter chastised him severely with his own hands. The celebrated Dr. William Hunter and Dr. Cullen, formed a copartnership of as singular and- laudable a kind as is to be found in the annals of science. Being natives of the same part of the country, and neither of them in affluent circumstances, these two young men, stimulated by the im- pulse of genius, to prosecute their medical studies with ardor, but thwarted by the narrowness of their fortunes, entered into part- nership as surgeons and apothe- caries in the country. The chief object of their contract being to furnish each of the parties with the means of prosecuting their medical studies, which they could not separately so well enjoy, it was stipulated that one of them, alternately, should be allowed to study in what college he pleased, during the winter, while the other should carry on the business in the country for their common ad- vantage. In consequence of this agreement, Cullen was first allow- ed to study at the University of Edinburgh for one winter; but when it came to Hunter's turn, next winter, he preferring Lon- don to Edinburgh, went thither. There his singular neatness in HUNTER AND CULLEN. 268 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. dissecting, and uncommon dexter- ity in making anatomical prep- arations, his assiduity in study, and amiable manners, soon recom- mended him to the notice of Dr. Douglas, who then read lectures upon anatomy in London. Hun- ter was engaged as an assistant, and afterward filled the chair itself with honor. The scientific partnership was by this means prematurely dis- solved ; but Cullen was not a man of that disposition to let any en- gagement with him prove a bar to his partner's advancement in life. The articles of the treaty were freely given up, and Cullen and Hunter ever after kept up a very cordial and friendly corres- pondence ; though it is believed they never, from that time, had a personal interview. " This," says Mr. D'lsraeli, " is a misfortune which I observe has happened to all alchymists." LORD BYRON'S "CORSAIR." The Earl of Dudley, in his Letters (1818), says: "To me Byron's Corsair appears the best of all his works. Rapidity of ex- ecution is no sort of apology for doing a thing ill, but when it is done well, the wonder is so much the greater. I am told he wrote this poem at ten sittings-certain- ly it did not take him more than three weeks." LORD ELIBANK AND DR. JOHNSON. Lord Elibank made a happy retort on Dr. Johnson's definition of oats, as the food of horses in England, and men in Scotland. " Yes," said he, " and where else will you see such horses, and such men 2"-Sir Walter Scott. boswbll's bear-leading. It was on a visit to the parlia- ment house that Mr. Henry Ers- kine (brother of Lord Buchan and Lord Erskine), after being pre- sented to Dr. Johnson by Mr. Boswell, and having made his bow, slipped a shilling into Bos- well's hand, whispering that it was for the sight of his bear.- Sir Walter Scott. A SNAIL DINNER. The chemical philosophers, Dr. Black and Dr. Hutton, were par- ticular friends, though there was something extremely opposite in their external appearance and manner. Dr. Black spoke with the English pronunciation, and with punctilious accuracy of ex- pression, both in point of matter and manner. The geologist, Dr. Hutton, was the very reverse of this: his conversation was con- ducted in broad phrases, express- ed with a broad Scotch accent, which often heightened the humor of what he said. It chanced that the two Doc- tors had held some discourse to- gether upon the folly of abstaining THE COMMON LOT OF THE ALCHYMISTS. Fidler relates, that " one Thom- as Chamoc, in pursuit of the phi- losopher's stone, which so many do touch, few catch, and none keep, met a very sad disaster. Once, when he was on the point of com- pleting the grand operation, his work unhappily fell into the fire." TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 269 from feeding on the testaceous creatures of the land, while those of the sea were considered as deli- cacies. Wherefore not eat snails ? they are known to be nutritious and wholesome, and even sanative in some cases. The epicures of old praised them among the rich- est delicacies, and the Italians still esteem them. In short, it was determined that a gastro- nomic experiment should be made at the expense of the snails. The snails were procured, dieted for a time, and then stewed for the ben- efit of the two philosophers, who had either invited no guests to their banquet, or found none who relished in prospect the piece de resistance. A huge dish of snails was placed before them: still, philosophers are but men, after all; and the stomachs of both doc- tors began to revolt against the experiment. Nevertheless, if they looked with disgust on the snails, they retained their awe for each other, so that each, conceiving the symptoms of internal revolt pecul- iar to himself, began, with infi- nite exertion, to swallow, in very small quantities, the mess which he internally loathed. Dr. Black, at length, showed the white feather, but in a very delicate manner, as if to sound the opinion of his messmate. " Doctor," said he, in his precise and quiet manner-" Doctor-do you not think that they taste a little-a very little, green ?" "Hor- ribly green ! horribly green ! in- deed-tak' them awa',-tak' them awa'! " vociferated Dr. Hutton, starting up from table, and giving full vent to his feelings of abhor- rence. So ended all hopes of in- troducing snails into the modern cuisine; philosophy can no more cure a nausea than honor can set a broken limb.-Sir Walter Scott. DULL AUTHORS. Marchand, commonly called Marchand du Maine, brother of Prosper Marchand of Amster- dam, said that he had been a whole winter by the side of the Duchess du Maine's bed, reading the first ten pages of a book. The moment he began to read she fell asleep, which he not immediately perceiving, proceed- ed ; but the next day she always made him begin again. We are not told the name of this compos- ing book. Its qualities, however, are by no means rare. LETTER-WRITING. Sprightliness and wit," says a learned author, " are graceful in letters, just as they are in conver- sation ; when they flow easily, and without being studied ; when em- ployed so as to season, not to cloy. One who, either in conversation or in letters, affects to shine and sparkle always, will not please long. The style of letters should not be too highly polished. All nicety about words betrays study, and hence, musical periods, and appearance of number and har- mony in arrangement, should be carefully avoided in letters." COWPER AND HIS CRITIC. Cowper had sent a small poem to the publishers, when some friendly critic took the liberty to alter a line in the poem, to make 270 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. it smoother, supposing, of course, he had made the line much better, because it was smoother, and that Cowper would be grate- ful for such a favor ; but Cowper did not think "oily smoothness" the merit of poetry, and so was quite indignant at the liberty tak- en with his poem. " I did not write the line," says he, " that has been tampered with, hastily or without due attention to the construction of it; and what appeared to me its only merit is, in its present state, entirely anni- hilated. " I know that the ears of mod- ern verse-makers are delicate to an excess, and their readers are troubled with the same squeam- ishness as themselves ; so that if a line does not run as smooth as quicksilver, they are offended. A critic of the present day serves a poem as a cook serves a dead turkey, when she fastens the legs of it to a post, and draws out all its sinews. For this we may thank Pope ; but give me a man- ly, rough line, with a deal of meaning in it, rather than a whole poem of music periods, that have nothing but their oily smoothness to recommend them. " In a much longer poem which I have just finished, there are many lines which an ear so nice as the gentleman's who made the above-mentioned alteration would undoubtedly condemn; and yet (if I may be allowed the expres- sion) they cannot be made smooth- er without being made the worse for it. There is a roughness on a plum which nobody that under- stands fruit would rub offj though the plum would be much more polished without it. But lest I tire you I will only add, that I wish you to guard me for the fu- ture from all such meddling, as- suring you that I always write as smoothly as I can, but I never did, never will, sacrifice the spirit or sense of a passage to the sound of it." BUNYAN AND THE BOOK OF MARTYRS. There is no book, except the Bible, which Bunyan is known to have perused so intensely as the Acts and Monuments of John Foxe, the martyrologist, one of the best of men ; a work more hastily than judiciously compiled, but invaluable for that greater and far more important portion which has obtained for it its pop- ular name of the Book of Martyrs. Bunyan's own copy of this work is in existence, and valued, of course, as such a relic of such a man ought to be. It was pur- chased, in the year 1780, by Mr. Wantner, of the Minories ; from him it descended to his daughter, Mrs. Parnell, of Botolph Lane; and it was afterward purchased by subscription for the Bedford- shire General Library. This edition of the Acts and Monuments is of the date 1641, three volumes folio, the last of those in the black letter, and prob- ably the latest 'when it came into Bunyan's hands. In each volume he has written his name beneath the title-page, in a large and stout print-hand. Under some of the wood-cuts he has inserted a few rhymes which are undoubtedly TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 271 his own composition; and which, though much in the manner of the verses which were printed under the illustrations of his own Pil- grim's Progress, are very much worse than even the worst of these. Indeed, it would not be possible to find specimens of more misera- ble doggerel. Here is one of the Tinker's te- trastichs, penned in the margin,be- side the account of Gardiner's death: " The blood, the blood that he did shed Is falling one his one head; And dreadfull it is for to see The beginers of his misere." One of the signatures bears the date of 1662 ; but the verses must undoubtedly have been some years earlier, before the publication of his first tract. These curious in- scriptions must have been Bun- yan's first attempts in verse. He had, no doubt, found difficulty enough in tinkering them to make him proud of his work when it was done, otherwise he would not have written them in a book which was the most valuable of all his goods and chattels. In later days, he seems to have taken this book for his art of poetry. His verses are something below the pitch of Sternhold and Hop- kins. 'But if he learnt there to make bad verses, he entered fully into the spirit of its better parts, and received that spirit into as resolute a heart as ever beat in a martyr's bosom.-Southey. P. requested Irving, who was one of the party, to read the Bible and expound. lie began and contin- ued a discourse which manifested not even a tendency toward term- ination until midnight. The sup- per was, of course, either burnt up or grown cold. When the clock struck twelve, Mr. P. tremblingly and gently suggested that it might be desirable to draw to a close. "Who art thou," he replied with prophetic energy, "who darest to interrupt the man of God in the midst of his administrations ?" He pursued his commentary for some time longer, then closed the book, and waving his long arm over the head of his host, uttered an audi- ble and deliberate prayer that his offense might be forgiven. WRITING HISTORY. When Leti, the historian, was one day attending the levee of Charles the Second, he said to him, "Leti, I hear that you are writing the History of the Court of Eng- lands "Sir, I have been for some time preparing materials for such a history." "Take care that your work give no offense," said the prince. Leti replied, " Sir, I will do what I can ; but if a man were as wise as Solomon, he would scarcely be able to avoid giving offense." " Why, then," rejoined the king, " be as wise as Solomon; write proverbs, not histories." SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH'S HUMOR. Mr. P. invited a party to sup- per. Some of his guests had three miles to walk home after the meal. But before its commencement, Mr. EDWARD IRVING. Sir James Mackintosh had a great deal of humor; and, among many other examples of it, he kept a dinner-party at his own house for two or three hours in a roar 272 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. of laughter, playing upon the sim- plicity of a Scotch cousin, who had mistaken the Rev. Sidney Smith for his gallant synonym, the hero of Acre. Coleridge's "watchman." Coleridge, among his many spec- ulations, started a periodical, in prose and verse, entitled The Watchman, with the motto, " that all might know the truth, and that the truth might make us free." He watched in vain! Coleridge's incurable want of order and punc- tuality, and his philosophical the- ories, tired out and disgusted his readers, and the work was discon- tinued after the ninth number. Of the unsalable nature of this publi- cation, he related an amusing illus- tration. Happening one morning to rise at an earlier hour than usu- al, he observed his servant-girl putting an extravagant quantity of paper into the grate, in order to light the fire, when he mildly checked her for her wastefulness : " La! sir," replied Nanny; "why, it's only Watchmen." HISTORICAL OMISSIONS. In Goldsmith's History of Eng- land no mention is made of the great plague or the great fire of London. BERZELIUS THE CHEMIST. This devoted chemist continued to labor in the cause of science when the lower part of his body was paralyzed, and he was dying by inches. His death took place in 1848, in the 69th year of his age. An indifferent poet, who had been severely handled by the crit- ics, yet continued to go on pub- lishing his crudities, said one day to an acquaintance, that he had found out a way to be revenged of his reviewers, and that was by laughing at them. "Do you so?" said the other; " then let me tell you, you lead the merriest life of any man in Christendom." CRITICIZED POET. FUSELI ON SMALL TALK. Fuseli had a great dislike to common-place observations. After sitting perfectly silent for a long time in his own room, during "the bald, disjointed chat" of some idle callers-in, who were gabbling with one another about the weather, and other topics of as interesting a nature, he suddenly exclaimed, "We had pork for dinner to-day!" "Dear Mr. Fuseli, what an odd remark!" "Why, it is as good as anything you have been saying for the last hour." CHRISTIANITY. Sir Humphry Davy observes- "Of all the religions which have operated upon the human mind, Christianity alone has the consis- tent character of perfect truth ; all its parts are arranged with the most beautiful symmetry; and its grand effects have been constantly connected with virtuous gratifica- tion, with moral and intellectual improvement, with the present and future happiness." SIR W. SCOTT SIR H. DAVY SPECKBACKER THE TYROLESE PATRIOT. Speaking of Sir H. Davy, Sir Walter Scott, in his kind manner, TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 273 mentioned to Mrs. Davy, wife of Dr. Davy, his brother's biographer, the following circumstance respect- ing Sir Humphry: " There was one very good thing about him, he never forgot a friend; and I'll tell you a thing he did to me that makes me particularly say so. When he was traveling in the Tyrol, the old patriot lea- der, Speckbacker, was very ill, suffering from rheumatism, or something of that sort: and when he heard there was a great philos- opher in the neighborhood, he thought of course he must be a doctor, and sent to beg some ad- vice about his complaint. Sir Humphry did not profess to know much of medicine, but he gave him something, which luckily re- lieved his pain; and then the grat- itude of the old chief made him feel quite unhappy because he re- fused to take any fee. So Sir Humphry said, 'Well, that you may not feel unhappy about not making me any return for my ad- vice, I'll ask if you have any old pistol, or rusty bit of a sword, that was used in your Tyrolese war of defense, for I have a friend that would be delighted to have any such article; and you may depend on its being hung up in his hall, and the story of it told for many a year to come.' Speckbacker struck his hands together, much pleased with the request, and said, 'Oh, I have the very thing! you shall have the gun that I used myself when I shot thirty Bavarians in one day.' The illustrious gun was given accordingly to Sir Humphry, who brought it with him on his next visit to Scotland, and de- posited it with me, at Abbotsford, himself." GRAY AND THE DUCHESS OF NORTHUMBERLAND. Gray, the elegant author of the Elegy in a Country Churchyard, being in London, before his pro- motion to the chair of modern his- tory in the University of Cam- bridge, and when his circumstan- ces were so cramped that he could indulge himself in very few grat- ifications, went with a friend to a private sale of books, in which the lots were very large. Amongst the rest there was a very elegant book-case, filled with a select col- lection of the French classics, handsomely bound, the price 100 guineas. Gray had a great long- ing for this lot, but could not afford to buy it. The conversation be- tween him and his friend was overheard by the Duchess of Northumberland, who, knowing the other gentleman, took an op- portunity to ask who his friend was. She was told it was the cel- ebrated Gray. Upon their retir- ing, she bought the book-case and its contents, and sent it to Gray's lodgings, with a note, importing that she was ashamed of sending so small an acknowledgment for the infinite pleasure she had re- ceived in reading the Elegy in a, Country Churchyard-of all oth- ers her favorite poem. JAMES SMITH. The following playful colloquy in verse took place at a dinner- table between Sir George Rose and James Smith, one of the au- thors of the Rejected Addresses, in 274 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. allusion to Craven-Street, Strand, where he resided: "J. S.-' At the top of my street the attorneys abound, And down at the bottom the barges are found: Fly, Honesty, fly to some safer retreat, For there's craft in the river, and craft in the street.' " " Sir G. R.-' Why should Honesty fly to some safer retreat, From attorneys and barges, odrot 'em? For the lawyers are just at the top of the street. And the barges are just at the bottom.' " stopped him as he came down, and begged to know where she should have the honor of hearing him preach the next Sunday. Mr. Sterne having mentioned the place where he was to exhibit, found her situated in the same manner on that day; when she put the same question to him as before. The following Sunday he was to preach four miles out of York, which he told her; and to his great surprise, found her there too; and, that the same question was put to him as he descended from the pulpit. On which, adds he, I took for my text these words, expecting my old woman as be- fore:- "I will grant the request of this poor widow; lest by her often coming, she weary me." One of the company immediately re- plied, "Why, Sterne, you omitted the most applicable part of the passage, which is, 'Though I neither fear God nor regard man.' " This unexpected retort silenced the wit for the whole evening. BISHOP HOUGH. Doctor Hough, bishop of Wor- cester. who was as remarkable for the evenness of his temper as for many other qualities, having a good deal of company at his house, a gentleman present desired his lordship to show him a curious weatherglass, which the bishop had lately purchased, and which cost him above thirty guineas. The servant was accordingly de- sired to bring it, who, in deliver- ing it to the gentleman, accident- ally let it fall, and broke it to pieces. The company were all a little deranged by the accident. "Be under no concern, my dear sir," says the bishop, smiling, "I think it is rather a lucky omen; we have hitherto had a dry sea- son; and I hope wre shall have some rain, for I protest I do not remember ever to have seen the glass so low." INVITATION TO DINNER BY MOORE. The following was one of the latest productions of the poet Moore, addressed to the Marquis of Lansdowne. It is full of those felicitous turns of expression in which the English Anacreon ex- cels. It breathes the very spirit of classic festivity: l* Some think we bards have nothing real- That poets live among the stars, so Their very dinners are ideal,- (And heaven knows, too oft they are so:) For instance, that we have, instead Of vulgar chops and stews, and hashes, First course,-a phoenix at the head, Done in its own celestial ashes: At foot, a cygnet, which kept singing All the time its neck was wringing. STERNE REBUKED. Sterne being in company with three or four clergymen, was re- lating a circumstance which hap- pened to him at York. After preaching at the cathe- dral, an old woman, whom he ob- served sitting on the pulpit stairs, TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 275 Side dishes, thus,-Minerva's owl, Or any such like learned fowl. Doves, such as heaven's poulterer gets When Cupid shoots his mother's pets. Larks stew'd in morning's roseate breath, Or roasted by a sunbeam's splendor; And nightingales, be-rhymed to death- Like young pigs whipp'd to make them tender. Such fare may suit those bards who're able To banquet at Duke Humphrey's table; But as for me, who've long been taught To eat and drink like other people, And can put up with mutton bought Where Bromham rears its ancient steeple; If Lansdowne will consent to share My humble feast, though rude the fare, Yet, seasoned by that salt he brings From Attica's salinest springs, 'Twill turn to dainties ; while the cup, Beneath his influence brightening up, Like that of Baucis, touched by Jove, Will sparkle fit for gods above I " and entered into a conversation more rational, and better suited to the dignity of their characters. STAMMERING WIT. Stammering (says Coleridge) is sometimes the cause of a pun. Some one was mentioning in Lamb's presence the cold-hearted- ness of the Duke of Cumberland, in restraining the duchess from rushing up to the embrace of her son, whom she had not seen for a considerable time, and insisting on her receiving him in state. " How horribly cold it was," said the nar- rator. " Yes," said Lamb, in his stuttering way; " but you know he is the Duke of Cu-cum-ber-land" LOCKE. John Locke, having been intro- duced by Lord Shaftesbury to the Duke of Buckingham and Lord Halifax; these three noblemen, instead of conversing with the phi- losopher, as might naturally have been expected, on literary subjects, in a very short time sat down to cards. Mr. Locke, after looking on for some time, pulled out his pocket-book, and began to write with great attention. One of the company observing this, took the liberty of asking him what he was writing. "My Lord," says Locke, " I am endeavoring, as far as possible, to profit by my present situation; for having waited with impatience for the honor of being in company with the greatest geniuses of the age, I thought I could do nothing better than to write down your conversation; and, indeed, I have set down the substance of what you have said for this hour or two." This well-timed ridicule had its desired effect; and these noble- men, fully sensible of its force, immediately quitted their play, A gentleman of narrow circum- stances, whose health was on the decline, finding that an ingenious physician occasionally dropped in- to a coffee-house that he frequent- ed, not very remote from Lincoln's- Inn, always placed himself vis-a- vis the doctor, in the same box, and made many indirect efforts to withdraw the doctor's attention from the newspaper to examine the index of his constitution. He at last ventured a bold push at once, in the following terms:- "Doctor," said he, "I have for a long time been very far from being well, and as I belong to an office, where I am obliged to attend every day, the complaints I have prove very troublesome to me, and I should be glad to remove them." The doctor laid down his paper, and regarded his patient with a steady eye, while he proceeded: "I have but little appetite, and MEDICINAL ANECDOTE. 276 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. digest what I eat very poorly; I have a strange swimming in my head," etc. In short, after giving the doctor a full quarter of an hour's detail of all his symptoms, he concluded the state of his case with a direct question: " Pray, doctor, what shall I take?" The doctor, in the act of resuming his newspaper, gave him the following laconic prescription: "Take, why, take advice!" papers were put into his hands, which he returned in a few days, telling the disappointed author, that he could not venture to give more than twenty pounds for the book. This offer Burn could not think of accepting. He returned very melancholy to his lodging, sincerely repenting that he had ever put pen to paper on that sub- ject. By this time, Mr. Andrew Millar was well established in business, and his name had been several times mentioned with some degree of respect to Mr. Burn; so that he resolved to wait upon him, with- out any person to introduce him. He went, communicated his busi- ness in a few words, was politely received, and informed, that if he would trust the manuscript with him for a few days, he should be able to give him an answer; and in the meantime, as he was from home, he asked the author to dine with him each day, till they should conclude about the business. Mr. Millar, who did not depend upon his own judgment in cases of this sort, sent the manuscript to a young lawyer, with whom he usu- ally advised in regard to law-books. The gentleman after reading the performance, returned it to Mr. Millar, and informed him, that if he could purchase the copyright for 200 pounds, he would certainly have a great bargain; for the book was extremely well written, and much wanted, so that the sale of it must be very considerable. Mr. Millar having received this information, met the author the next day as usual, and then asked what price he demanded for his The famous Lord Bolingbroke being at Aix-la-Chapelle, during the treaty of peace at that place (at which time his attainder was not taken off), was asked by an impertinent Frenchman, Whether he came there in any public cha- racter? "No, sir," replied his lordship; "I come like a French minister, with no character at all." LORD BOLINGBROKE. burn's "justice." Everybody has heard of the book entitled, Burn's Justice of the Peace. The author of the book, Mr. Burn, was a curate in one of the northern counties of England. When he had completed it, he set out for London to dispose of it in the best way he could. When he arrived there, being an entire stranger in town, he applied to the landlord of the inn where he stop- ped, a decent-looking, obliging sort of a man, to see if he could recom- mend him to any bookseller, who might be likely to purchase his manuscript. The landlord readily introduced him to a bookseller of his acquaintance, who upon having the matter explained to him, beg- ged to look at the manuscript. The TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 277 work ? The author, dispirited with the former offer, said he was at a loss what to ask; for he had been already offered so small a price, that rather than accept of any- thing like it, he would throw the papers into the fire. What was this offer? said Mr. Millar. Only twenty pounds, said Mr. Burn, with great ingenuousness. But, said Mr. Millar, would you think 200 guineas too little? Too little! says Burn in surprise ; No. Well then, said Mr. Millar, the book shall be mine, and you shall have the money when you please. The bargain was instantly struck, and a bottle of old port was drank to the good luck of it. Mr. Millar found no reason to repent of his frankness, for the book sold amaz- ingly well; nor had the author any reason to be dissatisfied with his bargain, for Mr. Millar, with a spirit of candor and liberality that does not always belong to men of his profession, frankly sent 100 guineas to the author for every edition of the book that was print- ed in his life-time; and these were many: insomuch, that by the sale of this book alone, he cleared no less than £11,000. able stories told: mistakes in acts of Parliament - ' the new jail to be built from the materials of the old one, and the prisoners to re- main in the latter till the former was ready'-a sentence of trans- portation of seven years, ' half to go to the king, and the other half to the informer; it had been, of course, formerly a pecuniary pun- ishment, and, upon its being alter- ed, they overlooked the addition." "Aug. 21, 1818.