The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 10, No. 279, October 20, 1827

The Chevalier de St. George and the Earl of Marr had fled the country; many of their noble adherents had been fortunate enough to secure a retreat with them to France; some had been pardoned; a few had been taken in arms, and these few were executed; amongst them was the young heir of M'Alister—Inspector.

SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS

SADDLED AND BRIDLED.

BY A. CUNNINGHAM

Saddled and bridled,And booted was he—A plume at his helmet,A sword at his knee;—Toom hame came the saddleAt evening to me,And hame came his steed—But hame never came he!Down came his grey father,Sobbing fu' sair;Down came his auld mother,Tearing her hair:Down came his sweet wife,Wi' her bonnie bairns three—Ane at her bosom,And twa at her knee!There stood his fleet steed,All foaming and hot;There shrieked his sweet wife,And sank on the spot,—There stood his grey father,Weeping fu' free,For hame came his steed,But hame never came he!Literary Magnet.

TOBACCO-PIPE CONTROVERSY

A furious, and yet unappeased, controversy has lately raged in the newspapers, upon the question of the filthy nuisance of smoking tobacco—segars or pipe; and as in all other cases when men allow their passions to be heated by opposition, has run in great personalities between gentlemen who sign themselves Viator and Tabatiere. Whole columns of the newspapers have been occupied in discussing, in the first place, whether a man who smokes at all is a beast or not; and secondly, the argument has run into the comparative beastliness of smoking and snuffing. A future Hume, on looking over the journals, may thus sum up the merits of the case. About this period great hostilities arose between the advocates of segars and their opponents, which occupied the attention of thousands, who took a lively interest in the successful issue of the controversy. By the advocates for the practice it was urged with some plausibility of statement, that as to the pleasure of a segar, none but those who used them ought to express an opinion upon the point—that to appeal to experience, tobacco was in more universal use among nations than bread corn—that it had been known to stay the plague, and was the friend and companion of rich and poor. These statements were met with undisguised contempt, and it was retaliated, that the practice of using tobacco either by smoke or snuff, was a nuisance to others, thus infringing the very primary principles of civil liberty—that it led to drunkenness and debauch—that snuff spoiled the complexion—stopped the nose to the perception of odours—and that as to the ladies, they would positively spurn any approach of familiar friendship from a snuff-taker. This raised the concealed anger of the snuff-takers, who had hitherto maintained a stubborn neutrality while the argument was kept to smoke. They replied both by wit and invective—they affirmed snuff to have a moral use—"Dust to dust"—would remind them of the brevity of life—that the king and ministers patronized the habit, and gave away £10,000 worth of snuff-boxes in every year—that as to the nose being blockaded, that was a happy circumstance to London residents, and enabled them to acquire the French accent more naturally—that as to the assumed yellowness of complexion complained of, it was only studious and Werter-like—and that as to the ladies refusing to be saluted by snuff-takers, that was a thing which modesty and prudence required them to sneeze at. The historian might add by way of reflection, that nothing could more clearly show the national freedom from anxious cares, when it was thought that the public took interest in the comparative merits of blackened teeth or a snuffy pocket-handkerchief.—The Inspector.

FASHIONABLE NOVELS

Of the slip-slop reading, under this denomination, with which the town has lately been inundated, the following is a fair specimen:—

Hyde Nugent.—The book is made up completely of the gossip of drawing-rooms, hotels, dinners, and balls. As to the hero, if any one has a grain of curiosity about him—gratify it. Hyde is the son of a man of family and fortune; he goes to Oxford, fights a duel, and is expelled—prevails upon a marquess to break the matter to the father—falls in love with the marquess's daughter—goes large and loose about town—is every where introduced—and one of every party. Notwithstanding certain warnings, and his own disgusts, he frequents Crockford's—gets plucked, and moreover deeply involved with the Jews. In the meanwhile he does not neglect the marquess's daughter. They soon come to an understanding. He is irresistible—she is an houri. But the consciousness of his embarrassments press heavily upon him, and he is on the point of taking some desperate step, when he is summoned to attend a friend in a duel, who kills his antagonist; and he and Hyde are obliged to fly. This rescues him from his gaming associates; though he gets among others at Lisbon, and narrowly escapes assassination. On his return to England, his sister has married a duke's eldest son, and all the family visit the said duke's, and there also assemble the aforesaid marquess and his beautiful daughter.

