The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 14, No. 379, July 4, 1829

LOVE

A BALLAD, BY THE ETTRICK SHEPHERDO, Love's a bitter thing to bide,The lad that drees it's to be pitied;It blinds to a' the warld beside,And makes a body dilde and ditied;It lies sae sair at my breast bane,My heart is melting saft an' safter;To dee outright I wad be fain,Wer't no for fear what may be after.I dinna ken what course to steer,I'm sae to dool an' daftness driven,For are so lovely, sweet, and dear,Sure never breath'd the breeze o' heaven;O there's a soul beams in her ee,Ae blink o't maks are's spirit gladder,And ay the mair she geeks at me,It pits me aye in love the madder.Love winna heal, it winna thole,You canna shun't even when you fear it;An' O, this sickness o' the soul,'Tis past the power of man to bear it!And yet to mak o' her a wife,I couldna square it wi' my duty,I'd like to see her a' her lifeRemain a virgin in her beauty;As pure as bonny as she's now,The walks of human life adorning;As blithe as bird upon the bough,As sweet as breeze of summer morning.Love paints the earth, it paints the sky,An' tints each lovely hue of Nature,And makes to the enchanted eyeAn angel of a mortal creature.Blackwood's Magazine.

Spirit of Discovery

Regent's Park

It is much to be regretted that those who first designed the plantations of the Regent's Park seem to have had little or no taste for, or knowledge of, hardy trees and shrubs; otherwise, this park might have been the first arboretum in the world. Instead of the (about) 50 sorts of trees and shrubs which it now exhibits, there might have been all the 3,000 sorts, now so admirably displaying their buds and leaves, and some of them their flowers, in the arboretum of Messrs. Loddiges at Hackney. A walk round that arboretum, at this season, is one of the greatest treats which a botanist can enjoy, and a drive round the Regent's Park might have been just as interesting. It is not yet too late to supply this defect, and the expense to government would be a mere bagatelle. The Zoological Society in the mean time, might receive contributions of herbaceous plants, and be at the expense of planting and naming them.—London's Mag.

Zoological Society

A catalogue of the members has been published, which includes 1,291 names, besides corresponding members. The museum in Bruton Street has received, and is daily receiving, valuable additions, as is the garden in the Regent's Park. The extent of this garden has been, in consequence of the various donations and purchases, considerably increased, and several neat and appropriate structures are now erecting for the abode of different specimens. It is a gratifying circumstance that these specimens are, for the most part, clearly and distinctly named, with the native country of the animal added. We could wish to see a greater variety of trees, shrubs, and herbaceous plants introduced, and equally clear names and geographical indications placed at them also. Why should it not, as far as practicable, be a botanic garden as well as a zoological garden?—Ibid.

Galvanism

Mr. Becquerel has discovered that the temperature of a conducting wire communicating with the two poles of a pile, increases from each of its extremities, and constantly reaches its maximum in the middle of the wire.—Brewster's Journal.

Alloyed Iron Plate

A manufacture of prepared iron has been practised, and the substance produced used to a considerable degree in Paris. This has been to prepare iron in large plates, and other forms, so that it will not rust. This has been effected by coating it with an alloy of tin and much lead, so as to form an imitation of tin plate. Trials have been made, and proved favourable; it resists the action of certain fluids that would rapidly corrode iron alone; it can be prepared of any size, and at a low price. Its use in the manufacture of sugarpans and boilers, in the construction of roofs and gutters, is expected to be very considerable. —Bull. d'Encouragement.

Saline Lake of Loonar in Berar

This curious lake is contained in a sort of cauldron of rocks amidst a pleasing landscape, and is of course the object of superstition. The taste of the water is uncommonly brackish. Mr. Alexander, who describes it, found by a rough analysis that 100 parts contain

Muriate of Soda      20 parts,

Muriate of Lime      10 parts,

Muriate of Magnesia   6 parts,

The principal purpose to which the sediment of the water is applied is cleansing the shawls of Cachmere. It is also used as an ingredient in the alkaline cake of the Musselmans.—Trans. Lit. Soc. Madras.