-Dined with Dr. Parr: himself, his wife, and a friend he called 'Jack,' a clergy- man of £1000 a-year, who lives in his neighborhood, very much de- voted to him, and ready at a call to come and write letters for him, etc. etc.; his own hand being quite illegible (see ■what he says of it in preface to Fox's Characters}. He was very cordial and animated; hob-nobbed with me across the table continually; told me he had written whole sheets of Greek ver- ses against Big Ben (the Regent); showed them to me: the name he designated him by, I saw, was Phuskon, inflated or puffy. Told me they were full of -wit, which I took his word for, as they seemed rather puzzling Greek. Talked a good deal of Halhed, Sheridan's friend, and mentioned a curious interview which took place be- tween them about, the time of Hast- ings's business, by his (Parr's) in- tervention, in consequence of an attack made by Major Scott upon Fox in the house, charging him with having set on foot a negotia- tion with Mr. Hastings some years before. Fox, who knew nothing of the matter, had nothing to say in reply. Scott was present at Cato being asked how it hap- pened, that he had no statues erected to him, whilst Rome was crowded with those of so many others: "I would rather,answered he, "people should inquire why I have them not, than complain that 1 have." CATO. EXCERPTS FROM DIARY OF THOMAS MOORE. "Aug. 20, 1818. - Some toler- 278 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. this interview procured by Parr, and it appeared that the negotia- tion had been set on foot witiiout the knowledge of Fox, and that Sheridan was the chief agent in it. An explanation was accord- ingly made next night in the house by Scott. Parr's account of the abuse he poured out upon Scott at that interview-' Hot scalding abuse; it was downright lava, sir.' Spoke of the poem of Kracastorius as very nearly equal to Virgil." "Aug. 22,1818.-A gentleman told a punning epigram of Jekyl's upon an old lady being brought forward as a witness to prove a tender made: Garrow, forbear! that tough old jade Can never prove a tender maid." "Aug. 29, 1818.-A good sto- ry in Mrs. Crouch's Memoirs of Stephen Kemble, who, sleeping at an inn in a country town, was waked about daybreak by a strange figure, a dwarfj standing by his bed in extraordinary attire. Kemble raised himself up in bed, and questioned the figure, which said, ' I am a dwarf, as you per- ceive ; I am come to exhibit at the fair to-morrow, and I have mistaken the bed-chamber: I sup- pose you are a giant come for the same purpose.'" "Sept. 1, 1818.- Interrupted by Bowles, who never comes amiss ; the mixture of talent and simplicity in him delightful. His parsonage-house at Bremhill is beautifully situated ; but he has a good deal frittered away its beau- ty with grottoes, hermitages, and Shenstonian inscriptions: when company is coming he cries, ' Here, John, run with the crucifix and missal to the hermitage, and set the fountain going.' His sheep- bells are tuned in thirds and fifths ; but he is an excellent fellow not- withstanding ; and, if the waters of his inspiration be not those of Helicon, they are at least very sweet waters, and to my taste pleasanter than some that are more strongly impregnated." The story which is so pleasant- ly told by Rabelais, chapter vii of Book III, and the answer of Pan- tagruel to Panurge, when he con- sults him on his intended mar- riage, are copied from a sermon of John Rolinus, doctor of Paris, and monk of Cluny, on widow- hood. The passage appears to me singular enough to deserve transla- tion. He tells us, that a certain wid- ow having gone to ask the advice of her cure, whether she ought to mar- ry again, told him she was with- out support, and that her servant, for whom she had taken a fancy, was industrious, and well acquaint- ed with her husband's trade. The cure's answer was, that she ought to marry him. "And yet," said the widow, " I am afraid to do it; for when we marry, we run some risk of finding a master in our servants." " Well, then," said the curd, " don't take him." " But what shall I do ?" said the widow. " I cannot support the labor of my husband's business without assist- ance." " Marry him, then," said the cure. " Very well," said the widow; " but if he turns out a worthless fellow, he may get hold of my property and spend it." " Then you need not take him," ROLINUS'S SERMONS. TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 279 replied the curd. In this way the cure always coincided with the last opinion expressed by the widow; but seeing, at last, that her mind was really made up, and that she would marry the servant, he told her to take the advice of the bells of the church, and that they would counsel her best what to do. The bells rang, and the widow distinctly heard them say, "Prends ton valet: Prends ton val- et." * She accordingly returned and married him immediately. Some time afterward he drubbed her heartily, and she found, that, instead of being mistress, she had really become the servant. She re- turned to the cure, and cursed the moment when she had been credu- lous enough to act upon his advice. " Good woman," said the cure, " I am afraid you have not rightly understood what the bells said to you. He rang them again ; and then the poor widow heard clear- ly, Ne le prends pas: Ne le prends pas" (Don't take him: Don't take him) ; for the drubbing and bad treatment she had received had opened her eyes.-Menage. ters, and the Spaniards like kings. The Sicilians used to call him, Scipio Africanus; the Italians, David; the French, Hercules; the Turks, Julius Caesar; the Af- ricans, Hannibal; the Germans, Charlemagne ; and the Spaniards, Alexander the Great. M. Scarron was one day attack- ed so violently by hiccup, that his friends were apprehensive for his life. When the violence of the attack was a little abated, " If I survive," said he, turning to his friends, " if I survive, I shall write a tremendous satire against the hiccup." His friends certainly expected some very different res- olution. SCARRON. M. D'USEZ COMPLAISANCE. M. d'Usez was gentleman of honor to the French queen. This princess one day asked him what o'clock it was. He replied, " Madam, any hour your majesty pleases." A Jesuit who had been partic- ularly recommended to the cap- tain of a vessel, was sailing from France to America. The cap- tain, who saw that a storm was ap- proaching, said to him, "Father, you are not accustomed to the rolling of a vessel, you had better get down as fast as possible into the hold. As long as you hear the sailors swearing and blasphem- ing, you may be assured that there are good hopes : but if you should hear them embracing and recon- ciling themselves to each other, THE JESUIT IN A STORM. Charles V used to say, that the Portuguese appeared to be fools, and were so; that the Spaniards appeared wise, and were not so; that the Italians seemed to be wise, and were so; and that the French seemed fools, and were not so : That the Germans spoke like carters, the English like blockheads, the French like mas- NATIONAL CHARACTERISTICS. * Take your servant: Take your servant. This incident will probably remind our read- ers of Whittington. 280 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. you may make up > your accounts with heaven." As the storm in- creased, the Jesuit, from time to time, dispatched his companion to the hatchway to see how matters went upon deck. "Alas! father," said he, returning, " all is lost, the sailors are swearing like demo- niacs ; their very blasphemies are enough to sink the vessel." " Oh! heaven be praised," said the Je- suit, " then all's right." mies, and particularly Cardinal Richelieu. She said she did from her heart. " Madame," said he, " as a mark of reconciliation, will you send him the bracelet you wear on your arm?" "Nay," replied she, laying her head on the pillow, " that is too much!" Louis XIV, grave and dignified as he was, could not restrain the joy he felt on the birth of the Duke of Burgundy, on the 6th of August, 1682. He refused the attendance of his guards, and every one was allowed to address him. As all were admitted to the honor of kissing his hand, the Marquis Spinola, in the ardor of his zeal, bit his finger in doing so, and that so sharply, that the king was forced to call out. " I beg your majesty's pardon," said the marquis ; " if I had not bit your fin- ger, you would not have distin- guished me from the crowd." LOUIS XIV AND SPINOLA. A person meeting another riding, with his wife behind him, applied to him Horace's line-" Post equi- tem sedet atra cura," (gloomy care sits behind the rider). CLASSICAL APPLICATION. ORACLES. A person who had some dan- gerous enemies, whom he believed capable of attempting anything, consulted the Oracle to know whether he should leave the coun- try. The answer he obtained was, "Domine, stes securnsare- ply which led him to believe he might safely remain at home. Some days afterward, his enemies set fire to his house and it was with difficulty that he escaped with his life. Then recollecting the an- swer of the Oracle, he perceived, when too late, that the word was not Domine, but Domi ne stes se- curus.-Menage. LONG SPEECHES AND GRAY HAIRS. Louis XII one day looking at himself in his mirror, was aston- ished to see a number of gray hairs on his head. "Ah!" said he, " these must be owing to the long speeches I have listened to; and it is those of M. le in particular, that have ruined my hair." Fabro Chigi, who was after- ward Pope, under the title of Alexander VII, while nuncio in France, was present at the death of Mary de Medicis. He asked her if she pardoned all her ene- MARY DE MEDICIS. MARCO DE LODI. Marco de Lodi having present- ed a sonnet of his own composi- tion to Clement VII, the Pope found one of the lines in the first quatrain deficient in a syllable. TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 281 " Do not let that disturb your Ho- liness," said the poet; "in the next you will probably find a syllable too much, which will balance the defect." previous offense, it is probable Johnson would have been highly delighted. Praise, in general, was pleasing to him ; but, by praise from a man of rank and elegant accomplishments, he was pecul- iarly gratified. This courtly device failed of its effect. Johnson, who thought that " all was false and hollow," despised the honeyed words, and was even indignant that Lord Chesterfield should, for a moment, imagine that he could be the dupe of such an artifice. His expres- sion to Boswell concerning Lord Chesterfield, upon this occasion, was, " Sir, after making great pro- fessions, he had, for many years taken no notice of me ; but when my dictionary was coming out, he fell a-scribbling in The World about it. Upon which I wrote him a letter, expressed in civil terms, but such as might show him that I did not mind what he said or wrote, and that I had done with him." Dr. Johnson appeared to have had a remarkable delicacy with respect to the circulation of this letter ; for Dr. Douglas, Bishop of Salisbury, informed Boswell, that, having many years ago pressed him to be allowed to read it to the second Lord Hardwieke, who was very desirous to hear it (promising at the same time that no copy of it should be taken), Johnson seemed much pleased that it had attracted the attention of a nobleman of such a respecta- ble character; but, after pausing some time, declined to comply with the request, saying, with a smile, " No, sir, I have hurt the RACAN. Racan was a man of talent, and frequently said good things; but his voice was weak, and he spoke rather indistinctly. One day in a numerous company, when he was present, the conversation turned on some subject which gave an opportunity of introducing an agreeable story. When he had finished, seeing that the company, who probably had not heard it, did not laugh, he turned to Men- age, who was sitting near him, and said, " I see plainly that these gentlemen have not understood me-translate me, if you please, into the vulgar tongue." JOHNSONIAN A. The following are extracts from Boswell's Life: When the dictionary was upon the eve of publication, Lord Ches- terfield, who, it is said, had flat- tered himself with expectations that Johnson would dedicate the work to him, attempted, in a court- ly manner, to soothe and insinu- ate himself with the sage, con- scious, as it should seem, of the cold indifference with which he had treated its learned author; and further attempted to concili- iate him, by writing two papers in The World, in recommendation of the work ; and it must be con- fessed, that they contain some studied compliments, so finely turned, that, if there had been no 282 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. dog too much alreadyor words to this purpose. Dr. Adams expostulated with Johnson, and suggested that his not being admitted when he call- ed upon him, to which Johnson had alluded in his letter, was probably not to be imputed to Lord Chesterfield ; for his Lordship had declared to Dodsley, that "he would have turned off the best ser- vant he ever had, if he had known that he denied him to a man who would have been always more than welcome." And in confirmation of this, he insisted on Lord Chester- field's general affability and easi- ness of access, especially to litera- ry men. Johnson : " Sir, that is not Lord Chesterfield; he is the proudest man this day existing." Adams : " No, there is one person, at least, as proud ; I think, by your own account, you are the prouder man of the two." Johnson: " But mine was defensive pride." This, as Dr. Adams well ob- served, was one of those happy turns for which he was so remark- ably ready. Johnson having now explicitly avowed his opinion of Lord Ches- terfield, did not refrain from ex- pressing himself concerning that nobleman with pointed freedom. "This man," said he, "I thought had heen a lord among wits, but I find he is only a wit among lords!" And when his letters to his natural son were published, he observed, " They teach the morals of a whore, and the man- ners of a dancing-master." In 1776, Boswell showed him, as a curiosity which he had dis- covered, his Translation of Lobo's Account of Abyssinia which Sir John Pringle had lent, it being then little known as one of his works. He said, " Take no notice of it," or " don't talk of it." He seemed to think it beneath him, though done at six-and-twenty. Boswell said to him, " Your style, sir, is much improved since you translated this." He answered, with a sort of triumphant smile, " Sir, I hope it is." Mr., afterward Dr., Burney, during a visit to the capital, had an interview with him in Gough Square, where he dined and drank tea with him, and was introduced to the acquaintance of Mrs. Wil- liams. After dinner, Dr. Johnson proposed to Mr. Burney to go up with him into his garret, which being accepted, he there found five or six Greek folios, a deal writing-desk, and a chair and a half. Johnson, giving to his guest the entire seat, tottered himself on one with only three legs and one arm. Here he gave Mr. Burney Mrs. Williams's history, and showed him some volumes of his Shakspeare already printed, to prove that he was in earnest. Upon Mr. Burney opening the first volume, at the Merchant of Venice, he observed to him, that he seemed to be more severe on Warburton than Theobald. John- son : " O, poor Tib! he was ready knocked down to my hands ; Warburton stands between me and him." Burney: " But, sir, you'll have Warburton upon your bones, won't, you?" Johnson: " No, sir, he'll not come out; he'll only growl in his den." Burney: " But you think, sir, that Warbur- TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 283 ton is a superior critic to Theo- bald?" Johnson: "0, sir, he'd make two-and-fifty Theobalds cut into slices. The worst of War- burton is, that he has a rage for saying something, when there's nothing to be said." Burney: " Have you seen the letters which Warburton has written in answer to a pamphlet addressed To the Most Impudent Man alive V Johnson: " No, sir." Burney : " It is supposed to be written by Mallet." The controversy at this time raged between the friends of Pope and Bolingbroke; and War- burton and Mallet were the lead- ers of the several parties. Mr. Burney asked him then if he had seen Warburton's book against Bolingbroke's philosophy ? John- son : " No, sir, I have never read Bolingbroke's impiety, and there- fore am not interested about its confutation." Sir Thomas Robinson sitting with Johnson, said, that the King of Prussia valued himself upon three things :-upon being a hero, a musician, and an author. John- son: "Pretty well,sir,for one man. As to his being an author, I have not looked at his poetry; but his prose is poor stuff: he writes just as you may suppose Voltaire's footboy to do, who had been his amanuensis. He has such parts as the valet might have, and about as much of the coloring of the style as might be got by transcribing his works." When Boswell was at Ferney, he repeated this to Voltaire, in order to reconcile him somewhat to Johnson, whom he, in affecting the English mode of expression, had previously charac- terized as "a superstitious dog;" but after hearing such a criticism on Frederick the Great, with whom he was then on bad terms, he exclaimed, "An honest fellow!" Upon this contemptuous ani- madversion on the Kingof Prussia, Boswell observed to Johnson, "It would seem then, sir, that much less parts are necessary to make a king than to make an author; for the king of Prussia is confessedly the greatest king now in Europe, yet you think he makes a very poor figure as an author." Of Burke he said, " It was commonly observed, he spoke too often in Parliament; but nobody could say he did not speak well, though too frequently, and too familiarly." Talking of Tacitus, Boswell hazarded an opinion, that with all his merit for penetration, shrewd- ness of judgment, and terseness of expression, he was too compact, too much broken into hints, as it were, and therefore too difficult to be understood. Dr. Johnson sanc- tioned this opinion. " Tacitus, sir, seems to me rather to have made notes for a historical work, than to have written a history." He said, " Burnet's History of his own Times is very entertain- ing: the style, indeed, is mere chit-chat. I do not believe that Burnet intentionally lied; but he was so much prejudiced, that he took no pains to find out the truth. He was like a man who resolves to regulate his time by a certain watch, but will not inquire whether the watch is right or not." Goldsmith being mentioned- Johnson: " It is amazing how 284 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. little Goldsmith knows: he sel- dom comes where he is not more ignorant than any one else." Sir Joshua Reynolds: " Yet there is no man whose company is more liked." Johnson: "To be sure, sir, when people find a man of the most distinguished abilities as a writer, their inferior while he is with them, it must be highly grat- ifying to them. What Goldsmith comically says of himself, is very true-he always gets the better when he argues alone ; meaning, that he is master of a subject in his study, and can write well upon it; but when he comes into com- pany, he grows confused, and un- able to talk. Take him as a poet, his Traveler is a very fine per- formance; ay, and so is his De- serted Village, were it not some- times too much the echo of his Traveler. Whether, indeed, we take him as a poet, as a comic writer, or as an historian, he stands in the first class." Boswell: "An historian! my dear sir, you will not surely rank his compilation of the Roman History with the works of other historians of this age?" Johnson : " Why, who are before him?" Boswell: " Hume, Robert- son, Lord Lyttleton." Johnson: (His antipathy to the Scotch be- ginning to rise.) " I have not read Hume ; but doubtless, Gold- smith's History is better than the verbiage of Robertson, or the fop- pery of Dalrymple." Boswell: " Will you not admit the superior- ity of Robertson, in whose history we find such penetration-such painting ?" Johnson : " Sir, you must consider how that penetra- tion and that painting are em- ployed; it is not history, it is imagination. He who describes what he never saw, draws from fancy. Robertson paints minds, as Sir Joshua paints faces in a his- tory piece; he imagines an heroic countenance. You must look up- on Robertson's work as romance, and try it by that standard: history it is not." Johnson praised John Bunyan highly. " His Pilgrim's Progress has great merit both for invention, imagination, and the conduct of the story; and it has had the best evidence of its merit, the general and continued approbation of man- kind: few books, I believe, have had a more extensive sale. It is remarkable, that it begins very much like the poem of Dante; yet there was no translation of Dante when Bunyan wrote. There is reason to think that he had read Spenser." He talked of Izaak Walton's Lives, which was one of his most favorite books. Dr. Donne's Life, he said, was the most perfect of them. He observed, that "it was wonderful that Walton, who was in a very low situation in life, should have been familiarly received by so many great men, and that at a time when the ranks of society were kept more separate than they are now." Johnson praised the Spectator, particularly the character of Sir Roger de Coverly. He said, "Sir Roger did not die a violent death, as has generally been fancied: he was not killed; he died only be- cause others were to die, and be- cause his death afforded an oppor- tunity to Addison of some very fine TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 285 writing. We have the example of Cervantes making Don Quixote die. I never could see why Sir Roger is represented as a little cracked. It appears to me, that the story of the widow was intend- ed to have something superinduced upon it; but the superstructure did not come." Burt on's A natomy of Melancholy, he said, was the only book that ever took him out of bed two hours sooner than he wished to rise. Goldsmith, to divert the tedious minutes, while waiting for one of the guests at a dinner-party, strut- ted about, bragging of his dress, and appeared seriously vain of it (for his mind was wonderfully prone to such expressions): "Come, come," said Garrick, "talk no more of that: you are, perhaps, the worst -eh, eh!" Goldsmith was eagerly attempting to interrupt him, when Garrick went on laughing ironi- cally, " Nay, you will always look like a gentleman; but I am talking of being well or ill dressed." - "Well, let me tell you," said Gold- smith, " when my tailor brought home my blossom-colored coat, he said, ' Sir, I have a favor to beg of you:-when anybody asks you who made your clothes, be pleased to mention John Filby, at the Har- row, in Water Lane.'" Johnson: "Why, sir, that was because he knew the strange color would at- tract crowds to gaze at it, and thus they might hear of him, and see how well he could make a coat even of so absurd a color." Johnson : " I remember once being with Goldsmith in West- minster Abbey. While we sur- veyed the Poet's Corner, I said to him, from Ovid, Forsitan et nostrum noinen miscebitur istis. When we got to Temple-bar, he stopped me, pointed to the heads upon it, and slily whispered me, Forsitan et nostrum nomen miscebitur fstts." "At the Literary Club," says Boswell, " before Johnson came in, we talked of his Journey to the Western Islands, and of his com- ing away 'willing to believe the second sight,' which seemed to ex- cite some ridicule. I was then so impressed with the truth of many of the stories which I had been told, that I avowed my conviction, saying, 'He is only willing to be- lieve-I do believe; the evidence is enough for me, though not for his great mind. What will not fill a quart bottle will fill a pint bottle; I am filled with belief.'-'Are you ?' said Colman; ' then cork it up.'" Being by no means pleased with their inn at Bristol, Boswell said, "Let us see now how we should describe it." Johnson was ready with his raillery. "Describe it, sir? Why, it was so bad, that Boswell wished to be in Scotland!" CLASSIFICATION OF NOVELS. Novels maybe arranged accord- ing to the botanical system of Linnaeus. Monandria Monogynia is the usual class, most novels having one hero and one heroine. Sir Charles Grandison belongs to the Monandria Digynia. Those in which the families of the two lov- ers are at variance may be called 286 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. Dioecious. The Cryptogamia are very numerous, so arc the Poly- gamia. Where the lady is in doubtwhich of her lovers to choose, the tale is to be classed under the Icosandria. Where the party hesi- tates between love and duty, or avarice and ambition, Didynamia. Many are poisonous, few of any use, and far the greater number are annuals. they reckoned 14,13,12, etc., be- fore the Kalends of the following month; and from the first day of that month till the Nones, the 2d, 3d, 4th, etc., after the Kalends. AN EXTEMPORE DISCOURSE. A young preacher of a prepos- sessing appearance, and an agree- able voice and manner, having mounted the pulpit, was suddenly seized with loss of memory, and completely forgot his sermon. To have come down again would have been disgraceful. If he tried to preach, he had nothing to say. What was to be done in this ex- tremity ? He resolved to stand firm and to make the most of his voice and gestures, without using any but imperfect or unconnected expressions, such as, in fact, but, if, and again, to conclude, and so on. Never did a preacher appeal' to possess such fire. He bellowed, he uttered pathethic exclamations, he clapped his hands, he stamped with his feet. Everything shook about him, the very vault of the church echoed with his vehemence. The audience remained in pro- found silence; every one put for- ward his head, and redoubled his attention, to understand what was perfectly unintelligible. Those who were near the pulpit said, we are too near, we can hear nothing. Those who were farther off, re- gretted the distance at wnich they sat, thinking they were losing the finest things in the world. In short, the preacher kept his audi- ence on the stretch for three quar- ters of an hour; and retired with the applause of the whole audience, each of whom determined next ROMAN CALENDAR. Most of those who are acquaint- ed with the Roman manner of com- putation by Kalends, Ides, and Nones, are ignorant of the reason, which is this: The ancient Romans at first regulated their months ac- cording to the course of the moon, and having observed that it pre- sented three remarkable varieties every month,-the first, when it is concealed in conjunction with the sun ; the second, when it begins to be seen at setting; the third, when opposite to the sun, it is seen fully illuminated by his rays, - they called the first day of the month the Kalends, from the Latin word Celare, because for this day the planet was concealed; or, accord- ing to Juba, from the Greek word Kalein, because they then assem- bled the people to announce that the Nones, that is, the fair or mar- ket, would take place on the fifth day after. The day when the moon, beginning to reappear, was in its first quarter, they called the Nones, from the Greek Neos, and the day when it appeared full, the Ides, from the word Eidos, face, because it was then in its beauty, and showed its entire face. From the Ides, till the end of the month, TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 287 time to choose his seat better, in order not to lose the fruits of such a discourse.-Melange d'Hist, et de Lit. procured him at the age of twenty- eight. His brother, de Sericourt, who had followed the profession of arms, quitted it at the same time. Both resolved henceforth to dedi- cate themselves to God, and retired to a small mansion near Port- Royal de Paris. Their brothers De Sacy, De St. Elmi, and De Valmont joined them. After the arrest of the Abbe de St. Syrian, which took place in 1G38, Francis de Sondy, Archbishop of Paris, intimated to them by order of the court, that they must leave their house. They did so the next day, and went to reside at Port-Royal des Champs, where they had not remained more than two months, when they were again dislodged by order of the court. Thirteen months afterward, however, they were allowed to return. Several persons of distinguished merit joined these hermits, and from these the Society, which afterward received the title of Port-Royal, was formed. Among its members were the celebrated Arnauld, M. de Suylin, M. de Sacy, Arnaud d'Andilly, De Luzanzy, De Pom- ponne, De Beaurepaire, Sles Mar- the, Nicole, and Lancelot, who afterward turned Benedictine. The Society had no rules, no vows, no constitution, no cells, nor anything of the kind. They em- ployed themselves assiduously in prayer and study, and in the in- struction of youth in the sciences and the practice of virtue. Ra-' cine was educated there, and re- quested to be buried in the ceme- tery of Port-Royal, at the feet of his old master M. Hamon.