Chapter II: Part 2

Daily observation demonstrates that the human structure, even in its most perfect formation is liable to lesions of organization and derangment of function, producing that state of the system in which its usual actions or perceptions are either interrupted or attended with pain--this state is called disease. Every animal carries within itself the germ of its own destruction, or, in other words, it is formed for a limited existence. Many diseases, therefore arise spontaneously, or without any assignable external cause; but many more are produced by causes, over which we have some control, and perhaps the chief source of the physical ills to which we are liable, is the deviation we make from the simplicity of nature. The injurious influence that domestication has upon the health of the lower animals is very strikingly apparent; and in proportion as their subjugation is more complete, and their manner of life differs more widely from that which is natural to them, so are their diseases more numerous and severe. The diseases of our more valuable domestic animals are sufficiently numerous and important to employ a particular class of men; and the horse alone has professional assistance appropriated to him. Men of education and talent have devoted themselves to the investigation of the diseases of this noble and useful creature. The poor little canary birds confined in their prisons, are very liable to disease, more especially inflammation of the bowels, asthma, epilepsy, and soreness of the bill. No animal deviates so far from the simplicity of nature in its habits, as man; none is placed under the influence of so many circumstances, calculated to act unfavourably upon the frame. His morbid affections are hence abundant and diversified, as may be seen by referring to the different nosological arrangements; these long catalogues of diseases affording strong evidence that man has not carefully followed that way of life which has been marked out for him by nature. The crowded state of the inhabitants of large cities; the injurious effects of an atmosphere loaded with impurities; sedentary occupations; various unwholesome avocations; intemperance in food; stimulating drinks; high-seasoned and indigestible viands (and these taken hastily in the short intervals allowed by the hurry and turmoil of business); the constant inordinate activity of the great central circulation, kept up by the double impulse of luxurious habits and high mental exertions; the violent passions by which we are agitated and enervated; the various disappointments and vexations to which all are liable, reacting upon and disturbing the whole frame; the delicacy and sensibility to external influences, caused by heated rooms, too warm clothing, and other indulgencies; are all contrary to the voice of nature, and they produce those morbid conditions of the system which a more simple and uniform mode of living would prevent. Our associates of the animal kingdom do not escape the influence of such causes: the mountain shepherd and his dog are equally hardy, and form an instructive contrast between a delicate lady and her lap-dog; the extreme point of degeneracy and imbecility of which each race is susceptible. In the early ages of society man enjoyed long life, his manner of living was simple, his food, habitation, and pursuits, were all calculated to fortify the body, and no anxious cares disturbed his mind.

_Curtis's Essay on the Deaf and Dumb._

* * * * *

REFORM OF CRIMINAL LAW.

How noble and pure was the ambition of Sir Samuel Romilly we may learn from the following beautiful passages, where he has explained the motives by which he was actuated in his proposed reforms of the criminal law. "It was not," said he, "from light motives---it was from no fanciful notions of benevolence, that I have ventured to suggest any alteration in the criminal law of England. It has originated in many years' reflection, and in the long-established belief that a mitigation of the severe penalties of our law will be one of the most effectual modes to preserve and advance the humanity and justice for which this country is so eminently distinguished. Since the last session of parliament, I have repeatedly reconsidered the subject: I am more and more firmly convinced of the strength of the foundation upon which I stand; and even if I had doubted my own conclusions, I cannot forget the ability with which I was supported within these walls; nor can be insensible to the humane and enlightened philosophy by which, in contemplative life, this advancement of kindness has been recommended. I cannot, therefore, hastily abandon a duty which, from my success in life, I owe to my profession--which, as a member of this house, I owe to you and to my country--and which, as a man blessed with more than common prosperity, I owe to the misguided and unfortunate."

_Roscoe's Lives of Eminent Lawyers._

* * * * *

AN UPRIGHT JUDGE.

The character of Sir Matthew Hale as a judge was splendidly pre-eminent. His learning was profound; his patience unconquerable; his integrity stainless. In the words of one who wrote with no friendly feeling towards him, "his voice was oracular, and his person little less than adored." The temper of mind with which he entered upon the duties of the bench is best exemplified in the following resolutions, which appear to be composed on his being raised to the dignity of chief baron at the restoration.

