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THE MIRROR OF LITERATURE, AMUSEMENT, AND INSTRUCTION.

VOL. X, NO. 277.]  SATURDAY, OCTOBER 13, 1827.  [PRICE 2d.

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[Illustration: The Palace at Stockholm.]




THE PALACE AT STOCKHOLM.


The palace at Stockholm is the redeeming grace of that city.--Stockholm
"not being able to boast any considerable place or square, nor indeed
any street wider than an English lane; the exterior of the houses is
dirty, the architecture shabby, and all strikes as very low and
confined. Yet the palace must be excepted; and that is commanding, and
in a grand and simple taste." Such is the description of Stockholm by
Sir Robert Ker Porter; but, as he admits, he had just left the city of
St. Petersburgh, and being probably dazzled with the freshness of its
splendour, Stockholm suffered in the contrast.

But Sir R.K. Porter is not entirely unsupported in his opinion. Mr.
James, in his interesting "Journal of a Tour in Sweden, &c." published
in 1816, describes the suburbs of Stockholm as "uniting every beauty of
wild nature, with the charms attendant upon the scenes of more active
life; but the examples of architecture within the town, if we except the
mansions of the royal family, are not of a style at all corresponding
with these delightful environs. The private houses make but little show;
and the general air of the public buildings is not of the first style of
magnitude, or in any way remarkable for good taste. One point, however,
may be selected, that exhibits in a single prospect all that the capital
can boast of this description. There is a long bridge of granite,
connecting the city in the centre with the northern quarters of the
town: immediately at one extremity rises the _royal palace_, a
large square edifice, with extensive wings, and of the most simple and
elegant contour; the other extremity is terminated by an equestrian
statue of Gustavus Adolphus, forming the chief object of a square, that
is bounded on the sides by handsome edifices of the Corinthian order;
one the palace of the Princess Sophia, the other the Italian
Opera-house."

Mr. A. de Capell Brooke, who visited Stockholm in the summer of 1820,
describes the palace as "a beautiful and conspicuous object, its walls
washed by the Baltic."--It is square, on an elevated ground, has a
spacious court in the centre, and is in every respect worthy a royal
residence. Near the entrance are two large bronze lions, which are
admirably executed. "The view of the palace from the water," says Sir
R.K. Porter, "reminds us of Somerset House, though it far exceeds the
British structure in size, magnificence, and sound architecture." It
contains some good paintings, and a fine gallery of statues, chiefly
antique, collected by the taste and munificence of Gustavus III. The
_Endymion_ is a _chef d'oeuvre_ of its kind, and the Raphael
china is of infinite value, but a splendid example of genius and talent
misapplied.

All travellers concur in their admiration of the site and environs of
Stockholm, and in deprecating the malappropriation of the former, Porter
says, "The situation of this capital deserves finer edifices. Like St.
Petersburg, it is built on islands; seven, of different extent, form its
basis; they lie between the Baltic and the Malar lake. The harbour is
sufficiently deep, even up to the quay, to receive the largest vessels.
At the extremity of the harbour, the streets rise one above another in
the form of an amphitheatre, with the magnificent palace, _like a rich
jewel in an Æthiop's ear_, in the centre."

Mr. Brooke describes the situation of the city as "singular and even
romantic. Built on seven small rocky islands, it in this respect
resembles Venice. A great part of the city, however, stands upon the
steep declivity of a very high hill; houses rising over houses, so that,
to the eye, they seem supported by one another. Below, commerce almost
covers the clear waters of the Baltic with a tall forest of masts; while
far above, and crowning the whole, stands the commanding church of St.
Catherine. From the top of this the eye is at first lost in the
boundless prospect of forest, lake, and sea, spreading all around: it
then looks down upon Stockholm, intersected in all directions by water;
the royal palace; and lastly, ranges over the forests of pines extending
themselves almost down to the gates of the city, spotted with villas,
and skirted in the most picturesque manner by the numerous beautiful
lakes, which so pleasingly relieve the beauties of the country. The
other objects, which will repay the curiosity of the stranger in
inspecting them, are, the royal palace; the military academy at
Cartberg; the arsenal; the senate house; the _Ridderholm_, where
the kings of Sweden are interred; the cabinet of natural history; the
annual exhibition of paintings; the fine collection of statue in the
palace."

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CROSS FELL, WESTMORELAND.

(_For the Mirror._)


This mountain is situate near the end of a ridge of mountains, leading
from Stainmore or Stonemore, about sixteen miles in length. It descends
gradually from Brough to the Grained Tree, the former boundary mark
dividing Yorkshire from Westmoreland. Passing over several mountains, we
arrive at Dufton Fell, of the same ridge.

At the foot of this fell there is a curious little petrifying spring,
which turns moss, or any other porous matter which may fall within its
vortex, or the steams and vapours arising therefrom, into hard stone,
insomuch that upon the mouth of it there is a considerable hill of such
petrifaction.

Cross Fell is the highest mountain of the whole ridge, and is bounded by
a small rivulet stocked with trouts. This was formerly called Fiends'
Fell, from evil spirits, which are said to have haunted its summit, "and
to have continued their haunts and nocturnal vagaries upon it, until
Saint Austin erected a _cross_ and _altar_, whereon he offered
the _holy eucharist_, by which he countercharmed those hellish
fiends, and broke their haunts."--_Robinson's History of Cumberland
and Westmoreland_, 1709.

Since the saint expelled the fiends, the mountain (it appears) has taken
the name of Cross Fell, in commemoration of the event.

There are now existent seven stones lying in a careless condition on the
top of this mountain, as if destroyed by the hand of time. The stones,
it is supposed, are the remains of the cross and altar. One stone is
considerably higher than the rest, and they are overgrown with moss.

I have heard many of the traditions which are very current, but all such
hyperboles, that were I to give one, the reader would be convulsed with
laughter. I trust, sir, if you have any travellers among your numerous
readers, they will give this a further investigation, and I (as well as
yourself, doubtless) shall be happy to learn the result.

Your's. &c.

W.H.H.

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SALMON KIPPERING, IN DUMBARTONSHIRE.

(_For the Mirror_.)