But now comes forward more than before, an officer of the guards—a guardsman is now become indispensable—who is also in love with the marquess's daughter, and being not at all scrupulous of the means of accomplishing his point—a very worthless person in short—he plays Iago, and pours into the lady's ear the tale of Hyde's gambling propensities, and his deep involvements; and moreover of a lady whose affection he had wantonly won, and wantonly cut, and who was now actually dying for him. This, however, was not all true; the lady alluded to was the daughter of his father's friend and neighbour; she and Hyde had been brought up together from children, and played and romped together, and once, before Hyde went to Oxford, he had forced from her a kiss. The poor fond girl had treasured up the kiss, and Hyde had thought no more of her, or of it. She, however, pined away, and let concealment feed on her damask cheek; and at this time was at Brighton for change of air. She has a brother, a lancer; he hears, through Hyde's precious rival, of the state of his sister, and for the first time, of the cause. He flies to the duke's—though deeply occupied, at the moment, in seducing the affections of a married woman in Ireland—and calls upon Hyde to meet him forthwith. Hyde's rival is the lancer's second. Hyde falls, and as he is borne bleeding to the house, Lady Georgina, the marquess's daughter, meets him. The shock kills her outright, and the story stops; but hints are given that he slowly recovers, and by still slower degrees is brought to think of the charming girl, who had treasured his boyish kiss, and marries.—Monthly Magazine.

MAN-EATING SOCIETY

There is a horrible institution among some of the Indian tribes, which furnishes a powerful illustration of their never-tiring love of vengeance. It is called the Man-Eating Society, and it is the duty of its associates to devour such prisoners as are preserved and delivered to them for that purpose. The members of this society belong to a particular family, and the dreadful inheritance descends to all the children, male and female. Its duties cannot be dispensed with, and the sanctions of religion are added to the obligations of immemorial usage. The feast is considered a solemn ceremony, at which the whole tribe is collected as actors or spectators. The miserable victim is fastened to a stake, and burned at a slow fire, with all the refinements of cruelty which savage ingenuity can invent. There is a traditionary ritual, which regulates, with revolting precision, the whole course of procedure at these ceremonies. The institution has latterly declined, but we know those who have seen and related to us the incidents which occurred on these occasions, when white men were sacrificed and consumed. The chief of the family and principal members of the society among the Miames, whose name was White Skin, we have seen, and with feelings of loathing, excited by a narrative of his atrocities, amid the scenes when they occurred..—North American Review.

THE SELECTOR; AND LITERARY NOTICES OF NEW WORKS

SAILING ROUND CONSTANTINOPLE

Hiring a peramidias, or one of the beautiful boats which ply on the canal, I proceeded, accompanied by my janissary and dragoman, to make the circuit of the city, by rowing round the Seraglio Point into the sea of Marmora, then landing at the Seven Towers, and walking across the isthmus by the famous wall to the Golden Horn, where we again embarked, and returned to Pera. On passing the Seraglio Point, we remarked a number of cannon of different forms, ranged apparently more for effect than defence, as a sloop of war with a commanding breeze might dislodge the men; such is their exposed situation. Although two of the guns appeared to be of the calibre of sixteen or seventeen inches, and calculated to throw some immense stone-balls, which we observed near them, others were of small calibre, but having twelve barrels; over them, were suspended some very large bones, about which I could not get even a marvellous account, both my companions declaring honestly their ignorance of their history. The current sent us, with astonishing rapidity, round the Point, (on which men are always stationed with small lines to track boats upwards,) and we soon landed under the Seven Towers. The town on the west side, towards the sea presents a poor and miserable appearance. We were allowed just to enter the outer court of the castle, as it may be more properly called than the Seven Towers, because there are only two conspicuous towers, and I suspect that the term Seven Towers was originally applied to the whole wall which runs across the isthmus, and which has seven gates, over each of which was formerly placed a tower.

Leaving the castle, we proceeded along the great road which runs parallel to the venerable and highly interesting triple walls, said to have been begun by Constantine, and enlarged by the second Theodosius. They consist of alternate courses of large flat bricks and stones, in some parts perfect, with their battlements and towers; in others partly destroyed by earthquakes or time—the whole rendered venerable by thick ivy or shading trees. The height of the walls is such, that, when near them, the town is completely hid; and as the ditches are well cultivated as gardens or orchards, and the country beyond is clear of houses, it is difficult to fancy one's self so near the thickly populated city, once the mistress of the eastern world. The distance across the isthmus to the Golden Horn, or harbour, is about four miles, and the walls are uninterrupted by the before-mentioned gates. At about two-thirds of the distance, we came to Baloucli, where, in the ruins of a chapel dedicated by Justinian to the Virgin, is a fountain or well of excellent cold water, said to contain fish, black on one side and red on the other, or, according to tradition, half fried.