"Things necessary to be continually had in remembrance:--

"1. That in the administration of justice I am intrusted for God, the king, and country; and therefore,

"2. That it be done--1. uprightly; 2. deliberately; 3. resolutely.

"3. That I rest not upon my own understanding or strength, but implore and rest upon the direction and strength of God.

"4. That in the exertion of justice I carefully lay aside my own passions, and not give way to them, however provoked.

"5. That I be wholly intent upon the business I am about, remitting all other cares and thoughts as unseasonable and interruptions.

"6. That I suffer not myself to be pre-possessed with any judgment at all, till the whole business and both parties be heard.

"7. That I never engage myself in the beginning of any cause, but reserve myself unprejudiced till the whole be heard.

"8. That in business capital, though my nature prompt me to pity, yet to consider there is a pity also due to the country.

"9. That I be not too rigid in matters purely conscientious, where all the harm is diversity of judgment.

"10. That I be not biassed with compassion to the poor, or favour to the rich, in point of justice.

"11. That popular or court applause or distaste have no influence in anything I do, in point of distribution of justice.

"12. Not to be solicitous what men will say or think, so long as I keep myself exactly according to the rule of justice.

"13. If in criminals it be a measuring cast, to incline to mercy and acquittal.

"14. In criminals that consist merely in words, where no more harm ensues, moderation is no injustice.

"15. In criminals of blood, if the fact be evident, severity is justice.

"16. To abhor all private solicitations, of what kind soever, and by whomsoever, in matters depending.

"17. To charge my servants--1. Not to interpose in any matter whatsoever; 2. Not to take more than their known fees; 3. Not to give any undue precedence to causes; 4. Not to recommend counsel.

"18. To be short and sparing at meals, that I may be the fitter for business."

Under the influence of resolutions like these, the conduct of Hale on the bench appears to have been almost irreproachable.

_Ibidem._

* * * * *

THE PUBLIC JOURNALS.

* * * * *

DRYBURGH ABBEY.

'Twas morn--but not the ray which falls the summer boughs among,
When beauty walks in gladness forth, with all her light and song;
'Twas morn--but mist and cloud hung deep upon the lonely vale,
And shadows, like the wings of death, were out upon the gale.

For He whose spirit woke the dust of nations into life--
That o'er the waste and barren earth spread flowers and fruitage rife--
Whose genius, like the sun, illumed the mighty realms of mind--
Had fled for ever from the fame, love, friendship of mankind!

To wear a wreath in glory wrought his spirit swept afar,
Beyond the soaring wing of thought, the light of moon or star;
To drink immortal waters, free from every taint of earth--
To breathe before the shrine of life, the source whence worlds had birth!

There was wailing on the early breeze, and darkness in the sky,
When, with sable plume, and cloak, and pall, a funeral train swept by;
Methought--St. Mary, shield us well!--that other forms moved there,
Than those of mortal brotherhood, the noble, young, and fair!

Was it a dream?--how oft, in sleep, we ask, "Can this be true?"
Whilst warm imagination paints her marvels to our view;--
Earth's glory seems a tarnish'd crown to that which we behold,
When dreams enchant our sight with things whose meanest garb is gold!

Was it a dream?--methought the "dauntless Harold" passed me by--
The proud "Fitz-James," with martial step, and dark, intrepid eye;
That "Marmion's" haughty crest was there, a mourner for his sake;
And she, the bold, the beautiful, sweet "Lady of the Lake."

The "Minstrel," whose _last lay_ was o'er, whose broken harp lay low,
And with him glorious "Waverley," with glance and step of wo;
And "Stuart's" voice rose there, as when, 'midst fate's disastrous war,
He led the wild, ambitious, proud, and brave "Ich Ian Vohr."

Next, marvelling at his sable suit, the "Dominie" stalk'd past,
With "Bertram," "Julia" by his side, whose tears were flowing fast;
"Guy Mannering," too, moved there, o'erpowered by that afflicting sight;
And "Merrilies," as when she wept on Ellangowan's height.