Salmon are caught in less or greater abundance in all the rivers of this
county. The salmon-fisheries of Lochlomond and the Leven are of
considerable value. In several parts of the county salmon are cured in a
peculiar manner, called kippering; and throughout Scotland kippered
salmon is a favourite dish. It is practised here in the following
manner:--All the blood is taken from the fish immediately after it is
killed; this is done by cutting the gills. It is then cut up the back on
each side the bone, or chine, as it is commonly called. The bone is
taken out, but the tail, with two or three inches of the bone, is left;
the head is cut off; all the entrails are taken out, but the skin of the
belly is left uncut; the fish is then laid, with the skin undermost, on
a board, and is well rubbed and covered over with a mixture of equal
quantities of common salt and Jamaica pepper. Some of this mixture is
carefully spread under the fins to prevent them from corrupting, which
they sometimes do, especially if the weather is warm. A board with a
large stone is sometimes laid upon the fish, with a view to make the
salt penetrate more effectually. In some places, as Dumbarton, instead
of a flat board, a shallow wooden trough is used, by which means the
brine is kept about the fish; sometimes two or three salmon are kippered
together in the same vessel, one being laid upon the other. The fish,
with the board or trough, is set in a cool place for two or three days;
it is then removed from the board, and again rubbed with salt and
pepper; after which it is hung up by the tail, and exposed to the rays
of the sun or the heat of the fire. Care is previously taken to stretch
out the fish by means of small sticks or hoops placed across it from
side to side. After it has remained in the heat a few days, it is hung
up in a dry place till used. Some people, in order to give the kipper a
peculiar taste, highly relished by not a few, carefully smoke it with
peat reek, or the reek of juniper bushes. This is commonly done by
hanging it up so near a chimney in which peats or juniper bushes are
burnt, as to receive the smoke; there it remains two or three weeks, by
which time it generally acquires the required flavour.

T.S.W.

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DEBTOR AND CREDITOR.

(_Concluded from page 227._)


Debt is obligation, and "obligation," says Hobbes, "is thraldom." This
will be evident if we once consider to what a variety of mean shifts the
state of being in debt exposes us. It sits like fetters of iron on
conscience; but as old offenders often whistle to the clanking of their
chains, so rogues lighten their hearts by increasing their debts. It
destroys freedom as much as a debtor is his creditor's slave; and, under
certain circumstances, his range may be reduced to a few square feet,
and his view prescribed by a few cubits of brick walls; and, humiliating
as this may appear, it sits lightly on the majority, since, even the
brawlers for liberty, forgetting "the air they breathe," are often to be
found within its pale; but in this case they also forget, that being in
legal debt is less venial than many other sins, since it cannot be
cleared by any appeals to argument, or settled by shades of opinion.
Subterfuge, lying, and loss of liberty, are not all the miseries of a
conscious debtor: in the world he resembles a prisoner at large; he
walks many circuitous miles to avoid being dunned, and would sooner meet
a mad dog than an angry creditor. He lives in a sort of _abeyance_,
and sinks under shame when caught enjoying an undue luxury. In short, he
is cramped in all his enjoyments, and considers his fellow, out of debt,
as great as the emperor of the celestial empire, after whose repast
other kings may dine. Hence ensue repining and envy: he fancies himself
slighted by the world, and, in return, he cares not for the opinion of
the world; his energies waste, and he falls.

These sufferings, however, appertain but to one class of debtors. There
are others who scorn such compunctious visitations, and set all laws of
conscience at defiance. They press into their service all the aids of
cunning, and travel on byroads of the world till they are bronzed enough
for its highway. Their memories are like mirrors, and their debts like
breathings on them, which vanish the same moment they are produced. They
look on mankind as a large family, and the world as a large storehouse,
or open house, where they have a claim proportioned to their wants. They
clear their consciences by maintaining, that what is parted with is not
lost, and foster their hopes with the idea of its reversion. They think
those who _can_ ride ought not to walk; and, therefore, that all
men have the option of such chances of good-fortune. With this laxity of
principle they quarter themselves on the credulity of extortionate
tradesmen, and the good-natured simplicity of friends or associates.
If, perchance, they possess any excellence above their society, they
consider it as a redeeming grace for their importunities, and,
calculating on the vulgarism _ad captandum_, that what is dearest
bought is most prized, they make their friends pay freely for their
admiration. Nor are such admirers willing to break the spell by which
they are bound, since, by their unqualified approval they sanction, and
flatter _the man_ of their party, to their mutual ruin; for, as
Selden observes, "he who will keep a monkey should surely pay for the
glasses he breaks."

Prone as men are to the crooked path, and still more apt as the weak and
ignorant are to indulge them in such a course, perhaps the love of
principle is as strong in men's hearts as it ever will be. Of times gone
by, we must not here speak; because the _amor patriæ_ its has long
since shifted to _amor nummi_, and naked honesty has learned the
decency of dress. There have been profligates in all ages; but the
world, though sometimes a severe master, ruins as many by its deceitful
indulgence, as by its ill-timed severity. Good fellows are usually the
worst treated by the world allowing them to go beyond their tether, and
then cutting them off out of harm's way. Nothing but an earlier
discipline can improve us; for so habitual is debt, that the boy who
forestals his pocket-money uses it as a step-ladder to mortgaging his
estate. The sufferers, in such cases, are generally shut up in prisons
or poor-houses, to afflict or console each other as their sensibilities
may direct; and thus the salutary lessons, which their condition might
afford, is lost to the world. Neither are such scenes of real misery
courted by mankind; the nearest semblances which they can bear being in
the sentimentalities of the stage, encumbered as they often are by
overstrained fiction and caricature. On the contrary, a walk through
those receptacles of human woe, and the little histories of their
inmates, will often furnish as many lessons of morality and
world-knowledge as will suffice us for life. We may there see the
rapacious creditor at the same goal with the unfortunate debtor, whom he
has hunted through life, supplicating mercy which he never exercised,
and vainly attempting to recant a course of cruelty and persecution, by
mixing up his merited sufferings with the distresses of his abused
companions.

Goldsmith has said, that "every man is the architect of his own
fortune;" and perhaps there are few men, who, in the moments of their
deepest suffering, have not felt the force of this assertion. In high
life, embarrassments are generally to be attributed to the love of
gambling, prodigality, or some such sweeping vice, which no station can
control. Bankruptcies, or failures in trade, being common occurrences,
are seldom traced to their origin, too often found to be in expensive
habits, and overreaching or misguided speculations, and sometimes in the
treachery and villany of partners; and, amidst this bad system, so
nicely is credit balanced, that a run of ill luck, or a mere idle
whisper, is often known to destroy commercial character of a century's
growth. But in these cases it should be recollected, that the reputation
of the parties has probably been already endangered by some great
stretch of enterprize, calculated to excite envy or suspicion.