-Ma- tanasiana. BOW TO TURN THE BRAIN. Nothing is so likely to turn the brain as intense application direct- ed to one of six things-the qua- drature of the circle; the multipli- cation of the cube; the perpetual motion ; the philosopher's stone ; judicial astrology; and magic. In youth, we may exercise our ima- gination upon them, in order to convince ourselves of their impos- sibility; but it argues a want of judgment to occupy ourselves with such inquiries at a more ad- vanced age. " Nevertheless," says Fontenelle, "the search has its advantages, for we find many things on the way that we never looked for." JULIUS SCALIGER. Julius Scaliger used to say, that he was ignorant of three things; of the cause of the interval which takes place between the parox- ysms of fever; how an idea, once forgotten, may be recalled to the memory; and the cause of the flux and reflux of the sea. Alas ! of how many things was he ignorant of which he says nothing. SOCIETY OE PORT-ROYAL. The society of Port-Royal des Champs was so called from a val- ley near Chartreuse, about six leagues from Paris. In 1637, the celebrated advocate, La Maitre, abandoned the bar, and resigned his office of Councillor of State, which his extraordinary merit had 288 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. GREGORY,VII. TALMUD. We find, in Machiavel and Car- dan, that Pope Gregory VII caused most of the valuable works of the ancients to be burned. It was this Pope who burned the works of the learned Varro, to prevent St. Augustin from being accused of plagiarism, the saint having stolen from him the greater part of his Treatise de Civitate Dei. The Talmud has been com- posed by certain Jewish doctors of the kingdom of Pontus, who had been summoned for that pur- pose by their own nation, in order that they might have something to oppose to the Christians. These doctors were descendants of the ten tribes of Israel, who were carried into captivity from Sama- ria by King Psalmanazar, the father of Sennacherib, in the time of Hosea. The "Talmud" was valued at 100 livres during the time of Joseph Scaliger. This book is a mixture of Syriac, He- brew, and the Vulgar Hebrew, which was the language of the school of the Rabbis, and which differs as much from the other as the Latin of Bartolus from that of Cicero. AN ARACHNOID GARMENT. Chapelain, the author of the Pucelie, was called by the acade- micians the Knight of the Order of the Spider, because he wore a coat so patched and pieced, that the stitches exhibited no bad resem- blance of the fibres produced by that insect. Being one day pres- ent at a large party given by the great Conde, a spider of uncom- mon size fell from the ceiling up- on the floor. The company thought it could not have come from the roof, and all the ladies at once agreed that it must have proceeded from Chapelain's wig; the -wig so celebrated by the well- known parody. He was so avari- cious, that though he had an in- come of 13,000 livres, and more than 240,000 in ready money, he used to wipe his hands on a hand- ful of rushes, in order to save towels. His avarice was the cause of his death ; he preferred crossing the street, while inunda- ted with water, to paying a liard for the use of a plank which was laid across. He caught a cold and oppression of breathing, of which he died.- Charpentier. GASSENDI, SIR MATTHEW HALE, AND OTHERS. Gassendi was accustomed to read, throughout the greater part of the night, by the lamp in the parish church, his parents being too poor to supply him with can- dles. Sir Matthew Hale relates, with regard to himself, that he labored for sixteen hours in the day dur- ing the first two years that he spent in the Inns of Court. William Prynne was exceed- ingly diligent; he read or wrote about sixteen hours in the day. To prevent loss of time, he caused his food to be laid on a table in his study; and when he was hun- gry, he made a scanty meal. TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 289 Descartes frequently studied fifteen hours in the day. M. de Buffon studied twelve or fourteen hours. Joseph Scaliger was so exceed- ingly fbnd of intellectual engage- ments, that he would sometimes remain in his study for two or three days without food. John Knox evinced a high opinion of the value of learning, when he said to Queen Mary of Scotland, in his blunt phraseology, " I am here now; yet I cannot tell what other men shall judge of me, that, at this time of day, I am absent from my book, and waiting at court." Carneades was so so enamored with the pursuits of knowledge, that he scarcely allowed himself time to pare his nails or comb his hair. Budaeus and Turnebus spent their wedding-days in the study. a cheeking, or keeking. The maid opened her eyes and mouth, and shook her head. " It's to cook," said the mistress, " to cook, to put in an iron tiling, in a pit-pat- pot." " Ish understand risht," said the maid, in her Coblentz patois. " It's a thing to eat," said her mistress, " for dinner- for deener-with sauce, soace- sovvose. What on earth am I to do?" exclaimed the lady in des- pair, but still making another at- tempt. " It's a little creature-a bird-a bard-a beard-a hen- a hone-a fowl-a fool: it's all covered with feathers-fathers- -feeders I" " Ila, ha!" cried the delighted German, at last getting hold of a catchword, " Ja, ja! fedders--ja woh 1" and away went Grettel, and in half an hour re- turned triumphantly, with a bun- dle of stationers' quills. An Englishman talking with a German friend, a man of a remark- ably philosophical cast of mind, and fond of clothing his sentiments in the graces of classical allusion, the discourse happened to turn upon the mortifications to which those subject themselves who seek after the vanities of this world. Our friend was for a stoical inde- pendence, and had Diogenes in his eye. "For mine self,' he ex- claimed, with rising enthusiasm. " I should be quite contentment for to live all my days in a dub, eating nothing else but unicorns I" (acorns.) The Dutch may be compared to their own turf, which kindles and burns slowly, but which, when once kindled, retains its fire to the last. THE DUTCH. ENGLISH AND GERMAN. An English lady resident at Coblentz, one day wishing to or- der of her German servant (who did not understand English) a boiled fowl for dinner, Grettel was summoned, and the experi- ment began. It was one of the lady's fancies, that the less her ■words resembled her native tongue, the more they must be like Ger- man. 'So her first attempt was to tell the maid that she wanted MENAGE. The Queen of Sweden (Chris- tiana) said of him, after he pub- lished his work on the Origin of 290 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. the French Language, "Menage is undoubtedly a very learned and excellent person, but he is very unaccommodating ; he will never allow a word to pass without its passport: he must always know whence it comes, and where it is going." " If ye knew the towardness of that young prince, your hearts would melt to hear him named, and your stomach abhor the mal- ice of them that would him ill. The beautifulest creature that liv- eth under the sun, the wittiest, the most amiable, and the gentlest thing of all the world. Such a capacity in learning the things taught him by his schoolmaster, that it is a wonder to hearsay. And, finally, he hath such a grace of posture, and gesture in gravity, when he comes into a presence, that it should seem he were al- ready a father, and yet passes he not the age of ten years. A thing, undoubtedly, much rather to be seen than believed." In his ninth year he wrote let- ters in Latin and French ; and in the British Museum are themes and orations in Latin, which he then composed. Curio, the Ital- ian reformer, told his tutors, " that by their united prayers, counsels, and industry, they had formed a king of the highest, even divine hopes." His ardent attachment and rev- erence to the Holy Scriptures are well known; and Foxe tells us "that he was not wanting in diligence to receive whatever his instructors would teach him. So that, in the midst of all his play and recreation, he would always keep the hours appointed to study, using the same with much atten- tion, till time called him again from his book to pastime. " In this, his study and keeping of his hours, he so profited, that Cranmer, beholding his toward- ness, his readiness in both tongues, WHAT SHOULD BE DONE AT ONCE. Shutting one's self up in a con- vent, marrying, and throwing one's self over a precipice, are three things which must be done without thinking too much about them. KING EDWARD VI. Though considerable talents and attainments have not always been associated with eminent sta- tions, a goodly number of the great are to be found in the list of those who have been richly en- dowed by their Creator, and have diligently improved his gifts. The young King Edward VI stands among the most prominent of these examples. This amiable prince was born in 1537, at Hampton Court. His mother was Jane Seymour, the third wife of Henry VIII. At the early age of six years, he was committted to the care of Sir Anthony Cook, and other learned preceptors, who were in- tent on his improvement in spirit- ual knowledge, as well as in science and learning. The man- ner in which these gentlemen per- formed their duties, and in which the prince improved, may be as- certained from an account written by William Thomas, a learned man, who was afterward clerk of the council. He says- TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 291 in translating from Greek to Lat- in, from Latin to Greek again, in declaiming with his schoolfellows, without help of his teachers, and that extempore, wept for joy, de- claring to Dr. Cox, his school- master, that he would never have thought it to have been in the prince, except he had seen it him- self." He became acquainted with seven languages, and well under- stood logic and theology. ROBERT HALL. Rev. Robert Hall, when a boy about six years of age, was sent to a boarding-school, where he spent the week, coming home on Saturday and returning on Monday. When he went away on Monday morning he would take with him two or three books from his father's library, to read at the intervals between school- hours. The books he selected were not those of mere amuse- ment, but such as required deep and serious thought. Before he was nine years old, he had read over and over again, with the deepest interest, Edwards on the Affections, Edwards on the Will, and Butler's Analogy. PRECOCITY OF GUIZOT. Guizot, the distinguished French statesman and historian, gave early promise of his great talents. He is called by a French writer " a child who had no childhood." When only seven years of age, young Guizot was placed at the gymnasium of Geneva, and devo- ted his whole soul to study. His first and only playthings were books; and at the end of four years the scholar was able to read, in their respective languages, the works of Thucydides and Demos- thenes, of Cicero and Tacitus, of Dante and Altieri, of Schiller and Goethe, of Gibbon and Shaks- peare. His last two years at col- lege were especially consecrated to historical and philosophical stud- ies. Philosophy, in particular, had powerful attractions for the young man. His mind, endowed by nature with a remarkable de- gree of logical strength, was just the one to unfold and ripen in the little Genevan republic, which has presented something of the learned and inflexible physiogno- my of its patron John Calvin. THE DOCTORS MATHER, OF BOSTON. Dr. Cotton Mather, who died in Boston, in 1728, was a man of unequaled industry, vast learning, and most disinterested benevo- lence. No person in America had at that time so large a library, or had read so many books, or had re- tained so much of what they had read. It was his custom to read fifteen chapters in the Bible every day. He wrote over his study- door, in capital letters, " be short." In one year he kept sixty fasts and twenty vigils, and published fourteen books. His publications amounted in all to 382, some of them being of huge dimensions. His Magnolia was the largest; it consisted of seven folio volumes. His Essays to do Good are read with pleasure and 292 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. profit even now. He lived to the age of sixty-five years. His father, Dr. Increase Ma- ther, was also a man of great in- dustry and erudition for the age in which he lived, and but little behind the son in point of mental activity and usefulness. He is said to have spent sixteen hours a-day in his study; and his ser- mons and other publications were very numerous. In a volume entitled, Bemarkables of the Life of Dr. Increase Mather, is a cata- logue of no less than eighty-five of his publications, not including many learned and useful prefaces written for other books. He died in his eighty-fifth year, having been a preacher sixty-six years. retary, and by the secretary of state at the time. All the diffi- cult passages and all the poetical portions are in the queen's own hand, and it is not a little curious, that in the translation of the lat- ter she had imitated all the variety of metre which is found in the work. It is therefore a literal, rather than a poetical translation. There are letters also discovered which identify this translation to have been made by the queen, and it is to be hoped that the pub- lic will yet be gratified with the publication of this literary curios- ity. From a document accom- panying this translation, it ap- pears that her majesty composed the work at Windsor, during five weeks of the winter season ; and from a courtly computation made by the queen's secretary, we col- lect the information, that less than twenty-four hours of labor were actually bestowed upon this man- uscript of many pages. queen Elizabeth's manu- scripts. In 1825, the son of Mr. Lem- on, the keeper of the state papers, discovered, on examining some of the papers of the reign of Eliz- abeth, a paper in the handwrit- ing of the queen, and marked " The Third Booke." Con- ceiving this to belong to some- thing of importance, he placed it carefully aside, and, by a diligent search, at length obtained the pa- pers of four other books, which proved to be an entire translation of Boethius de Consolatione Phi- losophies. In Walpole's Boy al and Noble Authors, it is mention- ed that Queen Elizabeth had translated this work ; but no ves- tige of it was known to exist. Nearly the whole of the work is in her majesty's own hand- writing ; but there are parts evi- dently written by her private sec- shelley's library. Shelley's library was a very lim- ited one. He used to say that a good library consisted not of many books, but a few chosen ones ; and being asked what he considered such, he said, " I'll give you my list-catalogue it can't be called: the Greek Plays, Plato, Lord Ba- con's Works, Shakspeare, the Old Dramatists, Milton, Goethe, Schil- ler, Dante, Petrarch and Boccac- cio, Machiavelli and Guicciardini, -not forgetting Calderon; and last, yet first, the Bible." It is not meant that this was all his col- lection. He had read few English works of the day; scarcely a novel TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 293 except Walter Scott's, for whose genius he had sovereign respect; Anastasius, by which .he thought Lord Byron profited in his Don Juan; and the Promissi Sposi. In speaking of Hope and Manzoni, he said, " that one good novel was enough for any man to write, and he thought both judicious in not risking their fame by a second attempt." to him, armed with his primer, against the soldier in full military array." POSTSCRIPTS TO LADIES' LET- TERS. George Selwyn once affirmed in company, that no woman ever wrote a letter without a postscript. " My next letter shall refute you," said Lady G. Selwyn soon after received a letter from her lady- ship, when, after her signature, stood " P. S. Who is right now, you or I ?" THE SCHOOLMASTER ABROAD. A modern writer, in a sketch of Lord Brougham, gives the origin of this popular phrase: " No orator of our times is more successful in embalming phrases full of meaning, in the popular memory. The well-known talis- raanic sentiment, ' The school- master is abroad,' is an instance. In a speech on the elevation of Wellington, a mere 'military chief- tain,' to the premiership, after the death of Canning, Brougham said, ' Field-marshal the Duke of Wel- lington may take the army-he may take the navy-he may take the great seal-he may take the mitre. I make him a present of them all. Let him come on with his whole force, sword in hand, against the constitution, and the English people will not only beat him back, but laugh at his assaults. In other times the country may have heard with dismay that ' the sol- dier was abroad.' It will not be so now. Let the soldier be abroad if he will; he can do nothing in this age. There is another per- sonage abroad-a personage less imposing-in the eyes of some, perhaps, insignificant. The school- master is abroad; and I trust WILKINS AND TIIE DUCHESS'S VOYAGE TO THE MOON. Dr. John Wilkins, a man of uncommon parts and abilities, in the reign of Charles II, has been laughed at, together with his chi- meras ; but even these proclaim themselves the chimeras of a man of genius. Such was his attempt to show the possibility of a voyage to the moon. In a conversation with the Duchess of Newcastle, her grace asked him, " Doctor, where am I to find a place for baiting at, in the wTay up to that planet?" "Mad- am," said he, " Of all the people in the world, I never expected that question from you, who have built so many castles in the air, that you might lie every night at one of your own." Some person observed to this acute and profound scholar, " I think 'De mortuis nil nisi bonum' is a good saying." " 'De mortuis nil nisi verumj' said Le Clerc, " is a better." " Why so ?" " Be- LE CLERC. 294 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. cause truth can do' no harm to the dead, and may do great good to the living." the author deliver the lecture of which it forms a part. " Fair-haired Frank Goodchild smiles at his work, whilst naughty Tom Idle snores over his loom. Frank reads the edifying ballads of Whittington and the London 'Prentice. Whilst that reprobate Tom Idle prefers Moll Flanders, and drinks hugely of beer, Frank goes to church of a Sunday, and warbles hymns from the gallery; while Tom lies on a tomb-stone out- side playing at halfpenny-under- the-hat, with street blackguards, and deservedly caned by the bea- dle. Frank is made overseer of the business, whilst Tom is sent to sea. Frank is taken into part- nership, and marries his master's daughter, sends out broken vict- uals to the poor, and listens in his night-cap and gown with the lovely Mrs. Goodchild by his side, to the nuptial music of the city bands and the marrow-bones and cleav- ers ; whilst idle Tom, returned from sea, shudders in a garret lest the officers are coming to take him for picking pockets. The Wor- shipful Francis Goodchild, Esq., becomes Sheriff of London, and partakes of the most splendid din- ners which money can purchase or aiderman devour; whilst poor Tom is taken up in a night cellar, with that one-eyed and disreput- able accomplice who first taught him to play chuck-farthing on a Sunday. What happens next? Tom is brought up before the jus- tice of his country, in the person of Mr. Aiderman Goodchild, who weeps as he recognizes his old brother 'prentice, as Tom's one- eyed friend peaches on him, as the BURKE AND LONSDALE'S NINE- PINS. The Earl of Lonsdale was so extensive a proprietor, and patron of boroughs, that he returned nine members every Parliament, who were facetiously called Lord Lons- dale's ninepins. One of the mem- bers thus designated, having made a very extravagant speech in the House of Commons, was answered by Mr. Burke, in a vein of the happiest sarcasm, which elicited from the house loud and continued cheers. Mr. Fox entering the house just as Mr. Burke was sit- ting down, inquired of Sheridan what the house was cheering. "O, nothing of consequence," replied Sheridan, "only Burke has knock- ed down one of Lord Lonsdale's ninepins." LORD DERBY. Lord Stanley (now Lord Der- by) once alluded to Lord Brough- am as " the noble lord who had just taken his seatbut chancing to look round, and seeing the ex- chancellor jumping about like a cricket, begged pardon, and said he meant his noble friend who " never took his seat." OLD LONDON RECOLLECTIONS HOGARTH'S " APPRENTICES." For the following genial and lively sketch, we are indebted to Mr. Thackeray's Lectures on the English Humorists. Its relish will be heightened to such readers as enjoyed the privilege of hearing 295 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. clerk makes out the poor rogue's ticket for Newgate. Then the end comes. Tom goes to Tyburn in a cart with a coffin in it; whilst the Right Honorable Francis Good- child, Lord Mayor of London, pro- ceeds to his Mansion House, in his gilt coach, with four footmen and a swordbearer, whilst the compa- nies of London march in the august procession, whilst the train-bands of the city fire their pieces and get drunk in his honor; and oh,crown- ing delight and glory of all, whilst his majesty the king looks out from his royal balcony, with his ribbon on his breast, and his queen and his star by his side, at the cor- ner house of St. Paul's Church- yard, where the toy-shop is now. " How the times have changed! The new Post-office now not dis- ad vantageously occupies that spot where the scaffolding is on the picture, where the tipsy train- bandman is lurching against the post, with his wig over one eye, and the 'prentice-boy is trying to kiss the pretty girl in the gallery. Past away 'prentice-boy and pretty girl! Past away tipsy trainband- man with wig and bandolier! On the spot where Tom Idle (for whom I have an unaffected pity) made his exit from this wicked world, and where you see the hangman smoking his pipe, as he reclines on the gibbet, and views the hills of Harrow or Hampstead beyond-a splendid marble arch, a vast and modern city-clean, airy, painted drab, populous with nursery-maids and children, the abodes of wealth and comfort- the elegant, the prosperous, the polite Tyburnia rises, the most re- spectable district in the habitable globe! " In that last plate of the Lon- don Apprentices, in which the apo- theosis of the Right Honorable Francis Goodchild is drawn, a ragged fellow is represented in the corner of the simple, kindly piece, offering for sale a broad side, pur- porting to contain an account of'the appearance of the ghost of Tom Idle, executed at Tyburn. Could Tom's ghost have made its appear- ance in 1847, and not in 1747, what changes would have been re- marked by that astonished escaped criminal 1 Over the road which the hangman used to travel con- stantly, and the Oxford stage twice a-week, go ten thousand carriages every day ; over yonder road, by which Dick Turpin fled to Wind- sor, and Squire Western journey- ed into town, when he came to take up his quarters at the Hercu- les Pillars on the outskirts of Lon- don, what a rush of civilization and order flows now ! What ar- mies of gentlemen with umbrellas march to banks and chambers, and counting-houses! What regiments of nursery-maids and pretty in- fantry, what peaceful possessions of policemen, what light broughams and what gay carriages, what swarms of busy apprentices and artificers, riding on omnibus-roofs, pass daily and hourly! Tom Idle's times are quite changed; many of the institutions gone into disuse which were admired in his day. There's more pity and kindness, and a better chance for poor Tom's successors now than at that 296 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. simpler period, when Fielding hanged him, and Hogarth drew O 7 o him." down his carpet and tumbles on it." goldsmith's playfulness. sterne's maudlin sensibility. " Sterne (says Mr. Thackeray) used to blubber perpetually in his study, and finding his tears infec- tious, and that they brought him a great popularity, he exercised the lucrative gift of weeping, he util- ized it, and cried on every occa- sion. I own that I don't value or respect much the cheap dribble of those fountains. He fatigues me with his perpetual disquiet, and his uneasy appeals to my risible or sentimental faculties. He is al- ways looking in my face, watching his effect, uncertain whether I think him an impostor or not; posture-making, coaxing, and im- ploring me. ' See what sensibil- ity I have-own now that I'm very clever-do cry now, you can't resist this.' The humor of Swift and Rabelais, whom he pretended to succeed, poured from them as naturally as song does from a bird; they lose no manly dignity with it, but laugh their hearty great laugh out of their broad chests as nature bade them. But this man-who can make you laugh, who can make you cry, too-never lets his reader alone, or will permit his audience repose; when you are quiet, he fancies he must rouse you, and turns over head and heels, or sidles up, and whispers a nasty story. The man is a great jester: not a good humorist. He goes to work systematically and of cold blood ; paints his face, puts on his ruff' and motley clothes, and lays The younger Colman relates the following anecdote of Gold- smith's playfulness with children: " I was only five years old," he says, " when Goldsmith took me on his knee one evening whilst he was drinking coffee with my father, and began to play with me, which amiable act I returned, with the ingratitude of a peevish brat, by giving him a very smart slap on the face; it must have been a tingler, for it left the marks of my spiteful paw on his cheek. This infantile outrage was followed up by summary justice, and I was locked up by my indignant father in an adjoining room to undergo solitary imprisonment in the dark. Here I began to howl and scream most abominably, which was no bad step toward my liberation, since those who were not inclined to pity me might be likely to set me free for the purpose of abating a nuisance. "At length a generous friend appeared to extricate me from jeo- pardy, and that generous friend was no other than the man I had so wantonly molested by assault and battery-it was the tender- hearted Doctor himself, with a lighted candle in his hand, and a smile upon his countenance, which was still partially red from the effects of my petulance. I skulked and sobbed as he fondled and soothed, till I began to brighten. Goldsmith seized the propitious moment of returning good-humor, TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 297 when he put down the candle, and began to conjure. He placed three hats, which happened to be in the room, and a shilling under each. TImj shillings he told me were England, France, and Spain. 'Hey presto cockalorum!' cried the Doctor, and lo, on uncovering the shillings, which had been dis- persed each beneath a separate hat, they were all found congre- gated under one. I was no poli- tician at five years old, and there- fore might not have wondered at the sudden revolution which brought England, France, and Spain all under one crown : but, as also I was no conjurer, it amaz- ed me beyond measure. . . . From that time, whenever the Doctor came to visit my father, 'I plucked his gown to share the good man's smile:' a game at romps constantly ensued, and we were always cordial friends and merry playfellows. Our unequal companionship varied somewhat as to sports as I grew older; but it did not last long; my senior playmate' died in his forty-fifth year, when I had attained my eleventh. ... In all the numer- ous accounts of his virtues and foi- bles, his genius and absurdities, his knowledge of nature and ignor- ance of the world, his ' compassion for another's woe' was always pre- dominant ; and my trivial story of his humoring a froward child weighs but as a feather in the re- corded scale of his benevolence." in the doctrine of presentiment would think it a pro]) to his theory. It is as striking as Swift's digres- sion on madness, in the Tale of a Tub. "Was I in a condition to stipulate with death, I should cer- tainly declare against submitting to it before my friends ; and, there- fore, I never seriously think upon the mode and manner of this great catastrophe, which generally takes up and torments my thoughts as much as the catastrophe itself; but I constantly draw the curtain across it with this wish, that the Disposer of all things may so or- der it, that it happen not to me in my own house-but rather in some decent inn. At home-I know it -the concern of my friends, and the last services of wiping my brows and smoothing my pillow, will so crucify my soul, that I shall die of a distemper which my phy- sician is not aware of; but in an inn, the few cold offices I wanted would be purchased with a few guineas, and paid me with an un- disturbed but punctual attention." It is known that Sterne died in hired lodgings, and I have been told that his attendants robbed him even of his gold sleeve-but- tons while he was expiring.