Solemn and grave, "Monkbarns" approached, amidst that burial line;
And "Ochiltree" leant o'er his staff, and mourn'd for "Auld lang syne!"
Slow march'd the gallant "McIntyre," whilst "Lovel" mused alone;
For _once_, "Miss Wardour's" image left that bosom's faithful throne!

With coronach, and arms reversed, forth came "MacGregor's" clan--
Red "Dougal's" cry peal'd shrill and wild--"Rob Roy's" bold brow
look'd wan;
The fair "Diana" kissed her cross, and bless'd its sainted ray;
And "Wae is me!" the "Bailie" sighed, "that I should see this day!"

Next rode in melancholy guise, with sombre vest and scarf,
Sir Edward, Laird of Ellieslaw, the far-renowned "Black Dwarf;"
Upon his left, in bonnet blue, and white locks flowing free--
The pious sculptor of the grave--stood "Old Mortality!"

"Balfour of Burley," of "Claverhouse," the "Lord of Evandale,"
And stately "Lady Margaret," whose woe might naught avail!
Fierce "Bothwell" on his charger black, as from the conflict won;
And pale "Habakuk Mucklewrath," who cried, "God's will be done!"

And like a rose, a young white rose, that blooms mid wildest scenes,
Passed she,--the modest, eloquent, and virtuous "Jeanie Deans;"
And "Dumbedikes," that silent laird, with love too _deep_ to _smile_,
And "Effie," with her noble friend, the good "Duke of Argyle."

With lofty brow, and bearing high, dark "Ravenswood" advanced,
Who on the false "Lord Keeper's" mien with eye indignant glanced;
Whilst graceful as a lonely fawn, 'neath covert close and sure,
Approached the beauty of all hearts--the "Bride of Lammermoor!"

Then "Annot Lyle," the fairy queen of light and song, stepped near,
The "Knight of Ardenvohr," and _he_, the gifted Hieland Seer:
"Dalgetty," "Duncan," "Lord Monteith," and "Ranald," met my view--
The hapless "Children of the Mist," and bold "Mhich-Connel-Dhu!"

On swept "Bois Guilbert"--"Front de Boeuf"--"De Bracy's" plume of woe;
And "Coeur de Lion's" crest shone near the valiant "Ivanhoe;"
While soft as glides a summer cloud "Rowena" closer drew,
With beautiful "Rebecca"--peerless daughter of the Jew!

Still onward like the gathering night advanced that funeral train--
Like billows when the tempest sweeps across the shadowy main;
Where'er the eager gaze might reach, in noble ranks were seen,
Dark plume, and glittering mail and crest, and woman's beauteous mien!

A sound thrilled through that lengthening host! methought the vault
was closed,
Where in his glory and renown fair Scotia's bard reposed!--
A sound thrilled through that length'ning host! and forth my vision fled!
But, ah! that mournful dream proved true,--the immortal Scott was dead!

_Literary Gazette._

* * * * *

LORD BYRON'S "LOVE."