Debts of fashion, or those contracted in high life, are usually the most
unjust, probably the result of honesty being more a virtue of necessity
than of choice, and of the disgraceful system of imposing on the
extravagant and wealthy. Experience, it is granted, is a treasure which
fools must purchase at a high price; but however largely we may hold
possession of that commodity, it will not excuse that scheme of
bare-weight honesty, which some are apt to make the standard of their
dealings with the rich. A man of family, partly from indiscretion, and
from various other causes, becomes embarrassed; the clamours of his
creditors soon magnify his luxuries, but not a word is said about their
innumerable extortions, in the shape of commissions, percentages, and
other licensed modifications of cheatery, nor are they reckoned to the
advantage of the debtor. These may be practices of experience, custom,
and money-getting, but they are not rules of conscience. In truth, there
is not a more painful scene than the ruin of a young man of family.
There is so much vice and unprincipled waste opposed to indignant and
rapacious clamour, often accompanied with idle jests. Here again is food
for the vitiated appetites of scandalmongers, and that miserable but
numerous portion of mankind, who rejoice at the fall of a superior. The
name of _debtor_ is an odium which a proud spirit can but ill
support; cunning and avarice come in a thousand shapes, not to retrieve
lost credit, but to swell the list of embarrassments;--friends have fled
at the approach of the crisis, and associates appear but to pluck the
poor victim of the wrecks of his fortune! Absenteeism, the curse of
England, is the only alternative of wretched and humiliating
imprisonment. An entire change of habit ensues: ease and elegance of
manners dwindle into coldness and neglect, liberality to meanness, and
good-natured simplicity to chicanery and cunning. In society, too, how
changed; once the gay table companion, full of gallantry and wit, now
solitary and dejected, with the weeds of discomfort and despair rankling
around his heart. If fortune ever enable him to regenerate from such
obscurity, perhaps custom may have habituated him to privation till the
return of comfort serves little more than to awaken recollections of
past error or obligation, and to embitter future enjoyment. Such a
change may, however, empower him to adjust his conscience with men, of
all satisfaction the most valuable; notwithstanding that the world is
readier to exaggerate error, than recognise such sterling principle. It
is alike obvious, that men who are under the stigma of debt, do not
enjoy that ease which they are commonly thought to possess. The horrors
of dependance, in all its afflicting shapes, are known to visit them
hourly, although in some instances, buoyancy of spirits, and affected
gaiety may enable them to appear happy; and ofttimes would they be
awakened to a sense of these fallacies, and thus become reformed, were
it not for the rigour of persecution, which renders them reckless of all
that may ensue, and callous to the honourable distinctions of man. This
of a truth, is tampering with human weakness, and is too often known to
prove the upshot of industry, by sacrificing principle to vindictive
passion.

That a system of debt is identified with the existence and framework of
all commercial republics, is well known; else, genius would cease to be
fostered, enterprise would be cramped, and industry wither on her own
soil. Nevertheless, the system may be so extended, as to beget
indifference for the future and neglect of our present concerns, which
leads to gradual ruin. Time "travels at divers paces," but with none
more quickly than the unprepared debtor; and he who allows his debts to
get the start of his fortune, lives upon other men's estates, and must
accordingly become the slave of their passions and prejudices: in truth,
he may be thus said to be parting with his existence by piece-meal.
Hence, he becomes a kind of _convict_ in society--his debts
resembling a log of wood chained to his body, and a brand-mark on his
conscience. Thus pent up with fear and disquietude, his imprisonment is
twofold, and being an enemy to his own peace, he is apt to imagine all
men to be leagued against him. If his debts are those of youth, his old
age will probably resemble the sequel to revelry, when appetite is fled
to make way for disgust and spleen: and he dies--in debt. Mark the
lamentable scenes that follow, when the pride of inheritance sinks
before the unsparing hand of the usurer, or extortionate mortgagee.

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SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS.

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SIR LUMLEY SKEFFINGTON.


Sir Lumley St. George Skeffington was the dandy of the olden time, and a
kinder, better-hearted man, never existed. He is a person of some taste
in literature, and of polished manners, nor has his long intercourse
with fashionable society at all affected that simplicity of character
for which he has been remarkable. He was a true dandy: and much more
than, that, he was a perfect gentleman. I remember, long long since,
entering Covent Garden Theatre, when I observed a person holding the
door to let me pass; deeming him to be one of the box-keepers, I was
about to nod my thanks: when I found, to my surprise, that it was
Skeffington, who had thus goodnaturedly honoured a stranger by his
attention. We with some difficulty obtained seats in a box, and I was
indebted to accident for one of the most agreeable evenings I remember
to have passed.

I remember visiting the Opera, when late dinners were the rage, and the
hour of refection was carried far into the night. I was again placed
near the fugleman of fashion (for to his movements were all eyes
directed: and his sanction determined the accuracy of all conduct). He
bowed from box to box, until recognising one of his friends in the lower
tier, "Temple," he exclaimed, drawling out his weary words,
"at--what--hour--do--you--dine--to-day?" It had gone half-past eleven
when he spoke!

I saw him once enter St. James's Church, having at the door taken a
ponderous red-morocco prayer-book from his servant; but, although
prominently placed in the centre aisle, the pew-opener never offered him
a seat; and, stranger still, none of his many friends beckoned him to a
place. Others, in his rank of life, might have been disconcerted at the
position in which he was placed: but Skeffington was too much of a
gentleman to be in any way disturbed; so he seated himself upon the
bench between two aged female paupers, and most reverently did he go
through the service, sharing with the ladies his book, the print of
which was more favourable to their devotions than their own diminutive
Liturgies.

_New Monthly Magazine._

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MARQUESS OF CLEVELAND.


In the Gazette of September 17, 1827, is registered the grant of the
title of _Marquess of Cleveland_ to the Earl of Darlington.