-Ter- riar's lllust. DAVID HUME. Lord Charlemont relates the following anecdote of Hume, illus- trating his generous appreciation of the talent of his opponents: One day that he visited me in Lon- don, he came into my room laugh- ing, and apparently well pleased. " What has put you into this good humor, Hume?" said I. "Why, sterne's death. There is one passage in Sterne which the circumstances of his death render pathetic. A believer 298 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. man," replied he, " I have just now had the best thing said to me I ever heard. I was complaining in a company, where I spent the morning, that I was very ill-treated by the world, and that the censures put upon me w'ere hard and un- reasonable ; that I had written many volumes, throughout the whole of which there were but a few pages that contained any rep- rehensible matter, and yet, that for those few pages I was abused and torn to pieces. ' You put me in mind,' said an honest fel- low in the company, ' of an ac- quaintance of mine, a notary pub- lic, who, having been condemned to be hanged for forgery, lamented the hardships of his case; that, after having written many thou- sand inoffensive sheets, he should be hanged for one line.' " ence is, that it corresponds with the number of our fingers, in which all men are accustomed to reckon from their infancy. They count, in the first place, the number of their fingers. When the units ex- ceed the number of their fingers, they pass to a second ten. If the number of tens increases, they count these also on their fingers; and when the number of tens ex- ceeds the number of their fingers, they recommence on their fingers a new sort of calculation ; that is to say, of tens of tens, or hundreds; and afterward, of thousands, and so on. Thus, it is the number of the fingers with which nature has furnished man, as an instrument always ready to assist him in his calculations, which has led to the adoption of this number-a num- ber, in other respects less useful, and less fitted for the purpose, than the number of twelve, which is more susceptible of division; for 10 is divisible only by 2 and by 5, while 12 is divisible by 2, by 3, by 4, and by 6. The Roman ciphers afford a proof of the origin which I have just stated. They express units by the I's, which represent the fing- ers. Five is represented by a V, which represents the first and last fingers of the hand. Ten is rep- resented by an X, being two V's united at their bases, and express- ing the contents of both hands. Fifty is marked by a L, the half of the letter E, which is the same as C, and represents a hundred. Five hundred by a D, the half of the letter O, which is the same as M, and represents a thousand.- Huet. DOUBLING DOWN A PAGE, AND TURNING OVER A NEW LEAF. It being reported that Lady Caroline Lamb had, in a moment of passion, knocked down one of her pages with a stool, the poet Moore, to whom this was told by Lord Strangford, observed, " 0 I nothing is more natural for a liter- ary lady than to double down a page." "I would rather," replied his lordship, "advise Lady Caro- line to turn over a new leaf." DECIMALS. It is at first sight surprising, that in the progression of numbers, and in calculation, the number of ten, and the decimal progression, should have been preferred to all others. The cause of this prefer- TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 299 BOXHORN. it should be an inn, it looking like a pilgrim's going home, to whom this world was all as an inn, and who was weary of the noise and confusion in it. He added that the officious tenderness and care of friends was an entanglement to a dying man ; and that the uncon- cerned attendance of those that could be procured in such a place would give less disturbance.-• Burnet's History of his Times. A gentleman who had studied under Boxhorn, in Holland, told me that that professor had the most extraordinary passion for smoking and reading. In order to enjoy both at once, he had a hole made in the middle of the brim of his hat, through which he used to stick his lighted pipe when he intended to read or to compose. When it was empty, he refilled it, stuck it into the hole, and smoked away without requiring to put his hand to it; and this was his oc- cupation almost every hour of the day. Voltaire, when he was in Paris in 1778, lived in the house of the Marquis de Villette. One day the Marquis had invited a large party to dinner. Coming to table, Vol- taire did not find in its place before him his own particular cup, which he had marked with his catchet. " Where is my cup?" he inquired, his eyes sparkling, of a tall, simple domestic, whose spe- cial duty it was to wait upon him. The poor fellow, quite at a loss, stammered out some words. "En- emy of your master 1 " exclaimed the old man in a fury, " go, seek for my cup; I must have my cup, or I shall not dine to-day." The cup could not be found ; and, leav- ing the table in his passion, he walked off to his apartment and shut himself up. The guests were confounded and disappointed by the scene. At length it was agreed that Mr. Villevielle, to whom he was much attached, should go to him and try to soothe him. He knocked gently at the door. " Who is there ?" " It is I, Villevielle." " Ah," opening the door, "it is you, my dear Marquis. What is the purpose of this visit?" VOLTAIRE AND HIS CUP. Brebeuf, when young, had no taste for any author but Horace. One of his friends, named Gautier, on the contrary, liked nothing but Lucan. This preference was the cause of frequent disputes. To put an end to these, at last they agreed that each should read the poem which his companion preferred, examine it, and estimate its merits impartially. This was done, and the consequence was, that Gau- tier, having read Horace, was so delighted with him, that he scarce- ly ever left him ; while Brebeuf, enchanted with Lucan, gave him- self so wholly up to the study of his manner, that he carried it to a greater extent than Lucan him- self, as is evident from the trans- lation of that poem which he has left us in French verse. A FAIR EXCHANGE. Used often to say that, if he were to choose a place to die in, ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON 300 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. " I am here in the name of all our friends, who are grieved at your absence, to request you will come down, and to express the regret of M. de Villette, who has dismissed the simpleton who was the cause of your anger." " They invite me to come down ?" • " Yes, they im- plore you." " My friend, I dare not." "And why so?" "They must laugh at me below." " Can you admit such a thought? have we not all our notions in such matters ? has not every one his own glass, his own knife, his own pen?" "I see very well you are anxious to excuse me. Let us rather allow frankly that every one has his weaknesses; I blush at mine. Do you go down first, and I shall follow." Voltaire re- appeared a few minutes after, and seated himself at table with the awkward timidity of a child who has been detected in something foolish, and fears to be scolded. well enough ; but if he should go into Fleet Street, and sit upon a stall, and twirl a band-string, or play with a rush, then all the boys in the street would laugh at him. 3. Verse proves nothing but the quantity of syllables; they are not meant for logic.-Selden. Akenside's Pleasures of Imag- ination attracted much notice on the first appearance, from the ele- gance of its language, and the warm coloring of the descriptions. But the Platonic fanaticism of the foundation injured the general beauty of the edifice. Plato is indeed the philosopher of imagina- tion ; but is not this saying that he is no philosopher at all ? I have been told that Rolt, who afterward wrote many books, was in Dublin when that poem appeared, and actually passed a 'whole year there, very comfortably, by pass- ing for the author.- Walpole. AKENSIDE AND ROLT. POETRY AND PRACTICE. 1. It is a fine thing for chil- dren to learn to make verse ; but when they come to be men, they must speak like other men, or else they will be laughed at. It is ridiculous to speak, or 'write, or preach in verse. As it is good to learn to dance; man may learn his leg, learn to go handsomely; but it is ridiculous for him to dance when he should go. 2. It is ridiculous for a lord to print verses : it is well enough to make them to please himself, but to make them public is foolish. If a man, in a private chamber, twirls his band-strings, or plays with a rush to please himself, it is The greatest of men are some- times seized with strange fancies at the very moment when one would suppose they had ceased to be occupied with the things of this world. Sir Thomas More, at his execution, having laid his head upon the block, and perceiving that his beard was extended in such a manner that it would be cut through by the stroke of the executioner, asked him to adjust it properly upon the block ; and when the executioner told him he need not trouble himself about his beard, when his head was about to be cut ofij " It is of little conse- SIR THOMAS MORE. TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 301 quence to me," said Sir Thomas, " but it is a matter of some import- ance to you, that you should under- stand your profession, and not cut through my beard, when you had orders only to cut off my head." sation was so tiresome, as to weary every one who listened to it. A great princess, who had felt much curiosity to see him, used to say, after the visit ■was over, that Corneille ought never to be heard but at the Hotel de Bourgogne.* Nature, which had been so liberal to him in extraor- dinary things, had denied him more common accomplishments. When his friends used to remind him of these defects, he would smile gently, and say, " I am not the less Pierre Corneille." ANAGRAMS. The best anagram I have met with, is one which was shown me by the Duchess de la Tremouille. She was the sister of the Duke de Bouillon and of Marshal Turrenne, and her name was Marie de la Tour; in Spanish, Maria de la Torre, which a Spanish anagram- matist found to be exactly Amor de la Tierra.- Chevreau. SKEPTICISM. The skeptics, who doubt of everything, and whom Tertullian calls professors of ignorance, do affirm something, when they say we can affirm nothing, and admit that something is certain, when they maintain that nothing can be certainly known.- Chevreau. DR. CHALMERS BUTLER'S " ANALOGY." In the memoir of Dr. Chalmers, inserted in the Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, it is said that, on one occasion, when some person present was animad- verting upon the wealth of the Church of England, and gave as an example of its over-abundance the revenues of the see of Dur- ham, the Doctor exclaimed, with characteristic eagerness: " Sir, if all that has been re- ceived for the bishopric of Dur- ham, since the foundation of the see, were set down as payment for Butler's Analogy, I should es- teem it as a cheap purchase." CARMELINE THE DENTIST. Carmeline, the famous tooth- drawer, and maker of artificial teeth, had his portrait painted and placed in his chamber window, with a motto taken from Virgil's line on the Golden Bough, in the sixth book of the AEneid. "Uno avulso, non deficit alter."! The application was extremely happy. P. CORNEILLE. HELEN. Pierre Corneille, who has given such splendor of expression to the thoughts and sentiments of his heroes, had nothing in his external appearance that gave any indica- tion of his talent, and his conver- Every one speaks of the beau- tiful Helen, but few are aware that she had five husbands, The- seus, Menelaus, Paris, Deiphobus, * The theatre. t When one is drawn out, another is never wanting. 302 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. and Achilles ; that she was hanged in the Isle of Rhodes by the ser- vants of Polixo; and that, in the war of which she was the cause, 886,000 Greeks and 670,000 Tro- jans lost their lives. him some years after by George Lord Berkeley, he kept with much ado to his dying day. He was an exact mathematician, a curious calculator of nativities, a general read scholar, a through-paced phi- lologist, and one that understood the surveying of lands well. As he was by many accounted a se- vere student, a devourer of au- thors, a melancholy and humorous person; so by others, who knew him well, a person of great hon- esty, plain-dealing, and charity. I have heard some of the antients of Ch. Ch. often say that big com- pany was very merry, facete, and juvenile, and no man in his time did surpass him for his ready and dextrous interlarding his common discourses among them with verses from the poets, or sentences from classical authors, which being then all the fashion in the university, made his company more accepta- ble." He died in 1639.- Oxon- iana. A QUID PRO QUO. Masson, Regent of Trinity Col- lege, had asked one of his friends to lend him a book, which he wished to consult, and received for answer,-" That he never al- lowed his books to go out of his room, but that, if he chose to come there, he was welcome to read as long as he pleased." Some days afterward this pedant applied to Masson fbr the loan of his bellows, who replied, " That he never allowed his bellows to go out of his room, butthat, if he chose to come there, he was wel- come to blow as long as he pleased." BURTON, AUTHOR OF THE " ANAT- OMY OF MELANCHOLY." DR. BAINBRIDGE. In 1599, he was elected student of Christ Church, and " for form sake," says Wood, " though he wanted not a tutor, he was put under the tuition of Dr. John Bancroft, after Bishop of Oxon. In 1614, he was admitted to the reading of the sentences, and on the 29th of Nov., 1616, he had the vicaridge of St. Thomas par- ish, in the west suburb of Oxon, conferred on him by the dean and canons of Christ Church (to the parishoners whereof he always gave the sacrament in wafers), which, with the rectory of Se- grave, in Leicestershire, given to Dr. Walter Pope, in his life of Seth Ward, Bishop of Salisbury, speaking of the Doctor, says, " This is the same Dr. Bainbridge who was afterward Savilian pro- fessor of Astronomy at Oxford, a learned and good mathematician ; yet there goes a story of him which was in many scholars' mouths, when I was first admitted there, that he put upon the school- gate an affiche, or written paper, as the custom is, giving notice at what time, and upon what subject, the professor will read, which ended in these words, lecturus de TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 303 polls et axis, under which was written by an unknown hand as follows: of the Greek classics, one of which he generally published every year as a gift to the students of his house. He also wrote a system of logic for the use of a pupil of his, and printed it; but he pos- sessed so great a skill in architec- ture and music, that his excellence in either would alone have made him famous to posterity. The three sides of the quadrangle of Christ Church, called Peck-water Square, were designed by him, as was also the elegant chapel of Trin- ity College, and the Church of All Saints, in the High Street, to the erection whereof Dr. Radcliffe, at his solicitation, was a liberal con- tributor. Amidst a variety of honorable pursuits, and the cares which the government of his college subject- ed him to, Dr. Aldrich found leis- ure to study and cultivate music, particularly that branch of it which related both to his profes- sion and his office. To this end he made a noble collection of church music, consisting of the works of Palestrina, Carissimi, Victoria, and other Italian composers for the church, and by adapting with great skill and judgment English words to many of their motets, enriched the stores of our church, and in some degree made their works our own. In the Pleasant Musical Com- panion, printed in 1726, are two catches of Dr. Aldrich, the one, " Hark the bonny Christ-Church Bells," the other entitled " A smoking catch, to be sung by four men smoking their pipes, not more difficult to sing than diverting to hear." Doctor Bainbridge Came from Cambridge, To read de. polls et axis : Let him go back again, Like a dunce as he came, And learn a new syntaxis." He died in the year 1643. "Mr. Chilling worth,''says Bish- op Hare, " is certainly a good reasoner, and may be read with much advantage: but I fear the reading of him by young divines hath had one great inconvenience. They see little show of reading in him, and from thence are induced to think, there is no necessity of learning to make a good divine; nay, that if he had been more a scholar he had been a worse rea- soner ; and therefore not to study the ancient writers of the church, is one step to the being Chilling- worths themselves: I fear, I say, the reading of Mr. Chillingworth in their first years has had this in- fluence, to make them think, that good parts and good sense would do without learning, and that learn- ing is rather a prejudice than an improvement of them. But 'tis a great mistake to judge of a man's learning by the show that is made of it. Mr. Chillingworth had studied hard and digested well what he had read; and so must they who hope to write as well, and be as much esteemed." C HILLIN G WORTH. The learning of Dr. Aldrich, and his skill in polite literature, were evinced by his numerous publications, particularly of many DR. ALDRICH. 304 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. Dr. Aldrich's exclusive love of smoking was an entertaining topic of discourse in the university, con- cerning which the following story, among others, passed current: A young student of the college once finding some difficulty to bring a young gentleman-his chum-into the belief of it, laid him a wager that the dean was smoking at that instant, viz, about ten o'clock in the morning. Away, therefore, went the student to the deanery, where, being admitted to the dean in his study, he related the occa- sion of his visit. To which the dean replied, in perfect good hu- mor, " You see you have lost your wager, for I'm not smoking, but filling my pipe." The catch above mentioned was made to be sung by the dean, Mr. Sampson Est- wick, then of Christ Church, and afterward of St. Paul's, and two other smoking friends. Mr. Est- wick is plainly pointed out by the words, "I prithee Sam, fill."- CZromana. and manner of expression, they far surpassed the most elaborate compositions of other men. For such was the comeliness of his person, the melody of his voice, the decency of his action, and the majesty of his whole appearance, that he might well be pronounced the most complete pulpit orator of his age. H'e was the author of several works, and died in 1724. The following story is told as a proof of the Archbishop's good nature and fondness of a pun. His clergy dining with him, for the first time after he had lost his lady, he told them, he feared they did not find things in so good order as they used to be in the time of poor Mary; and, looking extremely sorrowful, added with a deep sigh, "She was, indeed, Mare Pacifi- cum!" A curate, who pretty well knew what she had been, called out, " Ay, my Lord, but she was Mare Mortuum first." Sir Wil- liam gave him a living of £200 per annum within two months af- terward. SIR WILLIAM DAWES, ARCHBISH- OP OF YORK. Sir William was the youngest son of Sir John Dawes, Bart. In 1G87, he was sent to St. John's College, from Merchant Tailor's school, but his father's title and estate descending to him, upon the death of his two elder brothers, about two years after, he left Ox- ford, and entered himself a noble- man in Catharine Hall, Cam- bridge. " His discourses," says the writer of his life, " were plain and familiar, and such as were best adapted to a country audi- ence, yet under his management The custom of persons Latiniz- ing their names was formerly very common. Of Oxford men, who frequently wrote their names in Latin, the following occur to my recollection:-Andrew Borde, An- dreas Perforatus; Nightingale, Philomelas; Bridgewater, Aque- pontanus; Gay ton, De Speciosa Villa; Turberville, De Turlnda Villa; Flood, De Fluctibus; Hol- yoke, De Sacra Quercu; Payne Fisher, Paganus Piscator; and John Aubrey, Joannes Albericus. - Oxoniana. LATINIZED NAMES. TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 305 COLLINS, THE POET. ure, of a light and clear com- plexion, with gray eyes, so very weak at times as hardly to bear a candle in the room, and to give him apprehensions of blindness. The following story is told of him while he was resident at Mag- dalen College:-It happened one afternoon, at a tea-visit, that sev- eral intelligent friends were as- sembled at his rooms to enjoy each other's conversation, when in comes a certain member of the uni- versity, as remarkable at that time for his brutal disposition as for his good scholarship ; who, though he met with a circle of the most peace- able people in the world, was de- termined to quarrel; and, though no man said a word, raised his foot, and kicked the tea-table and all its contents to the other side of the room. Our poet, though of a warm temper, was so confounded at the unexpected downfall, and so astonished at the unmerited in- sult, that he took no notice of the aggressor at that time, but, getting up from his chair, calmly began to pick up the slices of bread and butter, and the fragments of his china, repeating very mildly, " Invenias etiam disjecti membra poetae." - Oxoniana. Collins -was sent very young to Winchester College, where he was soon distinguished for his early proficiency, and his turn for ele- gant composition. In the year 1740, he came off first on the roll for New College, but there being no vacancy in that society, he en- tered a commoner of Queen's. On the expiration of the year, no va- cancy having happened during that time at New College, he left Queen's on being elected a Demy of Magdalen. He was soon tired of a college life, resigned his demy- ship, and went to London, where he commenced a man of the town, and was romantic enough to sup- pose that his superior abilities would draw the attention of the great world, by means of whom he was to make his fortune. In this pleasurable way of life he soon wasted his little property, but was relieved by a considerable legacy left him by a maternal uncle, a colonel in the army. He soon af- terward fell into a most deplorable state of mind. Without books, or steadiness and resolution to consult them if he had been possessed of any, he was always planning schemes for elab- orate publications, which were carried no further than drawing up proposals for subscriptions, some of which were published; and in particular one for "A His- tory of the Darker Ages." He was passionately fond of music; good-natured and affable; warm in his friendships, visionary in his pursuits, and temperate in his diet. He was of moderate stat- SYDNEY SMITH. A gentleman, residing in Bristol, in 1838, who signs himself R , was invited by Southey to accom- pany him and his son on a visit to Sydney Smith at Combe Fleury. He says: " We arrived at the village about noon, and, having alighted at the little inn, we all four proceeded toward the vicarage where Mr. 306 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. Smith resided, a country lad offi- ciating as our guide through the somewhat intricate lanes. We had proceeded about three-quarters of a mile, when the clodhopper, mounting a gate, pointed with his huge hand to a portly gentleman in a black dress and top-boots, who was leisurely riding along on a rough-looking cob, and opening his eyes and capacious mouth to the fullest extent of which each was capable, exclaimed, ' There be Passon Smith yander.' And, surely enough, the ' passon ' it was, and toward him we made our way. " He did not recognize Southey, but looking hard at him and us, was about to pass on, when the laureate went toward him and ac- costed him by name. Almost in- stant recognition took place, and the personal friends, although vio- lent political enemies, cordially greeted each other. Smith alight- ed from his horse, and directing our guide to take it to the stable, turned with us toward the house, asking a hundred questions, and ever and anon expressing his de- light at the unexpected visit. " The vicarage was anything but pleasantly situated, and, in it- self, more resembled a farm-house than a village pastor's ' modest mansion.' Everything about it was in sad disorder, and plainly enough evidenced that no woman's hand presided over the arrange- ment of the establishment. We got to the front door through a lit- tered-up court-yard, and, after passing through a stone-paved hall, were conducted into the libra- ry, a large room, full of old-fash- ioned furniture, where books, par- liamentary reports, pamphlets, and letters, lay all about, in most ad- mired confusion. " ' This is my workshop,' he ob- served to Southey; ' as black as any smithy in Christendom.' " And the neat and precise lau- reate seemed to think so, for he looked cautiously about for a clean chair, folded up his coat-tails, and was preparing to set down, when Smith, with a sly gravity, wiped with his handkerchief (none of the cleanest) the dust from an old folio edition of the works of one of the fathers of the church, and request- ed his friend to sit on it. " Southey shrunk from the pro- fanation, and, respectfully remov- ing the work, preferred the dusty chair. I do not think he much re- lished the joke, although he said nothing. I could not help think- ing that he was mentally compar- ing, or rather contrasting, the appearance of Smith's library with that of his own exquisitely neat one at Keswick. Alas ! ere long he would wander into that learned retreat, there gaze for hours, with an idiotic smile, on a favorite black letter volume, and then submit himself, like a child, to the guid- ing hand of an attendant, and be led out; for, in the days of his in- sanity, it was a strange fact, that although fond of finding his way into his beloved library, he never could discover the way out of it. " The conversation was pretty general, and chiefly related to the old friends of either party. Mr. Smith spoke of Coleridge in the highest terms, but severely depre- cated his indolence. Referring to TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 307 Charles Lamb's intemperate hab- its, he remarked, ' He draws so much beer that no wonder he buf- foons people-he must have a butt to put it in.' " At this time, the question of the authorship of that strange, but clever and learned book, the Doc- tor, was a doubtful one, and much mooted in literary circles. Many suspected, and indeed named, Southey as the writer; but he never either admitted or denied the fact of his being so. The con- versation turned on the subject, and Smi-th, with a roguish twin- kle in his eye, told Southey that he knew who the author was. Southey calmly inquired the name, and the reverend gentleman re- marked, ' I remember, some years since, enjoying a conversation with one Robert Southey, in which he used the exact words which 1 find here,' and he read from a page of the Doctor a passage, and then said, ' Now, Mr. Laureate, it needs no conjuror to convince any one of common sense that the writer of the passage I have read, and the utterer of those very words to me seven years since, are one and the same person.' Southey bit his lip, but said nothing. After his death, Mrs. Southey divulged the secret, which her husband kept till his death. I question whether she would have made known the fact of the authorship, had not some shabby fellows, by judicious nods and well-timed faint denials, gain- ed the credit of being connected with the work. "We sat down to a plain coun- try dinner, after which ' The glasses sparkled on the hoard.' "Like Friar Tuck, the canon of St. Paul's enjoyed creature com- forts, and many were the flashes of wit which set us in a roar. Southey was very abstemious, and refused wine, alleging his recent seizure as an excuse. Smith rat- tled away like a great boy, and, with the sole exception of Theo- dore Hook, I never heard any one so brilliant in conversation. No subject came amiss to him, and he seemed at home in every one. Of humbugs, both political and per- sonal, he had the most utter detes- tation, and freely expressed his opinions. I shall not soon forget the ridicule which he that day heaped on