_From Lady Blessington's Conversations._

Of love he had strange notions: he said that most people had _le besoin d'aimer_, and that with this _besoin_ the first person who fell in one's way contented one. He maintained that those who possessed the most imagination, poets for example, were most likely to be constant in their attachments, as with the _beau ideal_ in their heads, with which they identified the object of their attachment, they had nothing to desire, and viewed their mistresses through the brilliant medium of fancy, instead of the common one of the eyes. "A poet, therefore (said Byron), endows the person he loves with all the charms with which his mind is stored, and has no need of actual beauty to fill up the picture. Hence he should select a woman, who is rather good-looking than beautiful, leaving the latter for those who, having no imagination, require actual beauty to satisfy their tastes. And after all (said he), where is the actual beauty that can come up to the bright 'imaginings' of the poet? where can one see women that equal the visions, half mortal, half angelic, that people his fancy? Love, who is painted blind (an allegory that proves the uselessness of beauty), can supply all deficiencies with his aid; we can invest her whom we admire with all the attributes of loveliness, and though time may steal the roses from her cheek, and the lustre from her eye, still the original _beau ideal_ remains, filling the mind and intoxicating the soul with the overpowering presence of loveliness. I flatter myself that my Leila, Zuleika, Gulnare, Medora, and Haidee will always vouch for my taste in beauty: these are the bright creations of my fancy, with rounded forms, and delicacy of limbs, nearly so incompatible as to be rarely if ever united; for where, with some rare exceptions, do we see roundness of contour accompanied by lightness, and those fairy hands and feet that are at once the type of beauty and refinement. I like to shut myself up, close my eyes, and fancy one of the creatures of my imagination, with taper and rose-tipped fingers, playing with my hair, touching my cheek, or resting its little snowy-dimpled hand on mine. I like to fancy the fairy foot, round and pulpy, but small to diminutiveness, peeping from beneath the drapery that half conceals it, or moving in the mazes of the dance. I detest thin women; and unfortunately all, or nearly all plump women, have clumsy hands and feet, so that I am obliged to have recourse to imagination for my beauties, and there I always find them. I can so well understand the lover leaving his mistress that he might write to her, I should leave mine, not to write to, but to think of her, to dress her up in the habiliments of my ideal beauty, investing her with all the charms of the latter, and then adoring the idol I had formed. You must have observed that I give my heroines extreme refinement, joined to great simplicity and want of education. Now, refinement and want of education are incompatible, at least I have ever found them so: so here again, you see, I am forced to have recourse to imagination, and certainly it furnishes me with creatures as unlike the sophisticated beings of civilized existence, as they are to the still less tempting, coarse realities of vulgar life. In short, I am of opinion that poets do not require great beauty in the objects of their affection; all that is necessary for them is a strong and devoted attachment from the object, and where this exists, joined to health and good temper, little more is required, at least in early youth, though with advancing years, men become more _exigeants_." Talking of the difference between love in early youth and in maturity, Byron said, "that, like the measles, love was most dangerous when it came late in life."

_New Monthly Magazine._

* * * * *

UMBRELLAS.

_By one of the year 1750._

Umbrellas, in my youth, were not ordinary things; few but the macaronis of the day, as the dandies were then called, would venture to display them. For a long while it was not usual for men to carry them without incurring the brand of effeminacy, and they were vulgarly considered as the characteristics of a person whom the mob hugely disliked, namely, a mincing Frenchman! At first, a single umbrella seems to have been kept at a coffee-house for some extraordinary occasion--lent as a coach or chair in a heavy shower--but not commonly carried by the walkers. The Female Tatler advertises, "the young gentleman belonging to the custom-house who, in fear of rain, borrowed _the umbrella from Wilks' Coffee-House_, shall the next time be welcome to the maid's _pattens_." An umbrella carried by a man was obviously then considered as extreme effeminacy. As late as in 1778, one John Macdonald, a footman, who has written his own life, informs us that when he used "a fine silk umbrella, which he had brought from Spain, he could not with any comfort to himself use it; the people calling out 'Frenchman! why don't you get a coach?'" The fact was that the hackney-coachmen and the chairmen, joining with the true _esprit de corps_, were clamorous against this portentous rival. This footman, in 1778, gives us further information. "At this time there were no umbrellas wore in London, except in noblemen's and gentlemen's houses, where there was a large one hung in the hall to hold over a lady or a gentleman, if it rained between the door and their carriage." His sister was compelled to quit his arm one day from the abuse he drew down on himself and his umbrella. But he adds, that "he persisted for three months till they took no further notice of this novelty. Foreigners began to use theirs, and then the English. Now it is become a great trade in London." This footman, if he does not arrogate too much to his own confidence, was the first man distinguished by carrying and using a silken umbrella. He is the founder of a most populous school. The state of our population might now in some degree be ascertained by the number of umbrellas.

_New Monthly Magazine._

* * * * *

GIPSIES.