THE SELECTOR; AND LITERARY NOTICES OF NEW WORKS

AN ILLUSTRIOUS SWINDLER

[Here is a whole-length of a fine, slashing French thief, from the third volume of Vidocq, the policeman's Memoirs, of which more anon:—]

Winter was only twenty-six, a handsome brown fellow, with arched eyebrows, long lashes, prominent nose, and rakish air. Winter had, moreover, that good carriage, and peculiar look, which belongs to an officer of light cavalry, and he, therefore, assumed a military costume, which best displayed the graces of his person. One day he was an hussar, the next a lancer, and then again in some fancy uniform. At will he was chief of a squadron, commandant, aide-de-camp, colonel, &c.; and to command more consideration, he did not fail to give himself a respectable parentage; he was by turns the son of the valiant Lasalle, of the gallant Winter, colonel of the grenadiers of the imperial horse-guard; nephew of the general Comte de Lagrange, and cousin-german to Rapp; in fact, there was no name which he did not borrow, no illustrious family to which he did not belong. Born of parents in a decent situation of life, Winter had received an education sufficiently brilliant to enable him to aspire to all these metamorphoses; the elegance of his manner, and a most gentlemanly appearance, completed the illusion.

Few men had made a better début than Winter. Thrown early into the career of arms, he obtained very rapid promotion; but when an officer he soon lost the esteem of his superiors; who, to punish his misconduct, sent him to the Isle of Ré, to one of the colonial battalions. There he so conducted himself as to inspire a belief that he had entirely reformed. But no sooner was he raised a step, than committing some fresh peccadillo, he was compelled to desert in order to avoid punishment. He came thence to Paris, where his exploits as swindler and pickpocket procured him the unenviable distinction of being pointed out to the police as one of the most skilful in his twofold profession.

Winter, who was what is termed a downy one, plucked a multitude of gulpins even in the most elevated classes of society. He visited princes, dukes, the sons of ancient senators, and it was on them or the ladies of their circle that he made the experiments of his misapplied talents. The females, particularly, however squeamish they were, were never sufficiently so to prevent themselves from being plundered by him. For several months the police were on the look out for this seducing young man, who, changing his dress and abode incessantly, escaped from their clutch at the moment when they thought they had him securely, when I received orders to commence the chase after him, to attempt his capture.

Winter was one of those Lovelaces who never deceive a woman without robbing her. I thought that amongst his victims I could find at least one, who, from a spirit of revenge, would be disposed to put me on the scent of this monster. By dint of searching, I thought I had met with a willing auxiliary, but as these Ariadnes, however ill used or forsaken they may be, yet shrink from the immolation of their betrayer, I determined to accost the damsel I met with cautiously. It was necessary, before I ventured my bark, to take soundings, and I took care not to manifest any hostility towards Winter, and not to alarm that residue of tenderness, which, despite of ill usage, always remains in a sensitive heart. I made my appearance in the character of almoner of the regiment of which he was thought to command, and as such introduced to the ci-devant mistress of the pretended colonel. The costume, the language, the manner I assumed were in perfect unison with the character I was about to play, and I obtained to my wish the confidence of the fair forsaken one, who gave me unwittingly all the information I required. She pointed out to me her favoured rival, who, already ill-treated by Winter, had still the weakness to see him, and could not forbear making fresh sacrifices for him.

I became acquainted with this charming lady, and to obtain favour in her eyes, announced myself as a friend of her lover's family. The relatives of the young giddy pate had empowered me to pay his debts; and if she could contrive an interview with him for me, she might rely on being satisfied with the result of the first. Madame – was not sorry to have an opportunity of repairing the dilapidations made on her property, and one morning sent me a note, stating that she was going to dine with her lover the next day at the Boulevard du Temple, at La Galiote. At four o'clock I went, disguised as a messenger, and stationed myself at the door of the restaurant's; and after two hours' watch, I saw a colonel of hussars approach. It was Winter, attended by two servants. I went up to him, and offered to take care of the horses, which proffer was accepted. Winter alighted, he could not escape me, but his eyes met mine, and with one jump he flung himself on his horse, spurred him, and disappeared.