the head of Robert Montgomery, who had then just published his poem, Satan. "As to personal appearance, Sydney Smith was about the aver- age height, or a trifle above it, in- clined to corpulency, and of a fresh red-and-white complexion. The expression of his features was pleasing, and his snowy hair gave him an air of venerability. Good humor was the prevailing charac- teristic ; but when he talked with severity, his aspect became chang- ed, and few could have beheld un- moved his withering glance." THOMAS HOOD. Mr. Hood was born under Gresham's Grasshopper, in the city of London, in the year 1790, the son of Hood, of the firm of Vernor & Hood, in the Poultry, the publishers of Bloomfield and Kirke White, and the booksellers to whom we are indebted for the Beauties of England and Wales. One of his biographers has told us 308 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. that he completed his education at a finishing school at Camberwell, upon which Tom has some twenty good jokes in his Literary Remi- niscences. From Camberwell he went to Dundee, and soon after he was apprenticed to his uncle, Mr. Robert Sands, to learn the art and mystery of engraving. Here he soon found out the drift of his own genius; he left the burin for the pen, composed a few light pieces of poetry, got into notice, and, after Scott's death in 1821, be- came a sort of sub-editor of the London Magazine. It was at this time that he acquired the friend- ship of Lamb, Hazlitt, Cary, Allan Cunningham, Clare, and others, so delightfully pictured by Mr. Hood himself in his two short Literary Reminiscences. A volume of Odes and Addresses to Great Peo- ple gave him a rank and a repu- tation in literature for something done in a better kind of Colman vein. It was some time, however, before the real author was known; and Coleridge, after two perusals, wrote and taxed Lamb with the authorship of the work. This ■was high praise, and, as the young lady said of Dr. Johnson, from one who could not lie, and could not be mistaken. A Plea for the Midsummer Fairies vj&s followed by a volume of Whims and Oddities, inscribed to Sir Walter Scott; then came the Comic Annual, -with its six or seven years of clever and lively existence; then Tylney Hall, a story in three volumes, with one super-excellent character in it, called Unlucky Joe; then Up the Rhine, the result of a residence on the banks of that hurrying river; then Hood's Own, a volume of cullings from his comic lucubra- tions, with what he calls a new in- fusion of blood for general circula- tion. Here he gave us his two short Literary Reminiscences al- ready alluded to. On Hook's death, Hood became editor of the New Monthly Magazine, and, upon some disagreement with Mr. Col- burn, editor of a magazine of his own, bearing his own name. Hood was a little below the middle size, with a grave face, which habitually wore an air of melancholy. He was mistaken more than once in Germany, he tells us, for a regimental chaplain. His mouth, he informs us, was a little wry, as if it had always laughed on the wrong side. But Hood's was no willow-pattern face. He was silent in mixed company; a kind of Puritan in look, till an opportunity for a joke appeared, which he rose at like a trout- not, however, to be caught, but to catch others; his countenance brightened up with the rising wit; you saw a play around his mouth; his eyes sparkled, and all the ge- nius of the man stood full in the face before you. CHARACTERISTICS ' OF BYRON'S WRITINGS. Never had any writer so vast a command of the whole eloquence of scorn, misanthropy, and despair. That Marah was never dry. No art could sweeten, no draughts could exhaust its perennial waters of bitterness. Never was there such variety in monotony as that of Byron. From maniac laugh- 309 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. ter to piercing lamentation, there was not a single note of human anguish of which he was not mas- ter. He always described himself as a man of the same kind with his favorite creations, as a man whose heart had been withered, whose capacity for happiness was gone and could not be restored, but whose invincible spirit dared the worst that could befall him here or hereafter. How much of this morbid feel- ing sprang from an original dis- ease of the mind, how much from real misfortune, how much from the nervousness of dissipation, how much was fanciful, how much was merely affected, it is impossible for us, and would probably have been impossible for the most inti- mate friends of Lord Byron, to decide. Whether there ever ex- isted, or can ever exist, a person answering to the description which he gave of himself may be doubt- ed ; but that he was not such a person is beyond all doubt. It is ridiculous to imagine that a man whose mind was really imbued with scorn of his fellow-creatures, would have published three or four books every year in order to tell them so; or that a man who could say with truth that he neither sought sympathy nor needed it, would have admitted all Europe to hear his farewell to his wife, and his blessings on his child. In the second canto of Childe Harold, he tells us that he is insensible to fame and obloquy: "III may such contest now the spirit move, Which heeds not keen reproof nor partial praise." Yet we know, on the best evi- deuce, that a day or two before he published these lines, he was greatly, indeed childishly, elated by the compliments paid to his maiden speech in the House of Lords. What our grandchildren may think of the character of Lord Byron, as exhibited in his poetry, we will not pretend to guess. It is certain, that the interest which he excited during his life is with- out a parallel in literary history. The feelings with which young readers of poetry regarded him can be conceived only by those who have experienced it. To people who are unacquainted with real calamity, " nothing is so dainty sweet as lovely melan- choly." This faint image of sor- row has in all ages been consid- ered by young gentlemen as an agreeable excitement. Old gen- tlemen and middle-aged gentle- men have so many real causes of sadness, that they are rarely in- clined " to be as sad as night only for wantonness." Indeed, they want the power almost as much as the inclination. Among that large class of young persons whose reading is almost entirely confined to works of im- agination, the popularity of Lord Byron was unbounded. They bought pictures of him; they treas- ured up the smallest relics of him ; they learned his poems by heart, and did their best to write like him, and to look like him. Many of them practiced at the glass in the hope of catching the curl of the upper lip, and the scowl of the brow, which appear in some of his portraits. A few discarded their 310 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. neckcloths in imitation of their great leader. For some years the Minerva press sent forth no novel without a mysterious, unhappy, Lara-like peer. The number of hopeful undergraduates and medi- cal students who became things of dark imaginings, on whom the freshness of the heart ceased to fall like dew, whose passions had consumed themselves to dust, and to whom the relief of tears was denied, passes all calculation. This was not the worst. There was created in the minds of many of these enthusiasts a pernicious and absurd association between intellectual power and moral de- pravity. This affectation has passed away; and a few more years will destroy whatever yet remains of that magical potency which once belonged to the name of Byron.- Macaulay. these remarks are applicable ; we see the same inferiority of written characters generally following in the train of barbarism and igno- rance. During the first race of our kings, we find no writing which is not a mixture of Roman and other characters. Under the empire of Charlemagne and of Louis le Debonnaire, the charac- ters returned almost to the same point of perfection which charac- terized them in the time of Au- gustus, but in the following age there was a relapse to the former barbarism; so that for four or five centuries we find only the Gothic characters in manuscripts; for it is not worth while making an ex- ception for some short periods, which were somewhat more pol- ished, and when there was less inelegance in the formation of the letters.-Melange, d'Histoire et de Litterature. CHARACTERS IN WRITING. HOW TO CIRCULATE A SATIRE. The characters of writing have followed the genius of the barbar- ous ages; they are well or ill formed, in proportion as the sciences have flourished more or less. Antiquaries remark, that the medals struck during the consul- ship of Fabius Pictor, about 250 years before Augustus, have the letters better formed than those of an older date. Those of the time of Augustus, and of the following age, show characters of perfect beauty. Those of Diocletian, and Maximian are worse formed than those of the Antonines ; and again, those of the Justins and Justinians degenerate into a Gothic taste. But it is not to medals only that Mignot, the famous pastry-cook, having learned that he had been ill-treated by Despreaux, in his third satire, brought an action against him; but finding that he was merely laughed at, he deter- mined tp be more effectually re- venged. As he was celebrated for the excellence of his biscuits, and all Paris used to send for them to his shop, he caused to be printed, at his own expense, a great many copies of the Abbe Cotin's satire against Despreaux, and wrapped them around the biscuits he sold, in order to give them circulation ; thus associating his own talents with those of the Abbe. His indignation, however, TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 311 abated, when he found that Boi- leau's satire, far from being in- jurious to him, had completely brought him into fashion. The cause of this unfortunate prince's death is not exactly known. Some say that his father put him to death through jealousy; others, that it was done in order to be re- venged for his railleries and in- sults ; and others, in order to free the kingdom from a troublesome prince. Neither is the manner of his death known-whether he died by bleeding, like Seneca, or was suffocated between two mat- tresses, or strangled by the exe- cutioner. After his death a col- lection of his extravagances was made in Spanish. He possessed talents, but so unregulated by judgment, that it cannot be de- nied that he was in a great meas- ure the author of his fate. The little romance of Don Car- los, by the Abbe St. Real, is ex- tremely well written, and paints exact ly the character of this young prince ; but the truth of history is violated, as is generally the case in such works. DEODATI AND DUMOULIN. Deodati, professor at Geneva, was one day asked what he thought of the preaching of Dumoulin ; to which he answered sneeringly, " Clear waters are never deep." Shortly afterward, Deodati him- self delivered a sermon, and Du- moulin was asked his opinion. Du- moulin, who had learned the re- mark of the critic, parodied the expression, and answered, " Deep waters are never clear." Erasmus's " colloquies." Simon Colinet, a bookseller in Paris, in printing the Colloquies of Erasmus, threw off an impres- sion of 80,000 copies. This num- ber appears surprising; but we must recollect that books were then more rare than they are now, and were constantly sought after with more avidity. The bookseller, also, had the address to circulate a report, that the Colloquies had been prohibited, in order to in- crease the demand-a device which was successful. ORIGINES. Paulus Jovius is the first who has introduced mottoes : Dorat the first who brought anagrams into fashion. Rabelais is the first who has written satires in French prose: Etienne Jodelle the first who introduced tragedies into France. The Cardinal of Ferrara, archbish- op of Lyons, is the first person who had a tragi-comedy performed on the stage by Italian comedians. The first sonnet which appeared in French, is attributed to'Jodelle. DON CARLOS. Don Carlos, son of Philip II of Spain, had composed a book on the subject of his father's trav- els, with the title, The Great and Wondrous Travels of King Philip. As these travels consisted merely of excursions from Madrid to the Escurial, and from the Escurial to Madrid, Philip caused Don Car- los to be tried by the Inquisition. INTELLECTUAL GLADIATORSHIP. The celebrated Father Simon, of the Oratoire, had long delayed 312 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. taking on himself the order of priesthood, on account of his great and profound study; but in con- sequence of a peremptory order from his superior, he was at last obliged to leave his house at July, and to set out for Meaux, to re- ceive his ordination. He arrived, with two of his companions, after the usual hour of examination. M. de Ligny, who was then bishop of the diocese, seeing these fa thers arrive at this uncommon hour, thought they must be some igno- rant fellows, who had come with the view of annoying him; and under this impression, he recom- mended to the examiner, whom he had kept to dine with him, not to spare them. The signal being given, the examiner, turning to M. de Simon, said to him, in a grave tone, " I shall not ask you if you understand Latin : I know it is taught in your college with reputation. Horace, however, has his difficulties. Will you explain to me the first satire?" presenting to him the book. M. Simon having acquitted himself well, the examiner went on-" And philos- ophy-I suppose you are pretty fairly stocked with?" M. Si- mon, who was in the practice of teaching it, answered modestly, that he studied it every day. The examiner having stated a captious argument, M. Simon escaped adroitly by a distinguo. " I see," said the examiner, " you know something of philosophy- and theology no doubt ? a priest of the Oratoire without theology, would be as bad as a Cordelier without Latin." With this the examiner attacked M. Simon on the controversial questions of the time; but finding him ortho- dox on them, he abandoned them formore solid discussion. "We see enough," said he, " of theolo- gians and philosophers in the ecclesiastical state, but we have but few who devote themselves to the study of the Oriental lan- guages and read the Scriptures in the original. Ah ! how delight- ful," said he, turning to the bishop, " to read these sacred volumes as they were written I what charms does the Hebrew possess for men of learning!" The prelate cast- ing down his eyes, answered, that he had heard as much from Mes- seurs de Muys and de Flavigny, both very learned Hebraists. The examiner, turning to M. Si- mon, asked him if he had any taste for this beautiful language ? M. Simon observed, that he was acquainted with its elements, and always had a peculiar plea- sure in the study of the Scriptures in the original. " How delighted I am to hear it!" said the exam- iner ; " and how seldom do we meet with minds so well-directed as yours! Tell me, however, what is the Hebrew name for Genesis?" " Beresith" replied M. Simon. The field being thus opened, the combat began ; both parties became animated; they declaimed, they argued, they cited polyglots, and rabbis, ancient and modern. The examiner, con- founded at such a display of eru- dition, made but a feeble resist- ance. M. Simon pressed him, pushed him on all sides, and gave him no quarter. The examiner stumbled at last, and was fairly TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 313 beaten down, and trampled under foot by his tremendous antagonist. The bishop, who laughed from his very heart, was delighted to witness and prolong the battle; but seeing that dinner was getting cold, and taking pity, too, on the discomfited examiner, he gave his benediction to M. Simon, assuring him that, next day, he and his brethren should be admitted to holy orders without farther exam- ination. The prelate went to din- ner, the examiner to dry the per- spiration produced by the debate, and M. Simon to his lodging, along with his companions, laugh- ing in his sleeve at the result of the examination.-Melange, dTHis- toire et de Litterature. ill repaid by those to whom they dedicate their books. The only reward which Theodore Gaza re- ceived from Sixtus IV for his dedication of the Treatise of Aris- totle on the Nature of Animals, was the price of the binding of his book, which the Pope generously repaid to him. Tasso was not more successful with his dedica- tions. Ariosto, in presenting his poems to the Cardinal d'Este, was saluted with a sarcasm, which will be remembered as long as his works. The historian Dupliex, a very fertile author, presenting one of his books to the Duke of d'Epernin, that nobleman, turning abruptly toward the Pope's nun- cio, who was present, remarked, " This is one of your breeding au- thors ; he is delivered of a book every month." Descartes, when in Holland, had, with a great deal of industry, constructed an automaton girl, (which gave rise to the report that he had a daughter named Fran- chine), in order to prove demon- stratively that brutes have no souls, and are merely well-con- structed machines, which are put in motion by the impression of ex- ternal substances that strike against them, and communicate to them a portion of their motion. Hav- ing put this machine on board a vessel, the captain had the curiosi- ty to open the chest into which it was packed, and surprised at the appearance of the automaton, which moved like an animated being, he got frightened, and threw it into the sea, thinking it was the devil. DESCARTES. BIBLIOMANIA. The bibliomania has been on the increase among men of letters for a century past: and some wishing to form vast libraries, have search- ed not only the whole of Europe, but also the East, to discover an- cient books and rare manuscripts ; which has been the source of many impostures and ridiculous mis- takes. Toward the close of last century, some cheats or ignorant persons sent over from India to Paris a number of Arabian man- uscripts, in excellent condition, and written in a very beautiful character. They were received with profound respect by those who knew nothing of the matter ; but as soon as those acquainted with the language cast their eyes upon them, they discovered that DEDICATIONS. Authors are frequently but very 314 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. these rare volumes were common registers and account-books of Arabian Merchants 1 Risum te- neatis amici. tive, is his means. It is his sword and his shield, his panoply, and his chariot of war. In all his writings, accordingly, there is nothing to raise or exalt our no- tions of human nature-but ev- erything to vilify and degrade. We may learn from them, per- haps, to dread the consequences of base actions, but never to love the feelings that lead to generous ones. There is no spirit, indeed, of love or of honor in any part of them ; but an unvaried and har- assing display of insolence and animosity in the writer, and vil- lany and folly in those of whom he is writing. Though a great polemic, he makes no use of gen- eral principles, nor ever enlarges his views to a wide and compre- hensive conclusion. Everything is particular with him, and, for the most part, strictly personal. To make amends, however, we do think him quite without a com- petitor in personalities. With a quick and sagacious spirit, and a bold and popular manner, he joins an exact knowledge of all the strong and the weak parts of every cause he has to manage; and, without the least restraint from delicacy, either of taste or of feel- ing, he seems always to think the most effectual blows the most ad- visable, and no advantge unlawful that is likely to be successful for the moment. Disregarding all the laws of polished hostility, he uses, at one and the same mo- ment, his sword and his poisoned dagger-his hands, and his teeth, and his envenomed breath-and does not even scruple, upon occa- sion, to imitate his own yahoos, swift's power of invective. Jeffrey, in his review of the works of Swift, more especially the Tale of a Tub, Gulliver, and the Polite Conversation, character- izes them as follows : " Their dis- tinguishing feature, however, is the force and vehemence of the invective in which they abound; the copiousness, the steadiness, the perseverance, and the dex- terity with which abuse and ridicule are showered upon the adversary. This, we think, was, beyond all doubt, Swift's great talent, and the weapon by which he made himself formidable. He was, without exception, the great- est and most efficient libeler that ever exercised the trade ; and pos- sessed, in an eminent degree, all the qualifications which it requires: a clear head-a cold heart-a vindictive temper-no admiration of noble qualities-no sympathy with suffering-not much con- science-not much consistency- a ready wit-a sarcastic humor- a thorough knowledge of the baser parts of human nature-and a complete familiarity with every- thing that is low, homely, and fa- miliar in language. These were his gifts ; and he soon felt for what ends they were given. Almost all his works are libels ; generally upon individuals, sometimes upon sects and parties, sometimes upon human nature. Whatever be his end, however, personal abuse, di- rect, vehement, unsparing invec- 315 by discharging on his unhappy victims a shower of filth, from which neither courage nor dex- terity can afford any protection. Against such an antagonist, it was, of course, at no time very easy to make head; and accordingly his invective seems, for the most part, to have been as much dreaded, and as tremendous as the personal ridicule of Voltaire. Both were inexhaustible, well-directed, and unsparing ; but even when Vol- taire drew blood, he did not mangle the victim, and was only mischievous when Swift was bru- tal. Any one who will compare the epigrams on M. Franc de Pompignan with those on Tighe or Bettesworth, will easily under- stand the distinction." TAELE-TALK AND VARIETIES. comfort. Wherever he came, the ordinary forms of society were to give way to his pleasure; and everything, even to the domestic arrangements of a family, to be suspended for his caprice. If he was to be introduced to a person of rank, he insisted that the first advances and the first visit should be made to him. If he went to see a friend in the country, he would order an old tree to be cut down, if it obstructed the view from his window-and was never at his ease unless he was allowed to give nicknames to the lady of the house, and make lampoons upon her acquaintance. On going for the first time into any family, he frequently prescribed beforehand the hours for their meals, sleep, and exercise: and insisted rigor- ously upon the literal fulfillment of the capitulation. From his in- timates he uniformly exacted the most implicit submission to all his whims and absurdities; and car- ried his prerogative so far, that he sometimes used to chase the Grattans and other accommoda- ting friends, through the apart- ments of the deanery, and up and down stairs, driving them like horses, with a large whip, till he thought he had enough of ex- ercise. All his jests have the same character of insolence and coarseness. When he first came to his curate's house,he announced himself as " his mastertook pos- session of the fireside, and order- ed his wife to take charge of his shirts and stockings. When a young clergyman was introduced to him, he offered him the dregs of a bottle of wine, and said, he swift's personal character. Of Swift's personal character, his ingenious biographer has given almost as partial a representation, as of his political conduct-a great part of it indeed has been antici- pated, in tracing the principles of that conduct-the same arrogance and disdain of mankind, leading to profligate ambition and scurrili- ty in public life, and to domineer- ing and selfish habits in private. His character seems to have been radically overbearing and tyran- nical ; for though, like other ty- rants, he could stoop low enough where his interests required it, it was his delight to exact an implicit compliance with his humors and fancies, and to impose upon all around him the task of observing and accommodating themselves to his habits, without the slightest regard to their convenience or 316 always kept a poor parson about him to drink up his dregs. Even in hiring servants, he chose to in- sult them, by inquiring into their qualifications for some filthy and degrading office. And though it may be true, that his after-con- duct was not exactly of a piece with those preliminaries, it is ob- vious, that as no man of propel' feelings could submit to such im- pertinence, so no man could have a right to indulge in it. Even considered merely as a manner assumed to try the character of those with whom he lived, it was a test which no one but a tyrant could imagine himself entitled to apply ; and Swift's practical con- clusion from it was just the re- verse of what might be expected. He attached himself to those only who were mean enough to bear this usage, and broke with all who resented it. While he had some- thing to gain or to hope from the world, he seems to have been oc- casionally less imperious ; but, af- ter he retired to Ireland, he gave way without restraint to the na- tive arrogance of his character ; and, accordingly, confined himself almost entirely to the society of a few easy-tempered persons, who had no talents or pretensions to come in competition with his ; and who, for the honor of his acquaint- ance, were willing to submit to the dominion he usurped. A singular contrast to the rudeness and arrogance of this behavior to his friends and dependents, is afforded by the instances of ex- travagant adulation and base hu- mility, which occur in his address- TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. es to those upon whom his fortune depended.