Gipsies in times of yore were the scape-goats of the peasantry: if "cock" were "purloined" or any other rural mischief done by night, it was immediately fathered upon a neighbouring tent of "the dark race." No further evidence was required than the pot boiling on stick transverse: no one hesitated to conclude that the said pot contained the _corpus delicti_: that the individual missing cock was there parboiling, and that the swarthy race lolling around the fire, or peeping from beneath the canvass roof, were resting from the unholy labours of the night. Crime, however, has made such rapid marches that it has long been seen that the gipsies could not perpetrate the whole of it: and now it is pretty clear they are, and probably have always been, innocent of the whole of it. It is an event of extreme rarity to see a gipsy in a court of justice, and we have reason to believe that it has come to pass that farmers entertain a belief that the tent of the wanderer, with its nightly blaze and its dark shadows flitting about it, is a protection to their property. There is every probability in favour of the justice of this character. The life of the gipsy is not unlucrative: his wants are few and coarse, and the calls upon him are scarcely any. He pays no rent: he is exempt from taxes: he spends nothing in the luxury of attire: no man can bring him in a bill. Being himself a mender and universal repairer, he is under the necessity of demanding no man's aid. His horse or his ass feeds on Nature's common, the hedge-side, the waste corner, the forest thicket, well known and long haunted by him and his tribe. Gipsies are subject to few diseases: they seldom ask the doctor's assistance but for one friendly office, and that serves a man his lifetime. The open air, the inconstancy of their labour, the sufficiency of their food, and the quantity of healthy exercise, necessarily render these Arabs of civilization the healthiest part of the people. As the monks of old always managed to select a happy site for their establishments, so does the gipsy always contrive to fix upon a pleasant and healthy spot for the pitching of his tent. It is sure to be near a brook for the supply of fresh water for the pot, and a washing-place for the family rags: it generally lies under the shelter of some umbrageous tree, it will always be found to have a view of the road, and invariably placed on the edge of some nice short and sweet morsel of grass for the recreation of the quadrupeds of the party.

The character of the gipsy has not been well understood. It is altogether oriental: he is quiet, patient, sober, long suffering, pleasant in speech, indolent but handy, far from speculative, and yet good at succedaneum: when his anger is kindled, it descends like lightning: unlike his dog, his wrath gives no notice by grumbling: he blazes up like one of his own fires of dried fern. Quarrels do not often take place among them, but when they do, they are dreadful. The laws of the country in which they sojourn have so far banished the use of knives from among them that they only grind them, otherwise these conflicts would always be fatal. They fight like tigers with tooth and nail, and knee and toe, and seem animated only with the spirit of daemonism. Luckily the worst weapon they use is a stick, and, if the devil tempts, a hedge-stake.

We have been put in mind to say something of the gipsies by having witnessed the consequences of one of these affrays, which has brought us still better acquainted with these singular people. A quarrel originating in jealousy had produced results of the most serious nature. A blow on the head with a tent-pole had evidently produced concussion of the brain if not fracture, and the victim was lying on his straw bed in a state of profound coma. The tent was tripartite, being formed of three main tops meeting in a centre: one was sacred to the women--the gynekeion of the Greeks, the anderoon of the Persians: in the others were collected the whole faction of the dying man. Nine or ten swarthy but handsome countenances were anxiously watching the struggling breath of their unhappy comrade--some sobbing, some grief-stricken, some sombre, none savage. An old crone was administering ineffectual milk, perhaps the very woman who had found the same fluid so nutritious some thirty years ago. Before, or rather, under her lay as noble a form as nature ever moulded, with a fine dark, but thoroughly Indian face, covered with the clammy sweat of apoplectic death. There was no want of light, the fire at the mouth every now and then sent in a volume of illumination, and when the medical men arrived there was scarcely a hand that did not contain a candle in the hope of aiding their investigation. The man died on the fourth day: the surgeons were compelled to mangle him in their search for a fracture; after his death justice demanded a still further investigation of the corpse: and yet during all these trying circumstances an important witness can declare that the behaviour of the supposed lawless people was not merely decent--it was more than exemplary--it was delicate, tender, nay, refined; it was moreover exempt from prejudice, at the same time that it was full of feeling. Were the details in place here, it would perhaps be allowed that few brighter examples of friendship and right feeling were to be found than in this instance occurred among the "dark race," as they call themselves.

_New Monthly Magazine._

* * * * *

THE GATHERER.

* * * * *

ARROGANCE.