I thought I had him, and my disappointment was great; but I did not despair of catching my gentleman. Some time afterwards I learnt that he was to be at the Café Hardi, in the Boulevard des Italiens. I went thither with some of my agents, and when he arrived all was so well arranged, that he had only to get into a hackney coach, of which I paid the fare. Led before a commissary of police, he asserted that he was not Winter; but, despite the insignia of the rank he had conferred on himself, and the long string of orders hanging on his breast, he was properly and officially identified as the individual mentioned in the warrant which I had for his apprehension.

Winter was sentenced to eight years' imprisonment, and would now be at liberty but for a forgery which he committed while at Bicêtre, which, bringing on him a fresh sentence of eight years at the galleys, he was conducted to the Bagne at the expiration of his original sentence, and is there at present.

This adventurer does not want wit: he is, I am told, the author of a vast many songs, much in fashion with the galley slaves, who consider him us their Anacreon.

ANCIENT TYRE

The Tyrians, although not so early celebrated either in sacred or profane history, had yet attained greater renown than their Sidonian kinsmen. It is useless to conjecture at what period or under what circumstances these eastern colonists had quitted the shores of the Persian gulf, and fixed their seat on the narrow belt between the mountains of Lebanon and the sea. Probably at first they were only factories, established for connecting the trade between the eastern and western world. If so, their origin must be sought among the natives to the east of the Assyrians, as that race of industrious cultivators possessed no shipping, and was hostile to commerce. The colonists took root on this shore, became prosperous and wealthy, covered the Mediterranean with their fleets, and its shores with their factories. Tyre in the course of time became the dominant city, and under her supremacy were founded the Phoenician colonies in Greece, Sicily, Africa, and Spain. The wealth of her merchant princes had often tempted the cupidity of the despots of Asia. Salmanassar, the Assyrian conqueror of Israel, directed his attacks against Tyre, and continued them for five years, but was finally compelled to raise the siege. Nabuchadonosor was more persevering, and succeeded in capturing the city, after a siege that lasted thirteen years. The old town, situated on the continent was never rebuilt; but a new Tyre rose from its ruins. This occupied the area of a small island, described by Pliny as two miles and a half in circumference. On this confined space a large population existed, and remedied the want of extent by raising story upon story, on the plan followed by the ancient inhabitants of Edinburgh. It was separated from the main land by an armlet of the sea, about half a mile in breadth and about eighteen feet deep. The city was encircled by walls and fortifications of great strength and height, and scarcely pregnable even if accessible.

Family Library, No. 3.

SIR WILLIAM DEVEREUX,

A Portrait—by the Author of Pelham

My uncle did as his ancestors had done before him; and, cheap as the dignity had grown, went up to court to be knighted by Charles II. He was so delighted with what he saw of the metropolis, that he foreswore all intention of leaving it, took to Sedley and champagne, flirted with Nell Gwynne, lost double the value of his brother's portion at one sitting to the chivalrous Grammont, wrote a comedy corrected by Etherege, and took a wife recommended by Rochester. The wife brought him a child six months after marriage, and the infant was born on the same day the comedy was acted. Luckily for the honour of the house, my uncle shared the fate of Plimneus, king of Sicyon, and all the offspring he ever had (that is to say, the child and the play,) "died as soon as they were born." My uncle was now only at a loss to know what to do with his wife, that remaining treasure, whose readiness to oblige him had been so miraculously evinced. She saved him the trouble of long cogitation,—an exercise of intellect to which he was never too ardently inclined. There was a gentleman of the court celebrated for his sedateness and solemnity; my aunt was piqued into emulating Orpheus, and six weeks after her confinement she put this rock into motion,—they eloped. Poor gentleman! it must have been a severe trial of patience to a man never known before to transgress the very slowest of all possible walks, to have had two events of the most rapid nature happen to him in the same week. Scarcely had he recovered the shock of being ran away with by my aunt, before, terminating for ever his vagrancies, he was ran through by my uncle. The wits made an epigram upon the event; and my uncle, who was as bold as a lion at the point of a sword, was, to speak frankly, terribly disconcerted by the point of a jest. He retired to the country in a fit of disgust and gout. Here his own bon naturel rose from the layers of art which had long oppressed it, and he solaced himself by righteously governing domains worthy of a prince, for the mortifications he had experienced in the dishonourable career of a courtier. Hitherto I have spoken somewhat slightingly of my uncle; and in his dissipation he deserved it, for he was both too honest and too simple to shine in that galaxy of prostitute genius of which Charles II. was the centre. But in retirement he was no longer the same person, and I do not think that the elements of human nature could have furnished forth a more amiable character than Sir William Devereux, presiding at Christmas over the merriment of his great hall. Good old man! his very defects were what we loved best in him; vanity was so mingled with good nature that it became graceful, and we reverenced one the most, while we most smiled at the other. One peculiarity had he, which the age he had lived in, and his domestic history, rendered natural enough, viz. an exceeding distaste to the matrimonial state: early marriages were misery; imprudent marriages idiotism; and marriage at the best he was wont to say, with a kindling eye and a heightened colour, marriage at the best—was the devil. Yet it must not be supposed that Sir William Devereux was an ungallant man. On the contrary, never did the beau sexe have a humbler or more devoted servant. As nothing in his estimation was less becoming to a wise man than matrimony, so nothing was more ornamental than flirtation. He had the old man's weakness, garrulity, and he told the wittiest stories in the world, without omitting any thing in them but the point. This omission did not arise from the want either of memory or of humour, but solely from a deficiency in the malice natural to all jesters. He could not persuade his lips to repeat a sarcasm hurting even the dead or the ungrateful; and when he came to the drop of gall which should have given zest to the story, the milk of human kindness broke its barrier despite himself, and washed it away. He was a fine wreck, a little prematurely broken by dissipation, but not perhaps the less interesting on that account; tall, and somewhat of the jovial old English girth, with a face where good nature and good living mingled their smiles and glow. He wore the garb of twenty years back, and was curiously particular in the choice of his silk stockings. He was not a little vain of his leg, and a compliment on that score was always sure of a gracious reception.