The noble Earl probably selected the title of "Cleveland" in consequence
of his representing the extinct Dukes of Cleveland. King Charles the
Second, on the 3rd of August, 1670, created his mistress, Barbara
Villiers, the daughter and heiress of William, second Viscount Grandison
in Ireland, and wife of Roger Palmer, Earl of Castlemaine, Baroness
Nonsuch, in the county of Surrey, Countess of Southampton, and
_Duchess of Cleveland_, with remainder to two of her natural sons
by the King, Charles Fitz Roy, and George Fitz Roy, who was created Duke
of Northumberland in 1674, but died S.P., and to the heirs male of their
bodies lawfully begotten respectively. The Duchess died in 1709, and was
succeeded by her eldest son, Charles, who had been before created Duke
of Southampton. He had issue, three sons: William, his successor in his
honours; Charles, and Henry, who both died S.P.; and three daughters,
Barbara, who died unmarried; Grace; and Ann; who was the wife of Francis
Paddy, Esquire, and had issue.

Grace, the Duke's second daughter, married Henry, first Earl of
Darlington; and on the death of her brother William, second and last
Duke of Cleveland, S.P., in 1774, her son, Henry, second Earl of
Darlington, the father of the present Marquess of Cleveland, became one
of the representatives of that family. It is an extraordinary fact, that
the attainder of the celebrated Sir Henry Vane should never have been
reversed, though his son was created a Baron, his great-grandson a
Viscount and Earl, and his great-great-great-grandson a Marquess. The
only individual on whom the title of Cleveland has been conferred,
besides Barbara Villiers and her descendants, was Thomas, fourth Lord
Wentworth, who was created Earl of Cleveland in February, 1626; but it
became extinct on his death, S.P.M., in 1667.

_Retrospective Review._

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DIRTY PEOPLE.


A dirty dog is a nuisance not to be borne. But here the question
arises,--who--what--is a dirty dog? Now there are men (no women)
naturally--necessarily--dirty. They are not dirty by chance or
accident--say twice or thrice per diem--but they are always dirty--at
all times and in all places--and never and nowhere more disgustingly so
than when figged out for going to church. It is in the skin--in the
blood--in the flesh--and in the bone--that with such the disease of dirt
more especially lies. We beg pardon, no less in the hair. Now such
persons do not know that they are dirty--that they are unclean beasts.
On the contrary, they often think themselves pinks of purity--incarnations
of carnations--impersonations of moss-roses--the spiritual essences
of lilies, "imparadised in form of that sweet flesh." Now, were such
persons to change their linen every half hour night and day, that is,
were they to put on forty-eight clean shirts in the twenty-four
hours,--and it would not be reasonable, perhaps, to demand more of
them,--yet though we cheerfully grant that one and all of the shirts
would be dirty, we as sulkily deny that at any given moment from sunrise
to sunset, and over again, the wearer would be clean. He would be just
every whit and bit as dirty as if he had known but one single shirt all
his life--and firmly believed his to be the only shirt in the universe.

Men, again, on the other hand, there are--and, thank God, in great
numbers--who are naturally so clean, that we defy you to make them
_bonâ fide_ dirty. You may as well drive down a duck into a dirty
puddle, and expect lasting stains on its pretty plumage. Pope says the
same thing of swans--that is, poets--when speaking of Aaron Hill diving
into the ditch--

  "He bears no tokens of the sabler streams,
  But soars far off among the swans of Thames."


Pleasant people of this kind of constitution you see going about of a
morning rather in dishabille--hair uncombed haply--face and hands even
unwashed--and shirt with a somewhat day-before-yesterdayish hue. Yet are
they, so far from being dirty, at once felt, seen, and smelt, to be
among the very cleanest of his majesty's subjects. The moment you shake
hands with them, you feel in the firm flesh of palm and finger that
their heart's blood circulates purely and freely from the point of the
highest hair on the apex of the pericranium, to the edge of the nail on
the large toe of the right foot. Their eyes are as clean as unclouded
skies--the apples on their cheeks are like those on the tree--what need,
in either case, of rubbing off dust or dew with a towel? What though,
from sleeping without a night-cap, their hair may be a little toosey? It
is not dim--dull--oily--like half-withered sea-weeds! It will soon comb
itself with the fingers of the west wind--that tent-like tree its
toilette--its mirror that pool of the clear-flowing Tweed.

Irishmen are generally sweet--at least in their own green isle.--So are
Scotchmen. Whereas, blindfolded, take a cockney's hand, immediately
after it has been washed and scented, and put it to your nose--and you
will begin to be apprehensive that some practical wit has substituted in
lieu of the sonnet-scribbling bunch of little fetid fives, the body of
some chicken-butcher of a weasel, that died of the plague. We have seen
as much of what is most ignorantly and malignantly denominated dirt--one
week's earth--washed off the feet of a pretty young girl on a Saturday
night, at a single sitting, in the little rivulet that runs almost round
about her father's hut, as would have served a cockney to raise his
mignionette in, or his crop of cresses. How beautifully glowed the
crimson-snow of the singing creature's new-washed feet!

It will be seen, from these hurried remarks, that there is more truth
than Dr. Kitchiner was aware of in his apophthegm--that a clean skin may
be regarded as next in efficacy to a clear conscience. But the doctor
had but a very imperfect notion of the meaning of the words--clean
skin--his observation being not even skin-deep. A wash-hand basin--a bit
of soap--and a coarse towel--he thought would give a cockney on
Ludgate-hill a clean skin--just as many good people think that a Bible,
a prayer-book, and a long sermon can give a clear conscience to a
criminal in Newgate. The cause of the evil, in both cases, lies too deep
for tears. Millions of men and women pass through nature to eternity
clean-skinned and pious--with slight expense either in soap or sermons;
while millions more, with much week-day bodily scrubbing, and much
Sabbath spiritual sanctification, are held in bad odour here, while they
live, by those who happen to sit near them, and finally go out like the
snuff of a candle.--_Blackwoods Magazine_.

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QUACKERY.


A short time since a soi-disant doctor sold water of the pool of
Bethesda, which was to cure all complaints, if taken at the time when
the angel visited the parent spring, on which occasion the doctor's
bottled water manifested, he said, its sympathy with its fount by its
perturbation. Hundreds purchased the Bethesda-water, and watched for
the commotion and the consequence, with the result to be expected. At
last one, less patient than the rest, went to the doctor, and complained
that though he had kept his eye constantly on the water for a whole
year, he had never yet discovered anything like the signs of an angel in
his bottle.

"That's extremely strange," exclaimed the doctor. "What sized bottle did
you buy, sir?"

Patient.--"A half-guinea-one, doctor."