Owen Feltham says: "I never yet found pride in a noble nature, nor humility in an unworthy mind. It may seem strange to an inconsiderate eye, that such a poor violet virtue should ever dwell with honour; and that such an aspiring fume as pride is, should ever sojourn with a constant baseness. It is sure, we seldom find it, but in such as being conscious of their own deficiency, think there is no way to get honour but by a bold assuming it. If you search for high and strained carriages, you shall for the most part meet with them in low men. Arrogance is a weed that ever grows in a dunghill. It is from the rankness of that soil that she hath her height and spreadings. Witness clowns, fools, and fellows that from nothing are lifted some few steps upon fortune's ladder; where, seeing the glorious representment of honour above, they are so greedy of embracing, that they strive to leap thither at once: so by overreaching themselves in the way, they fail of the end, and fall. And all this happiness, either for want of education, which should season their minds with the generous precepts of morality; or, which is more powerful, example; or else for lack of a discerning judgment, which will tell them that the best way thither, is to go about by humility and desert. Otherwise the river of contempt runs betwixt them and it: and if they go not by these passages, they must of necessity either turn back with shame, or suffer in the desperate venture. Of trees, I observe, God hath chosen the vine, a low plant that creeps upon the helpful wall. Of all beasts, the soft and patient lamb. Of all fowls, the mild and gall-less dove. Christ is the rose of the field, and the lily of the valley. When God appeared to Moses, it was not in the lofty cedar, nor the sturdy oak, nor the spreading plane; but in a bush, an humble, slender, abject shrub: as if he would, by these elections, check the conceited arrogance of man. Nothing procureth love like humility; nothing hate, like pride. The proud man walks among daggers pointed against him; whereas the humble and the affable, have the people for their guard in dangers. To be humble to our superiors, is duty; to our equals, courtesy; to our inferiors, nobleness: which for all her lowness, carries such a sway that she may command their souls. But we must take heed, we express it not in unworthy actions. For then leaving virtue, it falls into disdained baseness, which is the undoubtable badge of one that will betray society. So far as a man, both in words and deeds, may be free from flattery and unmanly cowardice, he may be humble with commendation; but surely no circumstance can make the expression of pride laudable. If ever it be, it is when it meets with audacious pride, and conquers. Of this good it may then be author, that the affronting man, by his own folly, may learn the way to his duty and wit. Yet this I cannot so well call pride, as an emulation of the divine justice; which will always vindicate itself upon presumptuous ones, and is indeed said to fight against no sin but pride."

W.G.C.

* * * * *

_Curious Marriage_.--In the church of St. Martin, formerly called St. Crosse, Leicester, the marriage register contains an entry of the names of Thomas Tilsey and Ursula Russel, the first of whom being "deofe and also dombe," it was agreed by the bishop, mayor, and other gentlemen of the town, that certain signs and actions of the bridegroom should be admitted instead of the usual words enjoined by the Protestant marriage ceremony: "First he embraced her with his armes, and tooke her by the hande, put a ringe upon her finger, and laide his hande upon his harte, and upon her harte, and helde up his handes towards heaven; and, to shew his continuance to dwell with her to his lyves ende, he did it by closing of his eyes with his hands, and digging out the earthe with his fete, and pullinge as though he would ringe a bell, with divers other signes approved."

P.T.W.

* * * * *

_Fanny Kemble Tulip_.--This famous tulip which was sold a few weeks since for £100. was raised by a Mr. Clarke, of Croydon, Surrey, lately deceased. He was considered to have a first-rate show of tulips, and spent much of his time in their cultivation; the remainder of the bed was knocked down for £500. The above gentleman was an infatuated admirer of Miss Kemble, and, as a token of his admiration he named his favourite tulip after her. He was a man of the most eccentric habits: though possessed of a competent fortune, he was continually harrassed by the fear of coming to poverty--and so powerfully was he impressed with the dread of being buried in a trance, that he ordered in his will, two panes of glass to be introduced in his coffin lid, and that he should be placed in the vault without being screwed down.

SWAINE.