The Golden Horn, or harbour, terminates by the Valley of Sweet Waters, the sides of which are adorned with pleasure-grounds, and an imperial kiosk, near which, with extremely bad taste, art and expense have been exerted to the utmost to constrain and prune nature, so as to destroy the luxuriance and wildness of the rivulet and its banks, by giving them the appearance of a straight canal, passing through an avenue of formal trees, and occasionally over flights of marble steps, intended to represent cataracts. On gala days, this spot is the scene of festivity and enjoyment for persons of every sect; and before the last dispersion and persecution of the Greeks, is said, in consequence of the number of their women who frequented it, to have presented extraordinary animation and attraction. The sultan was often to be found enjoying the sight. Beyond this valley is another, where his horses are turned out to graze in the spring, and which takes place with extraordinary ceremony and pomp. So much consequence was formerly attached to the noble animals, that petitioners address themselves to the imperial stirrup. Between the Valley of the Sweet Waters and the walls, is the village of Eyub, pleasantly situated, adjoining to which are several palaces, belonging to members of the imperial family. But the most remarkable and interesting monument is the mosque or tomb of Eyub, (a disciple of Mahomet, who was killed in the first siege of Constantinople, in 608,) erected by Mahomet II. after the capture of the city, as is said, in consequence of the place of his sepulchre having been revealed to one of his favourites in a dream; he immediately ordered an excavation to be made, and very soon, either by hazard or imposture, a marble slab was discovered.

The Valley of the Sweet Waters, Eyub, and the country immediately behind the walls, may be considered the only pretty spots near Constantinople; for beyond them, and in other directions, nothing is to be seen but an expansion of unpopulated, and, at this time, sunburnt downs.

Jones's Travels.

THE CORAL ISLAND

On a stony eminence, that stoodGirt with inferior ridges, at the point,Where light and darkness meet in spectral gloom.Midway between the height and depth of ocean,I mark'd a whirlpool in perpetual play,As though the mountain were itself alive,And catching prey on every side, with feelersCountless as sunbeams, slight as gossamer:Ere long transfigured, each fine film becameAn independent creature, self-employd,Yet but an agent in one common work,The slim of all their individual labours.Shap'less they seem'd, but endless shape assumed;Elongated like worms, they writhed and shrunkTheir tortuous bodies to grotesque dimensions;Compress'd like wedges, radiated like stars,Branching like sea-weed, whirl'd in dazzling rings;Subtle and variable as flickering flames,Sight could not trace their evanescent changes,Nor comprehend their motions, till minuteAnd curious observation caught the clewTo this live labyrinth,—where every one,By instinct taught, perform'd its little task;—To build its dwelling and its sepulchre,From its own essence exquisitely modell'd;There breed, and die, and leave a progeny,Still multiplied beyond the reach of numbers.To frame new cells and tombs; then breed and die,As all their ancestors had done,—and rest,Hermetically sealed, each in its shrine,A statue in this temple of oblivion!Millions of millions thus, from age to age,With simplest skill, and toil unwearyable.No moment and no movement unimproved,Laid line on line, on terrace terrace spread,To swell the heightening, brightening gradual mound,By marvellous structure climbing tow'rds the day.Each wrought alone, yet altogether wrought,Unconscious, not unworthy, instruments,By which a hand invisible was rearingA new creation in the secret deep.Omnipotence wrought in them, with them, by them;Hence what Omnipotence alone could do,Worms did. I saw the living pile ascend.The mausoleum of its architects,Still dying upwards as their labours closed:Slime the material, but the slime was turn'dTo adamant, by their petrific touch;Frail were their frames, ephemeral their lives,Their masonry imperishable. AllLife's needful functions, food, exertion, rest,By nice economy of ProvidenceWere overruled to carry on the process.Which out of water brought forth solid rock."Atom by atom thus the burthen grew,Even like an infant in the womb, till TimeDeliver'd ocean of that monstrous birth,—A coral island, stretching east and west,In God's own language to its parent saying,'Thus far, no farther, shalt thou go; and hereShall thy proud waves be stay'd:'—A point at firstIt peer'd above those waves; a point so small,I just perceived it, fix'd where all was floating:And when a bubble cross'd it, the blue filmExpanded like a sky above the speck;That speck became a hand-breadth; day and nightIt spread, accumulated, and ere longPresented to my view a dazzling plain.White as the moon amid the sapphire sea;Bare at low water, and as still as death,But when the tide came gurgling o'er the surface,'Twas like a resurrection of the dead:From graves innumerable, punctures fineIn the close coral, capillary swarmsOf reptiles, horrent as Medusa's snakes,Cover'd the bald-pate reef; then all was life,And indefatigable industry:The artisans were twisting to and fro.In idle-seeming convolutions; yetThey never vanish'd with the ebbing surge,Till pellicle on pellicle, and layerOn layer, was added to the growing mass.Ere long the reef o'ertopt the spring-flood's height,And mock'd the billows when they leapt upon it,Unable to maintain their slippery hold,And falling down in foam-wreaths round its verge.Steep were the flanks, sharp precipices,Descending to their base in ocean gloom.Chasms few, and narrow and irregular,Form'd harbours, safe at once and perilous,—Safe for defence, but perilous to enter.A sea lake shone amidst the fossil isle,Reflecting in a ring its cliffs and caverns,With heaven itself seen like a lake below."Montgomery's Pelican Island.