-Jeffrey. PORSON. Professor Person being once at a dinner-party where the conver- sation turned upon Captain Cook and his celebrated voyages around the world, an ignorant person, in order to contribute his mite to- ward the social intercourse, asked him, "Pray, was Cook killed on his first voyage?" "I believe he was," answered Person, "though he did not mind it much, but im- mediately entered on a second." Person said of a prospect shown to him, that it put him in mind of a fellowship-a long, dreary walk, with a church at the end of it. POPULAR TEACHING. Bulwer, in his England and the English, hits off the literary char- latans most aptly: "At present a popular instruc- tor is very much like a certain master in Italian, who has thriven prodigiously upon a new experi- ment on his pupils. "J was a clever fellow, and full of knowledge which nobody wanted to know. After seeing him in rags for some years, I met him the other day most sprucely attired, and with the complacent and sanguine air of a prosperous gentleman. "'I am glad to see, my dear sir,' said I, ' that the world wags well with you.' "'It does.' "'Doubtless your books sell fa- mously.' "'Bah, no bookseller will buy TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 317 them. No, sir, I have hit on a better metier than that of writing books. I am giving lessons in Italian.' " ' Italian I why, I thought when I last saw you, that you told me Italian was the very language you knew' nothing about.' "'Nor did I, sir; but as soon as I had procured scholars, I began to teach myself. I bought a dic- tionary. I learnt that lesson in the morning which I taught my pupils at noon. I found I was more familiar and explanatory, Vms fresh from knowing little, than if I had been confused and over- deep by knowing much. I am a most popular teacher, sir; and my whole art consists in being just one lesson in advance of my scholars.' " Tucker undertook the care of him, put him to school at Gloucester, and from thence sent him to Ox- ford. Here he gradually rose in academical success - fellow of Wadham, professor of Arabic, canon of Christ Church, and He- brew professor. HUMOROUS SAYING OF CHARLES V. Charles V, who spoke fluently several European languages, used to say, that we should speak Span- ish with the gods, Italian with our female friends, French with our male friends, German with sol- diers, English with geese, Hun- garian with horses, and Bohemian with the devil. There is an edition of the Bible known by the name of the Vinegar Bible, from the erratum in the title to the twentieth chapter of St. Luke, in which "Parable of the Vineyard" is printed "Parable of the Vinegar." It was printed in 1717, at the Clarendon press. THE VINEGAR BIBLE. White was a very extraordinary man, of great profundity as an Asi- atic linguist. He was first dis- covered by the late Dean Tucker, working as an apprentice to a pool- weaver, in a village either in Glou- cestershire or Somersetshire. At this village, on a certain day, was to be a dinner-party. The dean, strolling about before dinner, chanced to go into a poor weaver's shop. He took up a dirty, tatter- ed Greek Testament. "How comes this here ? who reads this book?" "Sir, my lad is always poring over such books." On speaking to the lad, he found him well versed in Greek and Latin. By appointment he waited upon the dean in the afternoon, who in- troduced him to the company. A collection was made for him. PROFESSOR WHITE. A DICTIONARY LIBRARY. The apt reply of a distinguished American scholar to a benefactor of the institution of learning with which he was connected, when an increase of the library was the sub- ject of discussion, deserves perpet- ual remembrance. "We need more books," said the professor. " More books! " said the mer- chant ; " why, have you read through all you have already?" " No; I never expect to read them all." 318 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. "Why, then, do you want more?" " Pray, sir, did you ever read your dictionary through ?" " Certainly not." "Well, a library is my diction- ary." playing on his side, by a success- ful stroke, insured the victory to the king's party. "Well done," said the king; "a brave stroke for a monk!" " Sire," replied the monk, "your majesty can make it the blow of an abbe when you please." Some days afterward the abbacy of Bourmayen became vacant, and the king presented the situation to him. SCHOLASTIC CONTROVERSY. Henry, in his History of Eng- land, states that the following parts of learning were cultivated, in some degree, in Britain, dur- ing the period from 106Gtol216: grammar, rhetoric, logic, meta- physics, physics, ethics, scholastic divinity, the canon law, arithmetic, geometry, astronomy, astrology, and medicine. He also gives the following, to show the trifling questions that were agitated by the logicians of that period: "When a hog is carried to market, with a rope tied about its neck, which is held at the other end by a man, whether the hog is carried to market by the rope or the man ? " " Literary wars," says Bayle, " are sometimes as lasting as they are terrible." A disputation be- tween two great scholars was so interminably violent, that it lasted thirty years! He humorously compares it to the German war, which lasted as long. A female devotee, who confess- ed the great attachment she had to play, was reminded by her confes- sor of the sad loss of time which it occasioned. "Ah, true," said she, " there is a deal of time lost in shuffling the cards." LOSS OF TIME. Pope Innocent XI was the son of a banker. He was elected on St. Matthew's day, and in the evening a pasquinade appeared on the statue: - "They found a man sitting at the receipt of cus- tom." POPE INNOCENT XI. QUANTITY AND QUALITY. A marquis said to a financier, "I would have you to know that I am a man of quality." "And I," replied the financier, " am a man of quantity." ROME. Some one telling the famous Jerome Bignon, that Rome was the seat of faith: "That is true," said he; "but then faith is like some people, who are never to be found at home." M. Bossuet, Bishop of Meaux, at eight years of age, preached with grace; he delivered a sermon at that age at the Hotel de Ram- bouillet. It was nearly midnight when he closed, and Voiture, who was present, remarked as he rose to go, " I have never heard a ser- mon so early-or so late. BOSSUET. Francis I, was one day playing at tennis, when a monk, who was FRANCIS I. TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 319 CANDOR. audience, who found this explana- tion much more interesting than the former subject of discussion. The first president of the par- liament of Paris, asked M. Mon- tauban, one day as he rose to speak, whether he would be long. " Very," replied the advocate cool- ly. " At least," replied the mag- istrate, " you are candid." Henry IV liked a brief reply. He once met an ecclesiastic, to whom he said, "Whence do you come? Where are you going! What do you want?" The eccle- siastic replied instantly, "From Bourges-to Paris-a benefice." " You shall have it," replied the monarch. BREVITY. SANTEUIL. Santeuil was crossing the court of the college of Cardinal leMorne, when he met a scholar who was walking up and down, composing his theme which he held in his hand. Santeuil, guessing what he was employed about, pulled the paper out of his hand with a tre- mendous expression of counten- ance, translated it instantly into ele- gant Latin, and returned it to him, saying, " If your regent asks you who composed this theme, tell him it was the devil." He then hurried off, making his cloak fly about him, and raising a cloud of dust all about. The terrified student re- treated instantly into college, and repeated to the regent the history of the apparition of the devil. The Jesuit, who saw that the theme was composed in the most elegant Latin, and that the student told the story with perfect sincerity and good faith, was puzzled what to think of the matter. Soon after, Santeuil was present at a public discussion which took place in the hall of the Jesuits. The scholar recognized his old acquaintance, and immediately called out in an agony of fear, "The devil! the devil!" Santeuil, perceiving that he was detected, related the story, to the infinite amusement of the THE SUN. Some astronomers, who had been making observations, thought they perceived several spots in the sun. Voitiere happened shortly after- ward to be in a company, where he was asked if there were any news. "None," said he; "but that I hear very bad reports of the sun." "Foreigners cannot enjoy our Shakspeare," said Sherlock to Vol- taire. " That is true," replied he; " they are acquainted with his plays only through translations, which retain slight faults, while the great beauties are lost: a blind man cannot be persuaded of the beauty of the rose, when his fin- gers are pricked by the thorns." SHAKSPEARE. THE PREACHER. A Gascon preacher stopped short in the pulpit; it was in vain that he scratched his head; noth- ing would come out. "My friends," said he, as he walked quietly down the pulpit stairs, "my friends, I pity you, for you have lost a fine discourse." 320 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. VOLTAIRE AND MONTESQUIEU. but move between the cage of the eagle and the window of his apart- ment, from which he had a view of the great road. At length his courier appeared, and along with him, the Esculapius so much wish- ed for; Voltaire raised a cry of joy ; flew to meet him, gave him a most distinguished reception, and lavished on him prayers and prom- ises to interest him for his sick favorite. The man, astonished at a reception to which he was little accustomed, examined the wounds of the eagle. Voltaire, full of anxiety, sought to read in his eyes his hopes and fears. The doctor declared, with the air of a profes- sor, that he would not venture to pronounce on the case until after the first dressing was removed; but promised to repeat his visit on the morrow, and departed, hand- somely paid. On the morrow Vol- taire was on thorns, and at last the decision was, that the physi- cian could not answer for the life of the eagle ; a new source of dis- quietude. Voltaire's first ques- tion every morning to one of his servants, named Madeline, whose business it was to wake him, was, " How is my eagle ? " " Very poor- ly, sir,-very poorly." One day at length Madeline answered, laugh- ing : " Ah, sir, your eagle is no longer sick." "It is cured then! What happiness!" "No; it is dead 1" " Dead ! my eagle dead ! and this you tell me laughing?" "Why, sir, it was so lean, it is all the better dead." " How, lean ! " exclaimed Voltaire in a rage; "an excellent reason, truly! I suppose you must kill me also because I am lean. You baggage! to laugh Voltaire having given a repre- sentation of his Orphan of China, at the Delices near Geneva, Before it appeared in Paris, the Presi- dent Montesquieu, who was pres- ent, fell fast asleep. Voltaire threw his hat at his head, saying, " He thinks he is in court." " No, no," said Montesquieu, awaking, " in church." VOLTAIRE'S " MARIANNE." Voltaire's Marianne was at first only once acted. It is said, that the public being divided as to the merit of the work, the question was oddly settled. The farce, which happened to be played that evening, was entitled, The Mourn- ing:-"For the deceased play, I suppose," said a critic in the pit; and this decided the fate of the piece. voltaire's eagle. The greatest geniuses have al- ways their weaknesses to connect them with the ordinary race of mankind. Voltaire was not ex- empt from this tribute which na- ture seems to exact from great men, as an expiation for their superiority. The following anec- dote is in point:-Voltaire took great delight in a young eagle which he kept chained in the court of his chateau at Ferney. One day the eagle fell to fighting with two cocks, and was severely wounded. Voltaire, disconsolate, sent an ex- press to Geneva, with directions to bring a man who passed there as a pretty expert animal doctor. In his impatience, he did nothing TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 321 at the death of my poor eagle, be- cause it was lean ! because you are in good condition yourself, you think it is only people of your stamp that should have a right to live ? Out of my sight! begone!" Madame Denis, hearing the noise, ran to her uncle, and asked what had discomposed him. Voltaire told her the particulars, continuing to repeat: " Lean! lean ! So then I must be killed too ." At length he insisted that Madeline should be dismissed. His niece feigned compliance, and ordered the poor girl to keep herself out of his sight in the chateau. And it was only after two months that Voltaire asked about her. " She is very unfortunate," said Mad- ame Denis, " she has not succeed- ed in getting a place at Geneva; which happens from its being known that she was turned off from the chateau." " It is all her own fault. Why laugh at the death of my eagle because it was lean ? However, she must not be allowed to starve ; let her come back, but let her beware of pre- senting herself before me, do you hear ? " Madame Denis promised she should not, and upon this Ma- deline came forth from her con- cealment, but carefully kept out of the way of her master. One day, however, Voltaire rising from table, found her standing opposite him; Madeline colored, and, with downcast eyes, wished to stammer out some excuses : " Not a word more of it," said he; " but mind you at least, that it is not neces- sary to kill everything which hap- pens to be lean." JOHNSON AND THE POETESS. " When last in Lichfield," says Anna Seward, " Johnson told me that a lady in London once sent him a poem which she had writ- ten, and afterward desired to know his opinion of it. ' Madam, I have not cut the leaves. I did not even peep between them.' He met her again in company, and she again asked him after the 'trash.' He made no reply, and began talking to another person. The next time they met, she asked him if he had yet read her poem. He answered, ' No, madam, nor never intend to ! ' Shocked at the unfeeling rudeness he thus record- ed of himself, I replied, that I was surprised any person should ob- trude their writings upon his at- tention ; adding, that if I could write as well as Milton or Gray, I should think the best fate to be desired for my compositions was exemption from his notice. I ex- pected a sharp sarcarsm in return, but he only rolled his large head in silence. "Johnson told me once, he ' would hang a dog that read the Lycidas of Milton twice.' ' What, then,' replied I, 'must become of me, who can say it by heart, and who often repeat it to myself with a delight which grows by what it feeds upon?' 'Die!' returned the growler, ' in a surfeit of bad taste.' Thus it was that the wit and aweless impoliteness of the stupendous creature bore down by storm every barrier which reason attempted to rear against his in- justice." 322 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. CRITICISM OF A HATTER'S SIGN. ed preacher of his day, addressing himself in a prophetic style to Richard I, King of England, told him he had three daughters to marry, and that, if he did not dis- pose of them soon, God would punish him severely. " You are a false prophet," said the king; "I have no daughter." " Pardon me. sir," replied the priest, "your majesty has three, ambition, ava- rice, and luxury; get rid of them as fast as possible, else assuredly some great misfortune will be the consequence." " If it must be so, then," said the king with a sneer, " I give my ambition to the tem- plars, my avarice to the monks, and my luxury to the prelates." A journeyman hatter, a com- panion of Dr. Franklin, on com- mencing business for himself, was anxious to get a handsome sign- board with a proper inscription. This he composed himself, as fol- lows : " John Thompson, hatter, •makes and sells hats for ready money" with the figure of a hat subjoined. But he thought he would submit it to his friends for their amendments. The first he showed it to thought the word hat- ter tautologous, because followed by the words " makes hats," which showed he was a hatter. It was struck out. The next observed, that the word "makes" might as well be omitted, because his cus- tomers would not care who made the hats; if good, and to their mind, they would buy, by whomsoever made. He struck that out also. A third said, he thought the words " for ready money " were useless; as it was not the custom of the place to sell on credit, every one who purchased expected to pay. These, too, were parted with, and the inscription then stood, "John Thompson sells hats." " Sells hats!" says his next friend; "why, who expects you to give them- away? What, then, is the use of the word ? " It was struck out, and hats was all that remained attached to the name of John Thompson. Even this inscription, brief as it was, was reduced ulti- mately to " John Thompson," with the figure of a hat subjoined. IMPROMPTUS. It is a difficult matter to make a good impromptu. I believe, for my own part, that none are good but those that are made at leisure. -Menage. It was observed by Madame Necker, that Voltaire had extract- ed from his genius everything of which it was susceptible; that in his case it was like a sponge, which he had drained of its contents to the last drop. voltaire's genius. VOLTAIRE AND THE ENGLISH- MAN. An Englishman who stopped at Ferney, on his way to Italy, offer- ed to Voltaire to bring him from Rome whatever he desired. " Good," said the philosopher, " bring me the ears of the grand Inquisitor." The Englishman, in the course of a familiar conver- Foulques de Neully, a celebrat- RICHARD I. TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 323 sation with Clement XIV, related to him this piece of pleasantry. " Tell Voltaire, for me," answered the Pope, laughing, " that our In- quisitor is no longer possessed of ears." with unmixed contempt. But those only judge of him correctly who take in at one view Bacon in speculation and Bacon in action. They will have no difficulty in comprehending how one and the same man should have been far before his age, and far behind it; in one line the boldest and most useful of innovators, in another line the most obstinate champion of the foulest abuses. In his libra- ry, all his rare powers were under the guidance of an honest ambi- tion, of an enlarged philanthropy, of a sincere love of truth. There,' no temptation drew him away from the right course. Thomas Aquinas could pay no fees. Duns Scotus could confer no peerages. The master of the sentences had no rich reversions in his gift. Far different was the situation of the great philosopher when he came forth from his study and his labo- ratory to mingle with the crowd which filled the galleries of White- hall. In all that crowd there was no man equally qualified to render great and lasting services to man- kind. But in all that crowd there was not a heart more set on things which no man ought to suffer to be necessary to his happiness, on things which can often be obtained only by the sacrifice of integrity and honor. To be the leader of the human race in the career of improvement, to found on the ruins of ancient, intellectual dynasties a more prosperous and a more en- during empire, to be revered by the latest generations as the most illus- trious among the benefactors of mankind, all this was within his reach. But all this availed him Bautru, in presenting a poet to M. d'Hemery, addressed him, " Sir, I present to you a person who will give you immortality; but you must give him something to live upon in the meantime." THE LATEST INFORMATION. M. de E was relating a story. M. de B said to him, " That cannot be, for I have a let- ter of the 31st, which says the contrary." " Ah," replied the narrator, " but mine is of the 3 2d! " IMMORTALITY. CASAUBON. Casaubon being present during the discussion of a thesis in the Sorbonne, listened to a very long and stubborn dispute, which was carried on in a style so barbarous and unintelligible to him, that he could not help remarking, as he left the hall, ''I never listened to so much Latin before without un- derstanding it! " bacon's inconsistencies. The difference between the soaring angel and the creeping snake was but a type of the dif- ference between Bacon the phi- losopher, and Bacon the attorney general, Bacon seeking for truth, and Bacon seeking for the seals. Those who survey only one-half of his character may speak of him with unmixed admiration, or 324 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. nothing while some quibbling spe- cial pleader was promoted before him to the bench, while some heavy country gentleman took precedence of him by virtue of a purchased coronet, while some pander, happy in a fail' wife, could obtain a more cordial salute from Buckingham, while some buffoon, versed in all the latest scandal of the court, could draw a louder laugh from James.-Macaulay. on fire, and the smoke bursts out at his mouth and nose 1 " M. DE BAUTRU. M. de Bautru had been often pressed by the Queen to show her his wife. At last she told him plainly, that she was determined to be presented to her. Bautru, who had resisted as long as he possibly could, promised to bring her with him after dinner; "but, please your Majesty," added he, " she is terribly deaf." " O, no matter," said the Queen, " I will talk loud." He immediately went home to prepare his wife for the interview, and warned her to speak as loud as possible, as the Queen would be unable otherwise to understand her. He brought her to the Lou- vre in the evening, and the Queen immediately opened the conference by bawling as loudly as possible, while Madame de Bautru answer- ed her in the same tone. The King, who had been apprised of the whole by Bautru, laughed with all his heart at the scene. At last the Queen, who perceived it, said to Madame de Bautru, " Is it not the case that Bautru has made you believe that I am deaf?" Madame de Bautru admitted that it was so. " Ah, the villain! " continued the Queen, " he told me the same of you."-Menage. THE RETORT COURTEOUS. M. le Comte de was, like many others who take the name of Count, without the property. In a company where I was present, he once endeavored to turn into ridicule an abbe, who, according to custom, had assumed the name, without possessing a benefice. " It is strange," said he, "that we should have known each other so long, and yet that I don't know whereabouts your abbey lies." " What 1 " said the abbe, " don't you know? It is within your county."-Menage. Tobacco was first brought into repute in England by Sir Walter Raleigh. By the caution he took in smoking it privately, he did not intend it should be copied. But sitting one day, in deep medita- tion, with a pipe in his mouth, he inadvertently called to his man to bring him a tankard of small-beer. The fellow, coming into the room, threw all the liquor into his mas- ter's face, and running down stairs, bawled out, " Fire! Help ! Sir Walter has studied till his head is THE FIRST SMOKER. American publishers usually pay authors 10 per cent, on the retail price of their works. But authors of extraordinary popular- ity, in some instances, have re- ceived from 20 to 40 per cent. AMERICAN COPYRIGHTS. TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 325 Stephens, author of Travels in the Holy Land, etc., had received from his publishers, the Harpers, as early as 1848, more than fifteen thousand dollars; and Prescott,for his Life of Ferdinand and Isa- bella, and his Conquest of Mexico, had received some twenty or twen- ty-five thousand dollars from the same firm. INVITATIONS. You are not invited to an en- tertainment: it is because you have not bought the invitation, which he who makes it sells to those who flatter him, and are obsequious to him. Instead of a good supper, then, I have nothing. Yes; you have the pleasure of knowing you have not commended the man you disliked, nor endured his insolent behavior.-Epictetus. THE "COTTER'S SATURDAY NIGHT." The early patroness of Burns, Mrs. Dunlop, of Dunlop, had an old housekeeper, a sort of privil- eged person, who had certain aristocratical notions of the family dignity, that made her utterly as- tonished at the attentions that were paid by her mistress to a man in such low worldly estate as the rustic poet. In order to overcome her prejudice and surprise, her mistress persuaded her to peruse a MS copy of the Cotter's Satur- day Night, which the poet had just then written. When Mrs. Dunlop inquired her opinion of the poem, she replied, with a quaint indifference, " Aweel, madam, that's vera week" "Is that all you have to say in its favor?" asked the mistress. " 'Deed, ma- dam," she returned, " the like o' you quality may see a vast in't; but I was aye used to the like o' all that the poet has written about in my ain father's house, and atweel I dinna ken how he could hae described it ony other gate." When Burns heard of the old wo- man's criticism, he remarked that it was one of the highest compli- ments ho had ever received. EVIL-SPEAKING. If anybody tells you such an one has spoken ill of you, do not refute them in that particular; but answer, had he known all my vices he had not spoken only of that one.-Ibid. CARDINAL RICHELIEU. Amidst the important occupa- tions of the Cardinal Richelieu, he generally found time to unbend a little from the fatigue attendant on the ministry. He was fond of violent exercises, particularly after meals, but did not like to be sur- prised in these moments of amuse- ment and pleasure. M. de Bois- robert, who was constantly with him, told me that one day M. de Grammont, who, at the Palais Royal, was considered as one of the family (having espoused one of the Cardinal's nieces), and who, of course, possessed the liberty of free entry at all times, broke in upon the Cardinal after dinner, while amusing himself with leap- ing in the great gallery. M. de Grammont, like an able courtier, told the Cardinal he could leap 326 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. much better than he, and immedi- ately began leaping five or six times. The Cardinal, who was as accomplished a courtier as himself, perfectly understood his meaning, and afterward distinguished him more than ever by his favor. the particulars already enumera- ted, I shall despair of ever recom- mending myself to her good graces. '-Dr. Beattie to Hon. C. Boyd. THE FAIR SEX, BY THE FAIREST OF THE SEX. SYMPTOMS OF GREATNESS. I have never had any great esteem for the generality of the fair sex ; and my only consolation for being of that gender has been, the assurance it gave me of never being married to any one among them ; but, I own, at present, I am so much out of humor with the actions of Lady H , that I never was so heartily ashamed of my petticoats before. You know, I suppose, that by this discreet match she renounces the care of her children; and I am laughed at by all my acquaintance for my faith in her honor and understand- ing. My only refuge is the sin- cere hope that she is out of her senses, and taking herself for Queen of Sheba, and Mr. M for King Solomon. I do not think it quite so ridiculous; but the men, you may well imagine, are not so charitable, and they agree in the kind reflection, that nothing hin- ders women from playing the fool but not having it in their power. The many instances that are to be found to support this opinion, ought to make the few reasonable more valued-but where are the reasonable ladies ?-Lady M. W. Montagu. I flatter myself (says Beattie) I shall soon get rid of this infirmity [a distressing giddiness from which he was slowly recovering^; nay, that I shall ere long be in the way of becoming a great man. For, have I not headache, like Pope ? vertigo, like Swift? gray hairs, like Homer? Do I not wear large shoes (for fear of corns), like Vir- gil? and sometimes complain of sore eyes (though notof lippitude), like Horace ? Am I not at this present writing invested with a garment not less ragged than that of Socrates ? Like Joseph, the patriarch, I am a mighty dreamer of dreams ; like Nimrod, the hun- ter, I am an eminent builder of castles (in the air). I procrasti- nate like Julius Csesar; and very lately, in imitation of Don Quix- ote, rode a horse, lean, old, and lazy, like Rosinante. Sometimes, like Cicero, I write bad verses; and sometimes bad prose, like Virgil. This last instance I have on the authority of Seneca. I am of small stature, like Alexan- der the Great; I am somewhat inclinable to fatness, like Dr. Ar- buthnot and Aristotle; and I drink brandy and water, like Mr. Boyd. I might compare myself in relation to many other infirmities, to many other great men; but if fortune is not influenced in my favor by AN AUTHOR SOLICITING PAT- RONAGE. The distresses of authors, some- times, on receiving patronage, are as great as that which renders TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 327 patronage necessary. On this subject, a story is told of the ec- centric Wynne. A short time previous to his publishing his History of Ireland, he expressed a desire to dedicate it to the Duke of Northumberland, who was just returned from being lord-lieutenant of that country. For this purpose he waited on Dr. Percy, and met with a very polite reception. The Duke was made acquainted with his wishes, and Dr. Percy went as the messenger of good tidings to the author. But there was more to be done than a formal introduction: the poor writer intimated this to the good doctor; who, in the most delicate terms, begged his acceptance of an almost new suit of black, which, with a very little alteration, might be made to fit. This, the doctor urged, would be best, as there was not time to provide a new suit, and other things necessary for his de- but, as the Duke had appointed Monday in the next week to give the historian an audience. Mr. Wynne approved of the plan in all respects, and, in the meantime, had prepared himself with a set speech, and a manuscript of the dedication. But, to digress a lit- tle, it must be understood that Dr. Percy was considerably in stature above Mr. Wynne, and his coat sufficiently large to wrap round the latter, and conceal him. The morning came for the author's public entry at Northumberland House; but, alas! one grand mis- take had been made ; in the hurry of business, no application had been made to the tailor for the necessary alteration of his clothes: however, great minds are not cast down by ordinary occurrences. Mr. Wynne dressed himself in Dr. Percy's friendly suit, together with a borrowed sword, and a hat under his arm of great antiquity; then taking leave of his trembling wife, he set out for the great house. True to the moment he arrived. Dr. Percy attended, and the Duke was ready to receive our poet, whose figure at this time presented the appearance of a suit of sables hung on a hedge-stake, or one of those bodiless forms we see swing- ing on a dyer's pole. On his in- troduction, Mr. Wynne began his formal address; and the noble Duke was so tickled at the singu- larity of the poet's appearance, that, in spite of his gravity, he burst the bonds of good manners ; and at length, agitated by an en- deavor to restrain risibility, he leaped from his chair, forced a purse of thirty guineas into Mr. Wynne's hand, and hurrying out of the room, told the poet he was welcome to make what use he pleased of his name and patron- age. IGNORANCE. Sir John Germain was so igno- rant, that, being told that Sir Mat- thew Decker wrote St. Matthew's Gospel, he firmly believed it. I doubted this tale very much, says Walpole, till I asked a lady of quality, his descendant, about it, who told me it was most true. She added, that Sir John Germain was in consequence so much per- suaded of Sir Matthew's piety, that, by his will, he left two hun- dred pounds to Sir Matthew, to 328 be by him