Doctor.--"Oh, that accounts for it. The half-guinea bottles contain so
small a quantity of the invaluable Bethesda-water, that the agitation
is scarcely perceptible; but if you buy a five-guinea bottle, and watch
it well, you will in due season see the commotion quite plain,
sympathizing with that of the pool when visited by the angel."

The patient bought the five guinea bottle as advised, and kept a sharp
look out for the angel till the day of his death.

_London Magazine._

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HANGING BY DESIRE.


Some few years ago, two fellows were observed by a patrol sitting on a
lamp-post in the New Road, and on closely watching them, he discovered
that one was tying up the other (who offered no resistance) by the neck.
The patrol interfered, to prevent such a strange kind of murder, and was
assailed by both, and pretty considerably beaten for his good offices.
The watchmen, however, poured in, and the parties were secured. On
examination the next morning, it appeared that the men had been
gambling; that one had lost all his money to the other, and had at last
proposed to stake his clothes. The winner demurred; observing, that he
could not strip his adversary naked, in the event of his losing. "Oh,"
replied the other, "do not give yourself any uneasiness about that. If I
lose, I shall be unable to live, and you shall hang me, and take my
clothes after I am dead; as I shall then, you know, have no occasion for
them." The proposed arrangement was assented to; and the fellow, having
lost, was quietly submitting to the terms of the treaty, when he was
interrupted by the patrol, whose impertinent interference he so angrily
resented.--_Ibid._

       *        *        *        *        *




RETROSPECTIVE GLEANINGS.

       *       *       *       *       *


TRIAL OF CHARLES I.


On the morning of Jan. 20th, 1648, towards noon, the High Court, having
first held its secret sitting in the Painted Chamber, prepared to enter
upon the final details of its mission. Prayers were scarcely over,
before it was announced that the king, borne in a close sedan between
two rows of soldiers, was on the point of making his appearance.
Cromwell ran to the windows, and as suddenly hastened back, pale yet
highly excited--"He is here, he is here, sirs; the hour for this grand
affair draws nigh. Decide promptly, I beseech you, what you intend to
reply; for he will instantly inquire in whose name and by what authority
you presume to try him." No one making any reply, Henry Martin at length
observed--"In the name of the Commons assembled in Parliament, and of
all the good people of England." To this no objection was made. The
court proceeded in solemn procession towards Westminster Hall, the
President Bradshaw at its head; before him were borne the mace and
sword; and sixteen officers armed with partisans, preceded the court.
The President took his place in an arm-chair adorned with crimson
velvet; at his feet sat the clerk, near a table covered with a rich
Turkey carpet, and upon which were placed the mace and sword. On the
right and left appeared the members of the court upon seats of scarlet
cloth; while at the two ends of the hall stood the guards, all armed, a
little in advance of the tribunal. The court being installed, all the
doors were thrown open; the crowd rushed into the hall. Silence being
restored, the act of the Commons appointing the court was read, the
names were called over, and sixty-nine members were found to be present.
"Sergeant," said Bradshaw, "let the prisoner be brought forward!"

The king appeared under guard of Colonel Hacker and thirty-two officers.
An arm-chair, adorned with crimson velvet, was in readiness for him at
the bar. He came forward; fixed a long and severe look upon the court,
and seated himself without taking off his hat. Suddenly he rose, looked
round at the guard upon the left, and at the spectators upon the right
of the hall; again fixed his eyes upon his judges, and then sat down,
amidst the general silence of the court.

Bradshaw rose instantly:--"Charles Stuart, King of England, the English
Commons assembled in Parliament, deeply penetrated with a sense of the
evils that have fallen upon this nation, and of which you are considered
the chief author, are resolved to inquire into this sanguinary crime.
With this view they have instituted this High Court of Justice, before
which you are summoned this day. You will now hear the charges to be
preferred against you."

The Attorney General Coke now rose. "Silence!" exclaimed the king, at
the same time touching him on the shoulder with his cane. Coke,
surprised and irritated, turned round; the handle of the king's cane
fell off, and for a few moments he appeared deeply affected. None of his
attendants were at hand to take it up; he stooped and picked it up
himself, and then resumed his seat. Coke proceeded to read the act
imputing to the king all the evils arising first out of his tyranny,
subsequently from the war; and requiring that he should be bound to
reply to the charges, and that judgment should be pronounced against him
as a tyrant, a traitor, and a murderer.

During this time, the king continued seated, directing his eyes towards
his judges, or towards the spectators, without betraying any emotion.
Once he rose; turned his back upon the court to see what was passing
behind him, and again sat down with an expression at once of
inquisitiveness and indifference in his manner. Upon hearing the words:
"Charles Stuart, a tyrant, traitor, and murderer," he laughed, though he
still remained silent.

The act being read, "Sir," said Bradshaw, "you have now heard the act of
accusation against you: the court expects you to reply."

_The King_. "First, I wish to know by what authority I am summoned
here. A short time since, I was in the Isle of Wight engaged in
negociations with both houses of parliament, under guarantee of the
public faith. We were upon the point of concluding a treaty. I would be
informed by what authority--I say legitimate authority--for of
illegitimate authorities there are, I know, many, like that of robbers
on the highway;--I would be informed, I repeat, by what authority I have
been dragged from place to place, I know not with what views. When I am
made acquainted with this legitimate authority, I will reply."

_Bradshaw_. "If you had attended to what was addressed to you by
the court upon your arrival, you would know in what this authority
consisted. It calls upon you, in the name of the people of England, of
whom you were elected king, to make a reply."

_The King_. "No sir, I deny this."

_Bradshaw_. "If you refuse to acknowledge the authority of the
court, it will proceed against you."

_The King_. "I maintain that England never was an elective kingdom;
for nearly the space of a thousand years it has been altogether an
hereditary one. Let me know, then, by what authority I am summoned here.
Inquire from Colonel Cobbett, who is here at hand, if I were not brought
by force from the Isle of Wight. I will yield to none in maintaining the
just privileges of the House of Commons in this place. But where are the
Lords? I see no Lords here necessary to constitute a parliament. A king,
moreover, is essential to it. Now is this what is meant by bringing the
king to meet his parliament?"

_Bradshaw._ "Sir, the court awaits a definitive answer from you. If
what we have stated respecting our authority does not satisfy you, it is
sufficient for us, we know that it is founded upon the authority of God
and of the country."

_The King._ "It is neither my opinion nor yours which should decide."