* * * * *

In answer to H.H. who advertises in No. 568, p. 208, of _The Mirror_, for a translation in one line rhyming with Virgil's hemistich:

Mollissima tempora fandi--

the following is suggested:

Times for persuasive speech most meet and handy.

The following motto for a tea-caddy was quoted by the celebrated J. Wilkes:

Te veniente die, Te discedente.

And when Dr. Johnson complained to Mrs. Piozzi, that her tea was so strong as to make him tipsy, he was thus answered by that learned lady:

Equidem de Te nil tale verebar.

E.B.I.

* * * * *

Dum aeger ait, "ah! ah!"
Tu dicito, "da, da."

_Mirror_, No. 568, p. 208.

_Translation_.

While the sick man in pain cries out "ah! me!"
Tell him "before I cure, first pay my fee."

_Another_.

Whilst your patient sighs, "ah, me!"
You must cry, "my fee, my fee!!"

C.B.

* * * * *

_Shaving or Throat-cutting_.--Damel, the King of the Yaloffs, (a people of Africa,) being at war with Abdulkader, King of Foota Torra, the latter inflamed with zeal for propagating his religion, sent an ambassador to Damel, accompanied by two of the principal Bashreens, who carried each a knife fixed on the top of a long pole. When they obtained admission into the presence of Damel, they announced the object of their embassy in the following manner:--"With this knife," said the ambassador, "Abdulkader will condescend to shave the head of Damel, if Damel will embrace the Mahomedan faith; and with this other knife, Abdulkader will cut the throat of Damel, if Damel refuses to embrace it--take your choice." Damel coolly replied, "That he had no choice to make; he neither chose to have his head shaved nor his throat cut;" and with this answer the ambassador was civilly dismissed.

P.T.W.

* * * * *

_Guides_.--The guides that precede travellers in India are kept in such admirable wind by their offices, that they keep up with your horse at a trot, for seven or eight miles.

* * * * *

_To Cara_.

Thy swain discarded calls thee shrew;
Would'st thou, girl, prove the charge untrue,
Marry the fool who long hath wooed,
And all will swear thou art not shrewd.

H.H.

* * * * *

_The Pledge redeemed_.

Said Tom to Sam, "Dear friend, I'm bound
To see your fortune through;"
Sam lost his wealth to Tom, and found
The rogue had spoken true.

H.H.

* * * * *

_Men of no business and Paper-cutting_.--Men of great parts (says Swift) are unfortunate in business, because they go out of the common road. I once desired Lord Bolingbroke to observe that the clerks used an ivory knife, with a blunt edge, to divide paper, which cut it even, only requiring a strong hand; whereas a sharp penknife would go out of the crease, and disfigure the paper.

P.T.W.

* * * * *

_Tremendous Explosion_.--January 4, 1649, a parish feast was held at the Rose tavern, in Tower-street, where 70 barrels of gunpowder took fire and destroyed 60 houses; all the persons assembled were killed and mangled in a shocking manner, except the mistress of the tavern, who was found sitting upright in the bar, and a drawer standing without it, with a pot in his hand; both being suffocated with smoke and dust.

* * * * *

_Value of Steam Packets_.--A steam packet of 100 horse power, equipped as it ought to be, will probably cost about 20,000_l._; expenditure of fuel, at the rate of one-half chaldron of coals per hour, wages and victualling, per month, 250_l._; tonnage duty, lights, pilotage, and port charges, 200_l._ per annum; insurance, 100_l._ per month; small repairs and winter expenses, about 500_l_. Besides which, being calculated to last only ten years, the owners should be able to lay by a sinking fund, or reserve of 2,000_l._ per annum, and 1,500_l._ for a new set of boilers during that time, making altogether the sailing expenses of such a vessel about 1,000_l._ per month.

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THE LATE SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART.

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Price Twopence,
AN ILLUSTRATED SUPPLEMENT,
Containing NOTICES of the LIFE and WRITINGS
of the late
SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART.
With Five Engravings.

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_Printed and published by J. LIMBIRD, 143, Strand, (near Somerset House,) London; sold by G.G. BENNIS, 55, Rue Neuve, St. Augustin, Paris; and by all Newsmen and Booksellers._