distributed among the Dutch paupers in London. TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. CONVERSATION. sir joiin iiarri'ngton's ex- travagance. Gibbon, one of the most fas- tidious of men, and disposed by neither party nor personal recol- lections to be enamored of Fox, describes his conversation as ad- mirable. They met at Lausanne, spent a day without other compa- ny, " and talked the whole day." The test was sufficiently long un- der any circumstances, but Gibbon declares that Fox never flagged; his animation and variety of topic were inexhaustible. Dr. Bentley was loquacious. Dr. Stillingfleet, Bishop of Wor- cester, to whom this talented man was chaplain, said that if Bentley had been a little more diffident, he would have been the most ex- traordinary man in Europe. Grotius was very talkative, but he was thoughtful, and richly stored with learning. Of Goldsmith, it was said, " He wrote like an angel, and talked like poor Poll." James Smith says, " I don't fancy painters. General Phipps used to have them much at his table. He once asked me if I liked to meet them. I answered, ' No; I know nothing in their way, and they know nothing out of it.'" Sir John Harrington, the cele- brated epigrammatist, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, was a man of great wit, but thoughtless in his conduct, and extremely care- less in the management of his affairs; so that, in consequence of his extravagance, he was ob- liged to part with several of his estates. Among the rest, he sold a very fine one, called Nyland, in Somersetshire, concerning which Dr. Fuller, in his account of Har- rington, relates a whimsical anec- dote. Sir John, while riding over this manor, accompanied by an old and trusty servant, suddenly turned round, and with his usual pleas- antry, said, John, John, this Nyland, Alas ! once was my land. To whom John, as merrily and truly replied, If yon had had more wit, sir. It might have been yours yet, sir. THE BRISTOL MILKWOMAN'S POETRY. The anecdote of Mason is well known, when solicited to subscribe five guineas in support of Ann Yearsley, the Bristol milkwoman and poetess. He observed to his friend, who was rather hyperbol- ical in his praises - "Here are five pounds for her book, and five shillings for her heaven-born ge- nius." Perhaps this was illiberal; but the force of its reasoning may be applied and rendered even po- etically just by analogy. MADAME DE BOURDONNE. Madame de Bourdonne, Can- oness of Remiremont, had been present at a discourse full of fire and eloquence, but deficient in solidity and arrangement. One of her friends, who felt an interest in the preacher, asked her, as she came out of church, how she liked it?" "Is it not full of spirit V' TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 329 said she. " So full," replied Mad- ame de Bourdonne, " that I could not perceive any body." and Podebrasky, and many more skies, sir." LAUDAMY AND CALAMY. The Archbishop of Lyons had his hands completely distorted and disfigured by the gout. He was once engaged in play at cards, and had gained a thousand pistoles. " I should not mind it," said the losing party, " if my money had not got into the ugliest hand in the kingdom." " That is false," said the Archbishop; " I know one that is still uglier." "I'll wager thirty pistoles you don't," said the other. The Archbishop immediately drew off the glove which covered his left hand, and the gamester acknowledged he had lost his wager. THE ARCHBISHOP OF LYONS. The following is related by Mr. Gillies, in his Reminiscences of Sir Walter Scott: " It happened, at a small country town, that Scott suddenly required medical advice for one of his servants, and, on inquiring if there was any doctor at the place, was told that there were two-one long established, and the other a new-comer. The latter gentleman being luckily found at home, soon made his ap- pearance - a grave, sagacious- looking personage, attired in black, with a shovel hat, in whom, to his utter astonishment, Sir Walter recognized a Scotch blacksmith, who had formerly practiced, with tolerable success, as a veterinary operator in the neighborhood of Ashestiel. ' How,in all the world!' exclaimed he, ' can it be possible that this is John Lundie ?' ' In troth is it, your honor--just cC that's for him.' 1 Well, but let us hear: you were a Zmrse-doctor be- fore ; now, it seems you are a man- doctor ; how do you get on ?' ' Ou, just extraordinar weel; for your honor maun ken my practice is vera sure and orthodox. I depend entirely upon twa simples.' ' And what may their names be ? Per- haps it is a secret.' ' I'll tell your honor,' in a low tone; ' my twa simples are just laudamy and cal- amy!' i Simples with a vengeance!' replied Scott. ' But John, do you never happen to kill any of your patients ?' ' Kill ? Ou ay, may be sae ! Whiles they die, and whiles Ambrose Philips, the poet, was very solemn and pompous in con- versation. At a coffee-house, he was discoursing upon pictures, and pitying the painters who in their historical pieces always draw the same sort of sky. " They should travel," said he, " and then they ■would see that there is a different sky in every country, in England, France, Holland, Italy, and so forth." " Your remark is just," said a grave gentleman, who sat just by: "I have been a traveler myself, and can testify that what you observe is true; but the great- est variety of skies that ever I found was in Poland." " In Po- land, sir?" said Philips. "Yes, in Poland ; for there is Sobiesky, and Sarbiensky, and Jablonsky, ART CRITICISM. 330 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. no;-but it's the will o' Provi- dence. Ony how, your honor, it wad be lang be fore it makes up for Flodden!'" berg, in 1838, at which Thiersch was to preside. In 1839, the society met at Manheim. Frederic Jacobs, whose age and partial deafness prevented him from attending the first meeting, where his name had been men- tioned with particular marks of respect, had also decided not to attend the second. But Rost, of Gotha, resorted to a stratagem, which was successful in procuring the attendance of Jacobs. At the age of seventy-five, he undertook his four days' journey, traveling forty miles a day, and calling, as he went, on his literary friends at Frankfort, Darmstadt and Heidel- berg. When this amiable old man and popular writer-the favorite of all parties-arrived, he could not decline addressing the assem- bled classical teachers of his coun- try, mostly of the younger genera- tion. He spoke in an affecting strain of eloquence, which was re- ceived with unusual applause. Aftei' the meeting, the principal members of the society appointed Hermann, of Marburg, to draw up a special communication in Latin, addressed to Jacobs, testifying, in the warmest terms, their respect for him as one of the most accom- plished of classical scholars, and their personal regards for him as a man and as a friend. This cir- cumstance called him out, in an- other public speech, on a subse- quent day, so that the occasion was a kind of jubilee to that noble representative of the past genera- tion. CENTENNIAL CELEBRATION AT GOTTINGEN. The Society of Philologists, formed in Germany a few years ago, originated thus: In 1837, the University of Gottingen held its centennial celebration. The festival of a university, which could look back upon so proud a century as that which marked the history of this celebrated seat of learning, naturally attracted an unusual assemblage of scholars. Distinguished philologists of all parties met together, forgetting their animosities, and embracing each other as fellow-laborers in the same great enterprise, though contemplating it from different points of view. So touching was the scene, and so delightful the magnanimous feelings with which those who participated in it greeted each other, that Thiersch, the pillar of Greek learning in Bavaria-a man of the noblest enthusiasm, as well as of great eloquence- gave utterance to his struggling emotions, and ventured, in his re- marks, to propose the formation of a society which should secure the annual recurrence of such oc- casions. A special meeting was called to consider the subject, at which Humboldt presided. The proposal was received with accla- mation, and the first meeting was appointed to be held in Nurem- TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 331 JAMES HOGG AND SIR WALTER SCOTT. These imitations he transmitted to Scott, who warmly praised the many striking beauties scattered ovex1 their rough surfaces. The next time that Hogg's business carried him to Edinburgh, he waited upon Scott, who invited him to dinner in Castle Street, in company with William Laidlaw, who happened also to be in town, and some other admirers of the rustic genius. When Hogg en- tered the drawing-room, Mrs. Scott, being at the time in a deli- cate state of health, was reclining on a sofa. The Shepherd, aftei' being presented, and making his best bow, forthwith took posses- sion of another sofa placed oppo- site to hers, and stretched himself thereupon at all his length; for, as he said afterward, ' I thought I could never do wrong to copy the lady of the house.' As his dress at this period was precisely that in which any ordinary herdsman attends cattle to the market, and as his hands, moreover, bore most legible marks of a recent sheep- smearing, the lady of the house did not observe with perfect equan- imity the novel usage to which her chintz was exposed. The Shep- herd, however, marked nothing of all this-dined heartily and drank freely, and, by jest, anecdote and song, afforded plentiful merriment to the more civilized part of the company. As the liquor operated, his familiarity increased and strengthened ; from " Mr. Scott," he advanced to " Sherra," and thence to " Scott," " Walter," and " Wattie," until at supper, he fairly convulsed the whole party by ad- dressing Mrs. Scott as " Charlotte." Speaking of Scott's acquaint- ance with the Ettrick Shepherd, Mr. Lockhart relates the follow- ing anecdotes of the latter: Short- ly aftei' their first meeting, Hogg, coming into Edinburgh with a fiock of sheep, was seized with a sudden ambition of seeing himself in type, and he wrote out that same night Willie and Katie, and a few other ballads, already famous in the Forest, which some obscure bookseller gratified him by print- ing accordingly; but they appeared to attract no notice beyond their original sphere. Hogg then made an excursion into the Highlands, in quest of employment as overseer in some extensive sheep-farm; but, though Scott had furnished him with strong recommendations to various friends, he returned without success. He printed an account of his travels, however, in a set of letters in the Scots Mag- azine, which, though exceedingly rugged and uncouth, had abund- ant traces of the native shrewd- ness and genuine poetical feeling of this remarkable man. These also failed to excite attention ; but, undeterred by such disappoint- ments, the Shepherd no sooner read the third volume of the Min- strelsy, than he made up his mind that the Editor's Imitations of the Ancients were by no means what they should have been. " Imme- diately," he says, " in one of his many memoirs of himself, "I chose a number of traditional facts, and set about imitating the manner of the ancients myself." 332 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. Tory mischief, and signed, " Thine; Peveril." PEVERIL OF THE PEAK, AND PE- TER OF THE PAUNCH. One morning (says Mr. Lock- hart, in his Life of Scott) soon after Peveril came out, one of our most famous wags (now famous for better things), namely, Mr. Patrick Robertson, commonly call- ed by the endearing Scottish di- minutive " Peter," observed that tall conical white head advancing above the crowd towards the fire- place, where the usual roar of fun was going on among the briefless, and said, " Hush, boys, here comes old Peveril-I see the Peak." A laugh ensued, and the Great Un- known, as he withdrew from the circle after a few minutes' gossip, insisted that I should tell him what our joke upon his advent had been. When enlightened, being by that time half-way across the "babbling hall," toward his own Division, he looked around with a sly grin, and said, between his teeth, " Ay, ay, my man, as weel Peveril o' the Peak ony day, as Peter o' the Painch" (paunch) •-which, being transmitted to the brethren of the stove school, of course delighted all of them, ex- cept their portly Coryphaeus. But Peter s application stuck ; to his dying day, Scott was in the Outer House Peveril of the Peak, or Old Peveril-and, by and by, like a good cavalier, he took to the designation kindly. He was well aware that his own family and younger friends constantly talked of him under this sobriquet. Many a little note have I had from him (and so probably has Peter also), re- proving, or perhaps encouraging, Wordsworth's farewell visit TO SCOTT. A few days before Scott's de- parture for Italy in search of health, in 1831, Mr. Wordsworth and his daughter arrived from Westmoreland to take farewell of him. This was a very fortunate circumstance; nothing could have gratified Sir Walter more, or sus- tained him better, if he needed any support from without. On the 22d-all his arrangements being completed, and Laidlaw having received a paper of in- structions, the last article of which repeats the caution to be " very careful of the dogs"-these two great poets -• who had through life loved each other well, and, in spite of very different theories as to art, appreciated each other's genius more justly than inferior spirits ever did either of them- spent the morning together in a visit to Newark; hence the last of the three poems by which Wordsworth has connected his name to all time with the most romantic of Scottish streams. But I need not transcribe a piece so well known as the Yarrow Revis- ited. Sitting that evening in the li- brary, Sir Walter said a good deal about the singularity that Field- ing and Smollett had both been driven abroad by declining health, and never returned-which cir- stance, though his language was rather cheerful at this time, he had often before alluded to in a darker fashion ; and Mr. Words- TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 333 worth expressed his regret that neither of those great masters of romance appeared to have been surrounded with any due marks of respect in the close of life. I happened to observe that Cervan- tes, on his last journey to Madrid, met with an incident which seem- ed to have given him no common satisfaction. Sir Walter did not remember the passage, and desir- ed me to find it out in the Life by Pellicer, which was at hand, and translate it. I did so, and he listened with lively though pen- sive interest. Our friend Allan, the historical painter, had also come out that day from Edinburgh, and he lately told me, that he re- members nothing he ever saw with so much sad pleasure as the attitudes and aspect of Scott and Wordsworth as the story went on. Mr. Wordsworth was at the time, I should notice-though indeed his noble stanzas tell it-in but a feeble state of general health. He was, moreover, suffering so much from some malady in his eyes, that he wore a deep green shade over them. Thus he sat between Sir Walter and his daugh- ter: absit omen-but it was no wonder that Allan thought as much of Milton as of Cervantes. The anecdote of the young stu- dent's raptures on discovering that he had been riding all day with the author of Don Quixote, is introduced in the preface to Count Robert, and Castle Danger- ous, which (for I may not return to the subject) came out at the close of November in four vol- umes, as the Fourth Series of Tales of My Landlord.-Lockhart. A ROYAL PROBLEM IN SCIENCE. When King Charles II dined with the members on the occasion of constituting them a Royal So- ciety, toward the close of the evening he expressed his satisfac- tion at being the first English monarch who had laid a founda- tion for a society which proposed that their whole studies should be directed to the investigation of the arcana of nature, and added, with that peculiar gravity of counte- nance he usually wore on such occasions, that among such learn- ed men he now hoped for a solu- tion to a question which had long puzzled him. The case he thus stated : Suppose two pails of wa- ter were fixed in two different scales that were equally poised, and which weighed equally alike, and two live bream, or small fish, were put into either of these pails; he wanted to know the reason why that pail, with such addition, should not weigh more than the other pail which was against it. Every one was ready to set at quiet the royal curiosity; but it appeared that every one was giv- ing a different opinion. One at length offered so ridiculous a so- lution, that another of the mem- bers could not refrain from a loud laugh ; when the king, turning to him, insisted that he should give his sentiments as well as the rest. This he did without hesitation; and told his majesty, in plain terms, that he denied the fact; on which the king, in high mirth, exclaim- ed : " Odds fish, brother, you are in the right!" The jest was not ill designed. The story is often 334 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. useful to cool the enthusiam of the scientific visionary, who is apt to account for what never existed. would say, " The conduct of the prisna' and his general characta' render it propa' that he should no longa' be a memba' of this community." Equally glaring is the taking away of h from places where it is required, and giving it where its absence is de- sirable. The termination of words ending in ing with a k, as sowze- think, is not less incorrect or less disagreeable. It is worth while occasionally to point out these er- rors, as many must be disposed to correct them, on being made aware of their existence. " EDINBURGH REVIEW." Sir Walter Scott ascribes the great success of this periodical to two circumstances: that it was above the influence of the puffing booksellers, and that the recom- pense per sheet was not only lib- eral in itself, but was actually forced on all contributors, howev- er high their rank and fortune, by the editor, whose saying was, that Czar Peter, when working in the trenches, received pay as a com- mon soldier. This general rule removed all scruples of delicacy, and fixed the services of men of talent and enterprise, who were glad of a handsome apology to work for fifteen or twenty guineas, though they would not willingly have been considered as hackney writers. SERVANTS. In France servants always walk before their masters. It is other- wise in Italy. Masters walk be- fore their servants in summer, on account of the dust, and in winter behind them, on account of the badness of the roads. BOOK-STALL READERS. One of the peculiarities of vul- gar English pronunciation is to put the letter r at the end of words ending with a vowel. Some of the inhabitants of London, if they had to speak the following sen- tence, "A fellow broke the win- dow, and hit Isabella on the elbow, as she was playing a sonata on the piano," would give it in the fol- lowing manner: " A fellor broke the winder, and hit Isabellar on the elbor, as she was playing a sonatar on the pianar." Others adopt the contrary plan, and leave out the r as often as they can. There are magistrates of high pretensions to education, who VULGAR PRONUNCIATION. There is a class of street-read- ers whom I can never contemplate without affection-the poor gentry who, not having wherewithal to buy or hire a book, filch a little learning at the open stalls ; the owner, with his hard eye, casting envious looks at them all the while, and thinking when they will have done. Venturing tenderly, page after page,expecting every moment when he shall interpose his inter- dict, and yet unable to deny themselves the gratification, they " snatch a fearful joy." BURKE AND THE RIOT ACT. During one of the debates on the affairs of America, Hartley, 335 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. the member for Hull, after hav- ing driven four-fifths of a very full house from the benches by an unusually dull speech, at length requested that the Riot Act might be read, for the purpose of eluci- dating one of his propositions. Burke, who was impatient to ad- dress the house himself, immedi- ately started up and exclaimed, " The Riot Act, my dearest friend: why, in the name of everything that's sacred, have the Riot Act read? The mob, you see, is al- ready dispersed." Peals of laugh- ter followed the utterance of this comic appeal, which Lord North frequently declared to be one of the happiest instances of wit he ever heard. engine; the former could employ about 120 figures in its calcula- tions, the latter is intended to compute with about 4000. LORD CHATHAM. It is said of the eloquence of the Earl of Chatham, that " his voice, even when it sank to a whisper, was heard to the remotest benches; when he strained it to its full strength, the sound rose like the swell of an organ of a great cathe- dral, shook the house with its peal, and was heard through lobbies and down staircases to the Court of Requests, and the precincts of Westminster Hall." DR. PITCAIRNE AND ACADEMIC DEGREES. Mr. Babbage, the inventor of this machine, has (in his Bridge- water Treatise) referred to its present state. He mentions that, as early as 1821, he undertook to su- perintend for the Government the construction of an engine for cal- culating and printing mathemat- ical and astronomical tables. Early in 1833 a small portion of the machine was put together, and it performed its work with all the precision which had been antici- pated. At that period circum- stances caused a suspension of its progress, and the Government, on whose decision the continuance or discontinuance of the work de- pends, have not yet communicated to Mr. Babbage their wishes on the question. Since the com- mencement of the original ma- chine, Mr. Babbage has projected another and far more powerful THE CALCULATING MACHINE. Dr. Alexander Pitcairne, who died in 1713, and who was long remembered most distinctly in Scotland for his strong Jacobitism, his keen wit, and his eminence as a physician, studied his profession in Holland, where he was for some time the preceptor of Boer- haave. His political principles causing him to be no friend to the republican Dutch, he amused him- self with satirizing them in verse. Dull, however, as the Dutch are generally esteemed, they had once paid him very smartly in his own coin. Pitcairne, it seems, took great offense at the facility with which the University of Leyden, like some of those in this country, at a more recent period, conferred degrees upon those applying for them. To ridicule them, he sent for a diploma for his footman, which -was granted. He next sent for another for his horse. This, 336 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. however, was too gross an affront for even Dutchmep to swallow. In a spirit of resentment an an- swer was returned, to the effect, that " search having been made in the books of the University, they could not find one instance of the degree of doctor having been ever conferred upon a horse, although, in the instance of one Dr. Pitcairne, it appeared that the degree had once been confer- red on an ass." and insignificant. I went to-day to see the house I formerly occu- pied. How small! It is always thus: the words large and small are carried about with us in our minds, and we forget real dimen- sions. The idea, such as it was received, remains during our ab- sence from the object. When I returned to England in 1800, after an absence from the country parts of it for sixteen years, the trees, the hedges, even the parks and woods, seemed so small! It made me laugh to hear little gutters, that I could jump over, called rivers. The Thames was but 1 a creek.' But when, in about a month after my arrival in London, I went to Farnham, the place of my birth, what was my surprise 1 Everything was become so piti- fully small I I had to cross in my post-chaise the long and dreary heath of Bagshot; then, at the end of it, to mount a hill called Hungry Hill; and from that hill I knew that I should look down into the beautiful and fertile vale of Farnham. My heart fluttered with impatience, mixed with a sort of fear, to see all the scenes of my childhood ; for I had learned, be- fore, the death of my father and mother. There is a hill not far from the town, called Crooksbury Hill, which rises up out of a flat in the form of a cone, and is planted with Scotch fir-trees. Here I used to take the eggs and young ones of crows and magpies. This hill was a famous object in the neighborhood. It served as the superlative degree of height. ' As high as Crooksbury Hill,' meant with us the utmost degree DRS. BARTON AND NASH. Dr. Barton was in company with Dr. Nash, just as he was going to publish his work on the antiquities of Worcestershire. "I fear," said Dr. Barton, " there will be a great many inaccuracies in your books when they come out." " How are errors to be avoided?" said Dr. Nash. " Very easily," said Dr. Barton. "Are you not a justice of peace?" "I am," said Dr. Nash. " Why, then," replied the old warden, " you have nothing to do but to send your books to the house of correction." cobbett's early recollec- tions. Perhaps, in Cobbett's volumin- ous writings, there is nothing so fine as the following picture of his boyish scenes and recollections. It has been well compared to the most simple and touching passa- ges in Richardson's Pamela: " After living within a hundred yards of Westminster Hall, and the Abbey Church, and the bridge, and looking from my own window into St. James's Park, all other buildings and spots appeared mean TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 337 of height. Therefore the first object my eyes sought was this hill. I could not believe my eyes! Literally speaking, I for a moment thought the famous hill removed, and a little heap put in its stead; for I had seen in New Brunswick, a single rock, or hill of solid rock, ten times as big, and four or five times as high ! The postboy, going down hill, and not a bad road, whisked me in a few minutes to the Bush Inn, from the garden of which I could see the prodig- ious sand hill where I had begun my gardening works. What a nothing! But now came rushing into my mind, all at once, my pretty little garden, my little blue smock-frock,my little nailed shoes, my pretty pigeons that I used to feed out of my hands, the last kind words and tears of my gentle, and tender-hearted, and affection- ate mother. 1 hastened back in- to the room. If I had looked a moment longer, I should have dropped. When I came to reflect, what a change ! What scenes I had gone through ! How altered my state! I had dined the day before at a secretary of state's, in company with Mr. Pitt, and had been waited upon by men in gaudy liveries. I had had nobody to assist me in the world ; no teach- ers of any sort; nobody to shel- ter me from the consequence of bad, and nobody to counsel me to good, behavior. I felt proud. The distinctions of rank, birth, and wealth, all became nothing in my eyes ; and from that moment (less than a month after my arival in England) I resolved never to bend before them." Cobbett was, for a short time, a laborer in the kitchen-grounds of the Royal Gardens at Kew. King George the Third often visited the gardens to inquire after the fruit and esculents ; and one day he saw Cobbett here, then a lad, who, with a few halfpence in his pocket, and Swift's Tale of a Tub in his hand, had been so captivated by the winders of the Royal Gar- dens, that he applied there for employment. The king, on per- ceiving the clownish boy, with his stockings tied about his legs by scarlet garters,inquired about him, and especially desired that he might be continued in his service. Shelley had a pleasure in mak- ing paper boats, and floating them on the water. The New Monthly has the following curious anecdote on this subject:-So long as his paper lasted he remained riveted to the spot, fascinated by this peculiar amusement; all waste- paper was rapidly consumed, then the covers of letters, next letters of little value; the most precious contributions of the most esteemed correspondents, although eyed wistfully many times, and often returned to the pocket, were sure to be sent at last in pursuit of the former squadrons. Of the por- table volumes which were the companions of his rambles, and he seldom went out without a book, the fly-leaves were common- ly wanting-he had applied them as our ancestor Noah applied gopher-wood; but learning was so sacred in his eyes, that he never trespassed further upon the integ- PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. 