_Bradshaw._ "The court has heard you; you will be disposed of
according to its orders. Let the prisoner be removed. The court adjourns
until Monday."

The court then withdrew; and the king retired under the same escort that
had accompanied him. Upon rising he perceived the sword placed upon the
table, "I have no fear of that," he observed, pointing towards it with
his cane. As he descended the staircase, several voices called out
"Justice! justice!" but far the greater number were heard to exclaim,
"God save the king! God save your majesty."

On the morrow at the opening of the sitting, sixty-two members being
present, the court ordered strict silence to be observed under pain of
imprisonment. On his arrival, however, the king was not the less
received with marked applause. The same sort of discussion commenced,
and with equal obstinacy on both sides. "Sir," at length, exclaimed
Bradshaw, "neither you, nor any other person shall be permitted to
question the jurisdiction of this court. It sits by authority of the
Commons of England--an authority to which both you and your predecessors
are to be held responsible."

_The King._ "I deny that. Show me a single precedent." Bradshaw
rose up in a passion: "Sir, we do not sit here to reply to your
questions. Plead to the accusation, _guilty_ or not _guilty_."

_The King._ "You have not yet heard my reasons."

_Bradshaw._ "Sir, no reason can be advanced against the highest of
all jurisdictions."

_The King._ "Point out to me this jurisdiction; or you refuse to
hear reason."

_Bradshaw._ "Sir, we show it to you here. Here are the Commons of
England. Sergeant, remove the prisoner."

The king on this turned suddenly round towards the people. "Bear in
mind," he said, "that the king of England has been condemned without
being permitted to state his reasons in support of the people's
liberty." These words were followed by an almost general cry of God save
the king. * * *

On the 27th at noon, after two hours conference in the painted chamber,
the court opened, as usual, by calling a list of the names. At the name
of Fairfax, a woman's voice from the bottom of the gallery was heard to
exclaim: "He has too much sense to be here." After some moments'
surprise and hesitation, the names were called over, and sixty-seven
members were present. When the king entered the hall, there was a
violent outcry: "Execution! justice! execution!" The soldiers became
very insolent; some officers, in particular Axtell, commander of the
guards, excited them to this uproar; and groups spread about through the
hall, as busily seconded them. The people, struck with consternation,
were silent. "Sir!" said the king, addressing Bradshaw before he sat
down, "I demand to speak a word; I hope that I shall give you no cause
to interrupt me."

_Bradshaw._ "You will be heard in your turn. Listen first to the court."

_The King._ "Sir, if you please, I wish to be heard. It is only a
word. An immediate decision."

_Bradshaw._ "Sir, you shall be heard at the proper time:--first,
you must listen to the court."

_The King._ "Sir, I desire,--what I have to say applies to what the
court is, I believe, about to pronounce; and it is difficult, sir, to
recall a precipitate verdict."

_Bradshaw._ "We shall hear you, sir, before judgment is pronounced.
Until then you ought to abstain from speaking."

Upon this assurance the king became more calm; he sat down, and Bradshaw
proceeded:

"Gentlemen--it is well known that the prisoner at your bar has now been
many times brought before this court to reply to a charge of treason,
and other high crimes, exhibited against him in the name of the English
people"----

"Not half the people," exclaimed the same voice that had spoken on
hearing the name of Fairfax, "where is the people?--where is its
consent?--Oliver Cromwell is a traitor."

The whole assembly seemed electrified!--all eyes turned towards the
gallery: "Down with the w----s," cried Axtell; "soldiers fire upon
them!"--It was lady Fairfax. A general confusion now arose; the
soldiers, though everywhere fierce and active, could with difficulty
repress it. Order being at length a little restored, Bradshaw again
insisted upon the king's obstinate refusal to reply to the charge; upon
the notoriety of the crimes imputed to him, and declared that the court,
though unanimous in its sentence, had nevertheless consented to hear the
prisoner's defence, provided that he would cease to question its
jurisdiction.

"I demand," said the king, "to be heard in the painted chamber, by both
Lords and Commons, upon a proposition which concerns the peace of the
kingdom and the liberty of my subjects much more nearly than my own
preservation."

A violent tumult now spread throughout the court, and the whole
assembly. Friends and enemies were all eager to divine for what purpose
the king had demanded this conference with the two houses, and what it
was his intention to propose to them.

Colonel Downs, a member of the court, expressed a wish that the king's
proposition should be heard.

"Since one of the members desires it," said Bradshaw, gravely, "the
court must retire;" and they immediately passed into a neighbouring
hall. * * *

In about half an hour the court returned, and Bradshaw informed the king
that his proposition was rejected.

Charles appeared to be subdued, and no longer insisted with any degree
of vigour.

"If you have nothing to add," said Bradshaw, "the court will proceed to
give sentence."

"I shall add nothing, sir," said the king; "and only request that what I
have said may be recorded." Without replying to this, Bradshaw informed
him that he was about to hear his sentence; but before he ordered it to
be read, he addressed to the king a long discourse, as a solemn apology
for the proceedings of parliament, enumerating all the evil deeds of the
king, and imputing to him alone all the misfortunes of the civil war,
since it was his tyranny that had made resistance as much a matter of
duty as of necessity. The orator's language was harsh and bitter, but
grave, pious, free from insult, and stamped with profound conviction,
though with a slight mixture of vindictive feeling. The king heard him
without offering any interruption, and with equal gravity. In
proportion, however, as the discourse drew towards a close, he became
visibly troubled; and as soon as Bradshaw was silent, he endeavoured to
speak: Bradshaw prevented him, and commanded the clerk to read the
sentence; this being done, he said, "This is the act, opinion, and
unanimous judgment of the court," and the whole court rose up in token
of assent: "Sir," said the king, abruptly, "will you hear one word?"

_Bradshaw._ "Sir, you cannot be heard after sentence has been
passed."

_The King._ "No, sir!"

_Bradshaw_. "No, sir, with your permission, sir. Guards, remove the
prisoner."

_The King_. "I can speak after sentence.--With your permission,
sir, I have still a right to speak after sentence.--With your
permission--Stay--The sentence, sir--I say, sir, that--I am not
permitted to speak--think what justice others are to expect!"

At this moment he was surrounded by soldiers, and removed from the bar.

_From the French of M. Guizot_.

       *       *       *       *       *




THE SELECTOR;

AND

LITERARY NOTICES OF

_NEW WORKS_.