The Gatherer

A snapper up of unconsidered trifles.SHAKSPEARE.

Lord Sundon was one of the commissioners of the treasury in the reign of George II. The celebrated Bob Doddington was a colleague of the noble lord, and was always complaining of his slowness of comprehension. One day that lord Sundon laughed at something which Doddington had said, Winnington, another member of the board, said to him, in a whisper, "You are very ungrateful: you see lord Sundon takes your joke." "No, no," replied Doddington, "he is laughing now at what I said last board day."—Monthly Mag.

STINGING MISTAKE

A certain person, who shall be nameless, filled the situation of Plumian Professor of Astronomy at Oxford. He was a great stickler for decorum, and all due respect to his office. One day he received a letter by the post, directed to himself, as the Plumbian Professor. He shook with indignation. What an insult! Plumbian professor! Leaden professor! Was it meant to insinuate that there was any thing of a leaden quality in his lectures or writings! While thus irate, a friend of the professor happened to drop in. He showed him the letter, and expatiated upon the indignity of the superscription. His friend *endeavoured to convince him that it must be merely a slip of the pen. In vain. The professor would not be pacified. "Well," said his friend, "at any rate, it is evident the b has stung you."—Ibid.

An Irish barrister had the failing of Goldsmith, in an eminent degree: that of believing he could do every thing better than any other person. This propensity exhibited itself ludicrously enough on one occasion, when a violent influenza prevailed in Dublin. A friend who happened to meet him, mentioned a particular acquaintance, and observed that he had had the influenza very bad. "Bad!" exclaimed the other, "I don't know how bad he has had it, but I am sure I have had it quite as bad as he, or any one else."—"Not quite, I think," replied his friend, "for poor Mr. Gillicuddy is dead."—"Well," rejoined our tenacious optimist, "and what of that? I could have died too, if I had liked it."—Ibid.

THE LATE SIR HUMPHRY DAVY, BART

THE SUPPLEMENT, containing Title, Preface, and Index to Vol. xiii. and a fine Steel-platePORTRAIT OF SIR HUMPHRY DAVY, BARTWith a copious Memoir of his interesting Life and Discoveries, Notices of his Literary Works, &c. is now Publishing

LIMBIRD'S EDITION OF THE

Following Novels is already Published:

1

The following lines are inscribed on its pedestal, in Latin, and in English:—

Lest at the sculptor doubtfully you guess,'Tis Marc Agrati, not Praxiteles.

This statue is reckoned worth its weight in gold.