THE GATHERER

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

—Wotton.

TAKING PHYSIC

David Hartley eat two hundred pounds weight of soap to cure the stone, but died of that disease. Bishop Berkeley drank a butt of tar-water. Meyer, in a course of chemical neutralization, swallowed 1,200 pounds of crabs' eyes. In the German Ephemerides, the case of a person is described who had taken so much elixir of vitriol, that his keys were rusted in his pocket by the transudation of the acid through the pores of his skin; another patient is said to have taken argentum nitratum in solution till he became blue. Throw physic to the dogs!

MARRIAGE

There are two cardinal points in a man's life, which determine his happiness or his misery; these are his birth and his marriage. It is in vain for a man to be born fortunate if he be unfortunate in his marriage.

PERVERSENESS OF FOREIGNERS

"What a rum language they talk in this place!" said an English sailor the other day to his companion, who arrived a few days later than the speaker himself had done at Rochefort—"Why, they call a cabbage a shoe—(choux!)" "They are a d—d set!" was the reply, "why can't they call it a cabbage!"

In a newspaper, dated January 31, 1746, we find the following theatrical announcement:—

"We are certainly informed that on Monday next, at the Theatre Royal, Drury-Lane, will be performed The Lying Valet, and that Mr. Steevens, at the particular desire of some persons of quality, is to act the part of Justice Guttle; in which character he will devour twelve pounds of plumb cake at three mouthfuls."

DOUBLE DEALING

Commercial morality is an unaccountable kind of thing. In the report of a recent trial for the robbery of a watch, it is stated that

"Mr. Beauchamp identified the watch. He was sure that it was not sold; he knew that circumstance from his books; and also because he had the watch for four years, not being able to recommend it; he would not have shown it to a lady, but he would have been glad to have sold it to a gentleman. There was a private mark put on it which meant nine guineas."

There is honour, it is said, among thieves. Is there gallantry in imposition?

EIKON BASILIKE

Epigram on the publication by Dr. Wordsworth, master of Trinity College, Cambridge, of his inquiry, "Who wrote Eikon Basilike?" published by Rivington. (A parody.)

Who wrote "Who wrote Eikon Basilike?"    I, says the master of trinity,—    I am a doctor o' divinity,And I wrote "Who wrote Eikon Basilike?"

TIME

Sir William Jones, so well known for his great acquisitions in oriental literature, was no less remarkable for his piety.—A friend reciting Sir Edward Coke's couplet of

"Six hours to sleep, in law's grave study six,Four spend in prayer, the rest on nature fix,"

he subjoined, rather say,

Seven hours to law, to soothing slumber seven,Ten to the world allot, and all to Heav'n.

RIVAL SINGERS

Dr. Arne was once asked by two vocalists of Covent Garden theatre, to decide which of them sung the best. The day being appointed, both parties exerted themselves to the utmost, and when they had finished, the Dr. addressing the first, said, "As for you, sir, you are the worst singer I ever heard in my life." "Ah! ah! (said the other, exulting,) I knew I should win my wager." "Stop sir," (says the Dr.) "I have a word to say to you before you go;—as for you, sir, you cannot sing at all."

HOW TO EVADE PROOF

An Irishman, charg'd with a crime,Was told it would be brought home to him:"No, no," quoth Pat, "it sha'nt this time—I'll keep away from home—and do 'em."

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

1

For the loan of the drawing (made in 1780), whence the first engraving is copied, we are indebted to the kindness of a gentleman of East Grinstead; and for the sketch of the latter to an affectionate relative.

2

See "Select Biography," page 199, present Volume of the MIRROR.

3

Notwithstanding our correspondent's equivocal title to this article, we beg to assure our readers, who may suspect us of diablerie, that we are not a party to the purchase or sale. Could an ejectment in this case be effected by common law?