       *       *       *       *       *


GALLANTRY.


In Spain, after a lady had obliged her gallant by all possible
civilities and compliance, to confirm her kindness she would show him
her foot, and this they called the highest favour. The feet and legs of
queens were so sacred, that it was a crime to think, or at any rate to
speak of them. On the arrival of the Princess Maria Anna of Austria, the
bride of Philip IV. in Spain, a quantity of the finest silk stockings
were presented to her in a city where there were manufactories of that
article. The major domo of the future queen threw back the stockings
with indignation, exclaiming, "Know that the queens of Spain have no
legs." When the young bride heard this, she began to weep bitterly,
declaring she would return to Vienna, and that she would never have set
foot in Spain had she known that her legs were to be cut off. This
ridiculous etiquette was on one occasion carried still further; one day
as the second consort of Charles II. was riding a very spirited horse,
the animal reared on his hinder legs. At the moment when the horse
seemed on the point of falling back with his fair rider, the queen
slipped off on one side, and remained with one of her feet hanging in
the stirrup. The unruly beast, irritated still more at the burden which
fell on one side, kicked with the utmost violence in all directions. In
the first moments of danger and alarm, no person durst venture to the
assistance of the queen for this reason, that excepting the king and the
chief of the menimos, or little pages, no person of the male sex was
allowed to touch any part of the queens of Spain, and least of all their
feet. As the danger of the queen augmented, two cavaliers ran to her
relief. One of them seized the bridle of the horse, while the other drew
the queen's foot from the stirrup, and in performing this service
dislocated his thumb. As soon as they had saved her life they hastened
away with all possible expedition, ordered their fleetest horses to be
saddled, and were just preparing for their flight out of the kingdom,
when a messenger came to inform them that at the queen's intercession,
the king had pardoned the crime they had committed in touching her
person.--_Meiner's History of the Female Sex._

       *        *        *        *        *


ADVANTAGES OF POLITICAL ECONOMY.


In the year 1825, Henry Drummond, Esq. of Albury Park, Surrey, and
formerly of Christchurch, subjected his estate in Surrey with a yearly
rent-charge of 100_l._ for the endowment of a professorship in
Political Economy, under certain conditions. Mr. Senior, whose name is
not unknown to students of political economy, has been appointed first
professor, and in his first lecture gives the following illustration of
the advantages of the science:--

If we compare the present situation of the people of England with that
of their predecessors at the time of Cæsar's invasion; if we contrast
the warm and dry cottage of the present labourer, its chimney and glass
windows, (luxuries not enjoyed by Cæsar himself,) the linen and
woollen clothing of himself and his family, the steel, and glass, and
earthenware with which his table is furnished, the Asiatic and American
ingredients of his food, and above all, his safety from personal injury,
and his calm security that to-morrow will bring with it the comforts
that have been enjoyed to-day; if, I repeat, we contrast all these
sources of enjoyment with the dark and smoky burrows of the Brigantes or
the Cantii, their clothing of skins, their food confined to milk and
flesh, and their constant exposure to famine and to violence, we shall
be inclined to think those who are lowest in modern society richer than
the chiefs of their rude predecessors. And if we consider that the same
space of ground which afforded an uncertain subsistence to a hundred, or
probably fewer, savages, now supports with ease more than a thousand
labourers, and, perhaps, a hundred individuals beside, each consuming
more commodities than the labour of a whole tribe of Ancient Britons
could have produced or purchased, we may at first be led to doubt
whether our ancestors enjoyed the same natural advantages as ourselves;
whether their sun was as warm, their soil as fertile, or their bodies as
strong, as our own.

But let us substitute distance of space for distance of time; and,
instead of comparing situations of the same country at different
periods, compare different countries at the same period, and we shall
find a still more striking discrepancy. The inhabitant of South America
enjoys a soil and a climate, not superior merely to our own, but
combining all the advantages of every climate and soil possessed by the
remainder of the world. His valleys have all the exuberance of the
tropics, and his mountain-plains unite the temperature of Europe to a
fertility of which Europe offers no example. Nature collects for him,
within the space of a morning's walk, the fruits and vegetables which
she has elsewhere separated by thousands of miles. She has given him
inexhaustible forests, has covered his plains with wild cattle and
horses, filled his mountains with mineral treasures, and intersected all
the eastern face of his country with rivers, to which our Rhine and
Danube are merely brooks. But the possessor of these riches is poor and
miserable. With all the materials of clothing offered to him almost
spontaneously, he is ill-clad; with the most productive of soils, he is
ill-fed: though we are told that the labour of a week will there procure
subsistence for a year, famines are of frequent occurrence; the hut of
the Indian, and the residence of the landed proprietor, are alike
destitute of furniture and convenience; and South America, helpless and
indigent with all her natural advantages, seems to rely for support and
improvement on a very small portion of the surplus wealth of England.

It is impossible to consider these phenomena without feeling anxious to
account for them; to discover whether they are occasioned by
circumstances unsusceptible of investigation or regulation, or by causes
which can be ascertained, and may be within human control. To us, as
Englishmen, it is of still deeper interest to inquire whether the causes
of our superiority are still in operation, and whether their force is
capable of being increased or diminished; whether England has run her
full career of wealth and improvement, but stands safe where she is; or,
whether to remain stationary is impossible, and it depends on her
institutions and her habits, on her government, and on her people,
whether she shall recede or continue to advance.

The answer to all these questions must be sought in the science which
teaches in what wealth consists, by what agents it is produced, and
according to what laws it is distributed, and what are the institutions
and customs by which production may be facilitated, and distribution
regulated, so as to give the largest possible amount of wealth to each
individual. And this science is _Political Economy.--Senior's Lecture
on Political Economy._

       *       *       *       *       *


PROLONGING LIFE.


The notion of prolonging life by inhaling the breath of young women, was
an agreeable delusion easily credited: and one physician who had himself
written on health, was so influenced by it, that he actually took
lodgings in a boarding-school, that he might never be without a constant
supply of the proper atmosphere. Philip Thicknesse, who wrote the
"Valetudinarian's Guide," in 1779, seems to have taken a dose whenever
he could. "I am myself," says he, "turned of sixty, and in general,
though I have lived in various climates, and suffered severely both in
body and mind; yet having always partaken of the breath _of young
women, whenever they lay in the way_, I feel none of the infirmities
which so often strike the eyes and ears in this great city (Bath) of
sickness, by men many years younger than myself."