338 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. rity of the copy; the work itself was always respected. It has been said that he once found him- self on the north bank of the Ser- pentine river without the mate- rials for indulging those inclina- tions which the sight of water invariably inspired, for he had exhausted his supplies on the round pond in Kensington Gar- dens. Not a single scrap of paper could be found, save only a bank post bill for fifty pounds; he hesitated long, but yielded at last; he twisted it into a boat with the extreme refinement of his skill, and 'committed it with the utmost dexterity to fortune- watching its progress, if possible, with a still more intense anxiety than usual. Fortune often fa- vors those who frankly and fully trust her; the north-east wind gently wafted the costly skiff to the south bank, where during the latter part of the voyage the ven- turous owner had waited its arrival with patient solicitude. might cut and come again with the bolder knife. Often did the clerk's coach - commonly called among themselves the " Lively," which trundled round every morn- ing to pick up the brotherhood, and then deposited them at the proper minute in the Parliament- close-often did this lumbering hackney arrive at his door before he had fully appeased what Ho- mer calls the " sacred rage of hunger," and vociferous was the merriment of the learned scribes when the surprising poet swung forth to join them, with an extem- porized sandwich, that looked like a ploughman's luncheon, in his hand. But this robust supply would have served him, in fact, for the day. He never tasted anything more before dinner, and at dinner he ate almost as spar- ingly as Squire Tovell's niece in Crabbe's tale.-Lockhart. will's coffee-house, tom's, AND BUTTON'S. SIR WALTER SCOTT'S BREAK- FASTS. Three of the most celebrated resorts of the literati of the last century were the following:- Will's Coffee-house, No. 23, on the north side of Great Russell Street, Covent Garden, at the end of Bow Street. This was the favorite resort of Dryden, who had here his own chair, in winter, by the fireside, in summer in the balcony; the company met on the first floor, and there smoked ; and the young beaux and wits were sometimes honored with a pinch out of Dryden's snuff-box. Will's was the resort of men of genius till 1710. It was subsequently occupied by a perfumer. Sir Walter Scott's chief meal was breakfast. No fox-hunter ever prepared himself for the field by more substantial appliances. His table was always provided, in addition to the usually plentiful delicacies of a Scotch breakfast, with some solid article, on which he did most lusty execution ; a round of beef, a pasty such as made Gil Bias's eyes water, or, most welcome of all, a cold sheep's head. A huge brown loaf flanked his elbow, and it was placed upon a broad wooden trencher, that he TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 339 Tom's, No. 17, Great Russell Street, had nearly 700 subscribers, at a guinea a head, from 1764 to 1768, and had its card, conversa- tion, and coffee-rooms, where as- sembled Dr. Johnson, Garrick, Murphy, Goldsmith, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Foote, and other men of talent. The tables and books of the club are preserved in the house, the first floor of which is occupied by Mr. Webster, the medalist. Button's, "over against" Tom's, was the receiving-house for contri- butions to the Guardian, in a lion-head box, the aperture for which remains (1849) in the wall to mark the place. Button had been servant to Lady Warwick, whom Addison married, and the house was frequented by Pope, Steele, Swift, Arbuthnot, and Addison. The lion's head for a letter-box, " the best head in England," was set up in imitation of the celebrated lion at Venice. It was removed from Button's to the Shakspeare's Head, under the arcade in Covent Garden, and in 1751 was placed in the Bedford, next door. This lion's head is now treasured as a relic by the Bedford family. "PAMELA." I recollect an anecdote (said Sir John Herschel, in the open- ing address to the subscribers to the Windsor and Eton public li- brary, when the learned knight was president), told me by a late highly respected inhabitant of Windsor, as a fact which he could personally testify, having occurred in a village where he resided several years, and where he act- ually was at the time it took place. The blacksmith of the village had got hold of Richard- son's novel of Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded, and used to read it aloud in the long summer even- ings, seated on his anvil, and never failed to have a large and attentive audience. It is a pretty long-winded book; but their pa- tience was fully a match for the author's prolixity, and they fairly listened to it all. At length when the happy turn of fortune arrived which brings the hero and hero- ine together, and describes them as living long and happily, accord- ing to the most approved rules, the congregation were so delight- ed as to raise a great shout, and procuring the church keys, act- ually set the parish bells a-ring- ing. LITERATURE AS A PROFESSION. Sir Walter Scott, in conversing with a young man who was about to embark upon the perilous voy- age of letters, in search of for- tune and fame, made to him this pithy remark-it contains a vol- ume : - " Literature, my young friend, is a good staff, but a bad crutch." A WHIMSICAL LORD OF QUEEN anne's time. Lord Wharncliffe, in his new and extended edition of the works of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, gives the following amusing anec- dotes of a noble lord of the early part of the last century:-Mary 340 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. Howe, daughter of Lord Viscount Howe, married to Thomas, eighth Earl of Pembroke, 1725 - the Lord Pembroke, who collected the statues and models at Wilton, and whose knowledge of classical antiquity might therefore make his praise flattering to Lady Mary Wortley, had been a principal member of the Whig administra- tions under King William and Queen Anne, and the last person who held the office of Lord High Admiral; but now being old and a great humorist, distinguished himself by odd whims and peculi- arities ; one of which was a fixed resolution not to believe that any- thing he disliked, ever did or could happen. One must explain this by instances. He chose that his eldest son should always live in the house with him while unmar- ried. The son, who was more than of age, and had a will of his own, often chose to live elsewhere. But let him be ever so distant, or stay away ever so long, his father' still insisted on supposing him present; every day bidding the butler tell Lord Herbert dinner was ready : and the butler every day as gravely bringing word, that " his lordship dined abroad." Marrying for the third time at seventy-five, he maintained strict dominion over a wife whom other people thought safely arrived at years of discretion, and quite fit to take care of herself. She had leave to visit in an evening, but must never on any account stay out a minute later than ten o'clock, his supper-hour. One night, how- ever, she staid till past twelve. He declined supping, telling the servant it could not be ten o'clock, as their lady was not come home; when at last she came, in a terrible fright, and began making a thous- and apologies. "My dear," said he very coolly, " you are under a mistake, it is but just ten; your watch, I see, goes too fast, and so does mine: we must have the man to-morrow to set them to rights; meanwhile let us go to supper." His example on another occasion might be worth follow- ing. Of all the Mede and Persian laws established in his house, the most peremptory was, that any servant who once got drunk should be instantly discharged; no par- don granted, no excuse listened to. Yet an old footman, who had lived with him many years, would sometimes indulge in a pot of ale extraordinary, trusting to the will- ful blindness which he saw as- sumed when convenient. One fatal day, even this could not avail. As my Lord crossed the hall, John appeared in full view; not rather tipsy, or a little dis- guised, but dead drunk, and un- able to stand. Lord Pembroke went up to him. " My poor fellow, what ails you ? you seem dread- fully ill; let me feel your pulse. God bless us, he is in a raging fever; get him to bed directly, and send for the apothecary." The apothecary came, not to be consulted-for his Lordship was physician-general in his own fam- ily-but to obey orders ; to bleed the patient copiously, clap a huge blister on his back, and give him a powerful dose of physic. After a few days of this treatment, when the fellow emerged weak and wan TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 341 as the severest illness could have left him, " Hah, honest John," cried his master, "I am truly glad to see thee alive; you have had a wonderful escape though, and ought to be thankful; very thank- ful, indeed. Why, man, if I had not passed by at the time and spied the condition you were in, you would have been dead before now. But, John, John," lifting up his finger, " no more of •these FEVERS I" emptying every flask and decanter that came to his way. As I knew there was no end to his bacchana- lia when fairly seated with plenty of drink and a listener, I retired, leaving him to finish the remains of some half-dozen of bottles; for it was immaterial to the professor the quality of the stuff, provided he had quantity. " On my descending, the follow- ing morning, to breakfast, I was surprised to find my friend loung- ing on a sofa, and perusing with great attention a curious volume of Italian tales, which I had picked up in my travels. I learned that, having found the liquor so choice, and the Novelle Antiche so inter- esting, he had trimmed his lamp and remained on the premises. ' I think,' said he, 'that with the aid of a razor, and a light-colored neckcloth, and a brush, I shall be smart enough for your fine party.' "A pretty large company as- sembled in the evening, and Per- son treated them with a transla- tion (without book) of the curious tale which had excited his notice. So extraordinary was his memory, that although there were above forty names introduced into the story, he had only forgotten one. This annoyed him so much, that he started from the table, and after pacing about the room for ten min- utes, he stopped short, exclaiming, ' Eureka! The count's name is Don Francesco Averani.' The party sat till three o'clock in the morning, but Person would not stir, and it was with no small dif- ficulty that my brother could pre- vail on him to take his departure at five; having favored me with porson's memory. " I had invited Porson," says an English author, " to meet a par- ty of friends in Sloane Street, where I lived; but the professor had mistaken the day, and made his appearance in full costume the preceding one. We had already dined, and were at our cheese. When he discovered his error, he made his usual exclamation of a wkooe ! as long as my arm, and turning to me, with great gravity, said, 'I advise you in future, sir, when you ask your friends to din- ner, to ask your wife to write your cards. Sir, your penmanship is abominable; it would disgrace a cobbler. I swear that your day is written Thursday, not Friday,' at the same time pulling the invi- tation out of his pocket. A jury was summoned, and it was decid- ed nem. con., 'that for once the professor was in the wrong,' which he instantly admitted. 'Your blun- der,' I replied, 'my friend, will cost me a beef-steak and a bottle of your favorite Trinity ale, so that you will be the gainer.' "He sat on, 'as was his custom in the afternoon,' till past midnight, 342 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. his company exactly thirty-six hours. During this time, I calcu- lated he finished a bottle of alco- hol, two of Trinity ale, six of claret, besides the lighter sort of wines, of which I could take no account; he also emptied a half- pound canister of snuff, and, dur- ing the first night, smoked a bun- dle of cigars. " Professor Porson, most unhap- pily, gave way to his inclination to drinking, and died of apoplexy at the age of forty-nine years. At a post-mortem examination, it was ascertained that his skull was one of the thickest that had ever been observed. And this, too, not- withstanding the fact that he was one of the most remarkable schol- ars of the age in which he lived." pretending to return it, dexterous- ly substituted another in its place, with which Porson proceeded. Being called on by the master, he read and construed Carm. 1, x. very regularly. Observing the class to laugh, the master said, "Porson, you seem to me to be reading on one side of the page, while I am looking at the other; pray whose edition have you ? " Porson hesitated. " Let me see it," rejoined the master; who, to his great surprise, found it to be an English Ovid. Porson was ordered to go on; which he did easily, correctly, and promptly, to the end of the ode. When Lord Timothy Dexter, of Newburyport, wrote his famous book, entitled A Pikel for the Knowing Ones, there happened to be many heresies, schisms, and false doctrines abroad in the land regarding punctuation, and as many diverse systems appeared, for the location of commas, semi- colons, periods, dashes, etc,, as there were works published. To obviate this difficulty and to give every one an opportunity of suit- ing himself, his lordship left out all marks of punctuation from the body of his work, and at the end- ing of the book had printed four oi* five pages of nothing but stops and pauses, with which he said the reader could pepper his dish as he chose. PUNCTUATION. THE SON OF BUFFON. The son of Buffon one day sur- prised his father by the sight of a column, which he had raised to the memory of his father's elo- quent genius. "It will do you honor," observed the Gallic sage. And when that son, in the revolu- tion, was led to the guillotine, he ascended in silence, so impressed with his father's fame, that he only told the people, "I am the son of Buffon." Professor Porson, when a boy at Eton school, discovered the most astonishing powers of memo- ry. In going up to a lesson one day, he was accosted by a boy in the same form-"Porson, what have you got there ? " " Horace" "Let me look at it." Porson handed the book to the boy, who, PORSON AT SCHOOL. PASCAL. It is reported of that prodigy of parts, Monsieur Pascal, that, till the decay of his health had TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 343 impaired his memory, he forgot nothing of what he had done, read, or thought during any part of his rational age. much more suited to conversation than her eloquence and genius." HUMANITY OF MR DAY. SYDNEY SMITH. While Mr. Day, the eccentric author of Sandford and Merton, was visiting his friend, Sir Wil- liam Jones, at his chambers, the latter, in removing some books, perceived a spider fall from them ; on which he cried hastily-Kill that spider, Day; kill that spider!" " No," said Mr. Day, with that coolness for which he was conspic- uous, "I for one will not kill that spider, Jones ; I do not know that I have a right to kill that spider'! Suppose when you are going in the coach to Westminister Hall, a su- perior being who, perhaps, may have as much power over you as you have over this insect, should say to his companion, 'Kill that lawyer! kill that lawyer!' how should you like that, Jones?-and I am sure, to most people, a law- yer is a more noxious animal than a spider." Sydney Smith had an extraor- dinary memory, always ready. He could repeat pages of poetry, English, Latin and French; when, where, or how he learned them no one of his family pretended to know; but they were always ready and appropriate in company, when conversation turned that way. He was equally ready in enliven- ing a party of young ladies, by every variety of charades and con- undrums, generally made on the spur of the moment, by cutting paper into curious figures, and by a display of clever tricks, for all which his demand in payment was a kiss from each. His company was much sought after. He was always lively and agreeable, and his conversation full of variety and interesting anecdotes. SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH AND MADAME DE STAEL. Many of our most popular vul- garisms have their origin in some whimsical perversion of language or of fact. St. Martin is one of the worthies of the Romish calen- dar, and a form of prayer com- mences with the words, " O, mihi, beate Martine" which was cor- rupted to "My eye and Betty Mar- tin.'' " The Goat and Compasses," with appropriate emblazonment, was a favorite name for the old English hostelries. The name is a corruption of the ancient legend, " God encompasseth us." CORRUPTIONS OF WORDS. Sir J. Mackintosh, who spoke of Madame de Stael as the most celebrated woman of this, or, per- haps, any age, said : " She treats me as the person whom she most delights to honor. I am generally ordered with her to dinner as one orders beans and bacon. She is one of the few persons who sur- pass expectation; she has every sort of talent, and would be uni- versally popular, if, in society, she were to confine herself to her in- ferior talents-pleasantry, anec- dote, and literature-which are so 344 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. dr. Johnson's style. quently occupied twenty days on a single letter. He recommenced some above seven or eight times, and by this means obtained that perfection which has made his work, as Voltaire says, one of the best books ever published in F rance. Macaulay, in his Review of Bos- well's Johnson, says he wrote in a style in which no one ever made love, quarreled, drove bargains, or even thinks. When he wrote for publication, "he did his sentences into Johnsonese." Goldsmith remarked to him, "If you were to write a fable about little fishes, doctor,you would make the little fishes to talk like whales." ORIGIN OF THE WORD "TEETO- TAL." The word teetotal originated with a Lancashire working-man, who, being unused to public speak- ing, and wishing to pronounce the ■word "total" in connection with " abstinence from intoxicating liq- uors," hesitated, and pronounced the first letter by itself, and the word after it, making altogether t-total. This fact it is well to be acquainted with, because it suffi- ciently refutes the vulgar notion that tee has reference to tea. LITERARY ACQUIREMENTS IN THE ARMY. Lieut.-Gen. Sir George Murray served in the expedition to Egypt, and when before Alexandria, the troops having suffered severely from want of water, his literary acquirements were of the greatest service, instructing him that Cae- sar's army had suffered from the same cause, and in very nearly the same place. Referring to his Ccesar, which he always carried in his traveling portable library, he found his recollection right, and that water had been obtained by the Romans from digging wells to a certain depth in the sands. The trial was immediately made, and the result was a most copious sup- ply of that necessary article, which enabled the British troops to hold their ground, and ultimately to triumph. Lavater, in his Physiognomy, says that Lord Anson, from his countenance, must have been a very wise man. He was one of the most stupid men I ever knew. - Walpole. PHYSIOGNOMY. Lord William Poulet, though often chairman of committees of the House of Commons, was a great dunce, and could scarce read. Having to read a bill for natural- izing Jemima, Duchess of Kent, he called her Jeremiah, Duchess of Kent. Having heard south walls com- mended for ripening fruit, he showed all the four sides of his garden for south walls. LORD WILLIAM POULET. pascal's " LETTERS." When Pascal became warm in his celebrated controversy, he ap- plied himself with incredible la- bor to the composition of his Provincial Letters. He was fre- TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 345 A gentleman writing to desire a fine horse he had, offered him any equivalent. Lord William replied, that the horse was at his service, but he did not know what to do with an elephant. A pamphlet, called The Snake in the Grass, being reported (prob- ably in joke) to be written by this Lord William Poulet, a gentle- man, abused in it, sent him a chal- lenge. Lord William professed his innocence, and that he was not the author; but the gentleman would not be satisfied without a denial under his hand. Lord William took a pen, and began, " This is to scratify, that the buk called the Snak-" " 0, my Lord," said the person, " I am satisfied ; your Lordship has already con- vinced me you did not write the book." STUPID STORIES. A stupid story, or idea, will sometimes make one laugh more than -wit. I was once removing from Berkeley Square to Straw- berry-hill, and had sentoff all my books, when a message unexpect- edly arrived, which fixed me in town for that afternoon. What to do ? I desired my man to rum- mage for a book, and he brought me an old Grub Street thing from the garret. The author, in sheer ignorance, not humor, discoursing of the difficulty of some pursuit, said, that even if a man had as many lives as a cat, nay, as many lives as one Plutarch is said to have had, he could not accomplish it. This odd quid pro quo sur- prised me into vehement laughter. - Wilpole. EXCUSE FOR A LONG LETTER. SYMPTOMS OF INSANITY. In a postscript to one of the Provincial Letters, Pascal excuses himself for the letter being so long, on the plea that he had not had time to make it shorter. My poor nephew, Lord , was deranged. The first symp- tom that appeared was, his send- ing a chaldron of coals as a pres- ent to the Prince of Wales, on learning that he was loaded with debts. He delighted in what he called book-hunting. This notable diversion consisted in taking a vol- ume of a book, and hiding it in some secret part of the library, among volumes of similar binding and size. When he had forgot where the game lay, he hunted till he found it.- Walpole. WIT AND WISDOM. Philip, King of Macedon, hav- ing invited Dionysius the younger to dine with him at Corinth, at- tempted to deride the father of his royal guest, because he had blended the characters of prince and poet, and had employed his leisure in writing odes and trage- dies. " How could the king find leisure," said Philip, " to write such trifles ?" " In those hours," answered Dionysius, " which you and I spend in drunkenness and debauchery." pennant's TOUR IN CHESTER. Mr. Pennant is a most ingen- ious and pleasing writer. His Tours display a great variety of knowledge, expressed in an en- 346 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. gaging way. In private life, I am told, he has some peculiarities, and even eccentricities. Among the latter may be classed his sin- gular antipathy to a wig-which, however, he can suppress, till rea- son yields a little to wine. But when this is the case, off goes the wig next to him, and into the fire. Dining once at Chester with an officer who wore a wig, Mr. Pen- nant became half-seas over; and another friend that was in com- pany carefully placed himself be- tween Pennant and wig, to pre- vent mischief. After much pa- tience, and many a wistful look, Pennant started up, seized the wig, and threw it into the fire. It was in flames in a moment, and so was the officer, who ran to his sword. Down stairs runs Pen- nant, and the officer after him, through all the streets of Chester. But Pennant escaped, from su- perior local knowledge. A wag called this " Pennant's Tour in Chester."- Walpole. Teutonic, ----- 15 Arabic, ----- 13 Irish, ----- 6 Runic, . . . - - 4 Flemish, ----- 4 Erse, ----- 4 Syriac, ----- 3 Scottish, ----- 3 Irish and Erse, - - - - 2 Turkish, ----- 2 Irish and Scottish, - - - 1 Portuguese, - - - - 1 Persian, ----- 1 Frisi, ----- 1 Persic, ----- 1 Uncertain, - - - - 1 Total, .... 15,784 TWO MINISTERS. Mr. Pitt's plan, when he had the gout, was to have no fire in his room, but to load himself with bed-clothes. At his house at Hayes he slept in a long room, at one end of which was his bed, and his lady's at the other. His way was, when he thought the Duke of Newcastle had fallen into any mistake, to send for him, and read him a lecture. The Duke was sent for once, and came, when Mr. Pitt was confined to bed by the gout. There was, as usual, no fire in the room ; the day was very chilly, and the Duke, as usual, afraid of catching cold. The Duke first sat down on Mrs. Pitt's bed, as the warmest place; then drew up his legs into it, as he got colder. The lecture unluckily continuing a considerable time, the Duke at length fairly lodged himself under Mrs. Pitt's bed- clothes. A person from whom I had the story, suddenly going in, saw the two ministers in bed, at the two ends of the room ; while Pitt's long nose, and black beard unshaved for some days, added to the grotesque of the scene.- Wal- pole. ENGLISH LANGUAGE. Some years ago a gentleman, after carefully examining the folio edition of Johnson's Dictionary, formed the following table of Eng- lish words derived from other lan- guages : Latin, ----- 6732 French, ----- 4812 Saxon, ----- 1665 Greek, ----- 1148 Dutch, ----- 691 Italian, ----- 211 German, ----- 106 Welsh, ----- 95 Danish, ----- 75 Spanish, ----- 56 Icelandic, ----- 50 Swedish, ----- 34 Gothic, ----- 31 Hebrew, ----- 16 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. 347 BOOKSELLERS. any one paper in the Rambler. He must have had a bad heart-• his story of the sacrilege in his Voyage to the Western Islands of Scotland is a lamentable instance. - Walpole. The manoeuvres of bookselling are now equal in number to the stratagems of war. Publishers open and shut the sluices of rep- utation as their various interests lead them; and it is become more and more difficult to judge of the merit or fame of recent publica- tions.- Walpole. FRENCH NATIONALITY. The Abbe Raynal came, with some Frenchmen of rank, to see me at Strawberry-hill. They were standing at a window, look- ing at the prospect to the Thames, which they found Hat, and one of them said, in French, not thinking that I and Mr. Churchill overheard them, " Everything in England only serves to recommend France to us the more." Mr. Churchill instantly stepped up and said, " Gentlemen, when the Cherokees were in this country they could eat nothing but train-oil."-Wal- pole. WORTHLESS WRITING. Gilbert Wakefield tells us that he wrote his own memoirs (a large octavo) in six or eight days. It cost him nothing, and, what is very natural, is worth nothing. One might yawn scores of such books into existence ; but who could be ths wiser or the better? DR. JOHNSON. I cannot imagine that Dr. John- son's reputation will be very last- ing. His Dictionary is a surpris- ing work for one man ; but suffi- cient examples in foreign coun- tries show that the task is too much for one man, and that a so- ciety should alone pretend to pub- lish a standard dictionary. In Johnson's Dictionary, I can hard- ly find anything I look for. It is full of words nowhere else to be found, and wants numerous words occurring in good authors. In writing it is useful; as, if one be doubtful in the choice of a word, it displays the authorities for its usage. His essays I detest. They are full of what I call triptology, or repeating the same thing thrice over, so that three papers to the same effect might be made out of THE VICTORIA REGIA AND THE CRYSTAL PALACE. On new-year's day, 1837, a traveler, proceeding in a native boat up the river Berbice, in Demerara, discovered on the mar- gin of a lake into which the river expanded, a Titanic water-plant, unlike any other he had before seen, though an accomplished bot- anist, and familiar with the flora of South America. " I felt as a botanist," said Sir Richard Schom- burg, " and felt myself rewarded. All calamities were forgotten. A gigantic leaf, from five to six feet in diameter, salver-shaped, with a broad rim of a light green above, and a vivid crimson below, rested on the water. Quite in character with the wonderful leaf was the 348 TABLE-TALK AND VARIETIES. luxuriant flower, consisting of an immense number of petals, passing in alternate tints from pure white to rose and pink," (and in some instances fifteen inches across.) " The smooth water was covered with blossoms; and, as I rowed from one to the other, I always observed something new to ad- mire." Sir Robert dug up whole plants, and sent first them, and afterward seeds, to England, where the magnificent lily was named Vic- toria Regia. After some unsuc- cessful attempts, the task of forc- ing it to blossom in an artificial climate was confided to Mr. (now Sir Joseph) Paxton, the celebra- ted horticulturist of the Duke of Devonshire's celebrated Chats- worth. When the Victoria Regia was to be flowered, Mr. Paxton deter- mined to imitate nature so closely as to make the innocent offspring of the great mother lily fancy