_Wadd's Memoirs._

       *       *       *       *       *


FELLOW FEELING.


It is told of a certain worthy and wealthy citizen, who has acquired
the reputation of being a considerable consumer of the good things of
the table, and has been "widened at the expense of the corporation,"
that on coming out of a tavern, after a turtle feast, a poor boy
begged charity of him--"For mercy's sake, sir, I am so very hungry!"
"Hungry!--hungry!--hey!--what!--complain of being hungry!--why I never
heard the like!--complain of being hungry!!--Prodigious!!!--why I'd give
a guinea to be hungry!!!--why, a hungry man (with a good dinner before
him) is the happiest fellow in the world!--There, (giving the boy
half-a-crown,) there, I don't want you to take my word for it: run
along, my fine fellow, and make the experiment yourself."--_Dr.
Kitchener._

       *       *       *       *       *




ARCANA OF SCIENCE,

OR REMARKABLE FACTS AND DISCOVERIES IN NATURAL HISTORY, METEOROLOGY,
CHEMISTRY, MINERALOGY, GEOLOGY, BOTANY, ZOOLOGY, PRACTICAL MECHANICS,
STATISTICS, AND THE USEFUL ARTS.

       *       *       *       *       *

  [Under this head it is proposed, in the future numbers of the MIRROR, to
  assemble all new and remarkable facts in the several branches of science
  enumerated above. These selections will be made from the Philosophical
  Journals of the day, the Transactions of Public Societies, and the
  various Continental Journals. The advantages of such a division in
  accordance with the high and enlightened character of the present age,
  must be obvious to every reader of our miscellany. At the same time it
  will be our object to _concentrate_ or _condense_ from all
  other authentic sources such new facts in science as are connected with
  the arts of social life, and which from being scattered through
  elaborate and expensive works, might thereby be lost to some portion of
  our readers. In short, _popular_ discoveries in science, or all
  such new facts as bear on the happiness of society will be the objects
  of our choice; neither perplexing our readers with abstract research,
  nor verging into the puerile amusements of a certain ingenious but
  almost useless class of reasoners; it not being our object to "ring the
  changes" on words. Our selections will occasionally be illustrated with
  engravings; for by no means are philosophical subjects better elucidated
  than by the aid of the graphic art.]


_Longevity_.

The relative advantages of town and country, in point of salubrity, are
shown by the following table of deaths:--

1. In _great towns_, from 1-19 or 1-20, to 1-23 or 1-24.

2. In _moderate towns_, from 1-25 to 1-28.

3. In _small villages_ and the _open country_, from 1-35 or
1-40, to 1-50 or 1-60.

Thus, in London one person in 20 of the whole population dies annually;
while in the healthiest villages and open country, the rate of annual
mortality is not more than 1 in 55 or 60.


_Atmosphere of Theatres_.

Lavoisier, the French chemist, found, in a theatre, that, from the
commencement to the end of the play, the oxygen, or vital air, was
diminished in the proportion of from 27 to 21, or nearly one-fourth, and
was in the same proportion less fit for respiration than before.


_Butterflies_.

In June, 1826, a column of butterflies, from 10 to 15 feet broad, was
seen to pass over Neuchatel, in Switzerland. The passage lasted upwards
of two hours, without any interruption, from the moment when the
butterflies were first observed.--_Brewster's Journal_.


_Water Plant_.

A shrub has been discovered in our new Indian countries, from whose
stem, when divided, there issues a copious vegetable spring of limpid
and wholesome water. The natives know this well, and hence we rarely
meet with an entire plant. It is a powerful climber, and is quite new
and nondescript.--_Letter from India_.


_Malaria and Fevers_.

It is notorious, that, in the last autumn, the remittent fevers in
various parts of the country amounted to a species of pestilence, such
as has scarcely been known in England from this cause since the days of
Dr. Sydenham. Wherever ague had existed, or ever had been supposed
possible, in those places was this fever found; so that in all the
well-known tracts in Lincolnshire, Norfolk, Suffolk, Kent, Essex,
Sussex, Hampshire, &c. there was scarcely a house without one or more
inhabitants under fever, with a considerable mortality. In the parish of
Marston, in Lincolnshire, it amounted to 25 in 300 inhabitants. The same
fevers were extremely abundant in various parts of the outskirts of
London, as also in the villages or towns which are connected with it,
within a range of from six to ten miles. This was the case throughout
the range of streets or houses from Buckingham Gate to Chelsea; in which
long line, it is said, that almost every house had a patient or more
under this fever, though these were mistaken for typhus, or at least
thus misnamed. Then it was also about Vauxhall and Lambeth; and to a
great extent among all that scattered mixture of town and country which
follows from Whitechapel, from Bishopsgate, &c., and very particularly
along Ratcliffe-Highway to an indefinite range along the river. In
Lewisham there were in one house nine patients under this fever, which
proved mortal to one. We may also enumerate Dulwich, especially subject
to this disorder, Fulham, Ealing, and the several other villages along
the Thames, as far as Chertsey; and even Richmond, where, as at
Lewisham, there was one house where ten individuals at one time were
suffering under this disease. Whatever was the pestilence last year, it
promises to be much greater in the present one. This is easily judged
from the manner in which the season has set in, but still more decidedly
from the extraordinary prevalence of ague in the spring; since that
which was intermittent fever then, will be remittent in the autumn, or
rather, there will scarcely be a definite season of vernal intermittent,
but the remittent will commence immediately, increasing in extent and
severity as the summer advances, and promising to become, in the autumn,
the greatest season of disease that England has known for this century.
Dr. Macculloch attributes this alarming increase to _malaria_, on
the production and propagation of which he has recently published an
essay, the leading argument of which is, "that as the quantity of the
poison which any person can inspire is necessarily small, and as this
small quantity can be produced by a small marshy spot as well as a large
one, it is the same, as to the production of the disease, whether the
marsh is a foot square or a mile, provided the exposure be complete;
while also any piece of ground where vegetables decompose under the
action of water is virtually a marsh, or must produce _malaria_."


_Acclimatizing Plants_.

A Mr. Street, of Biel, in East Lothian, has recently made some
successful attempts at acclimatizing, or giving to exotic plants greater
powers of withstanding cold than they had when first introduced. By
planting in situations well drained from superfluous moisture, under
circumstances where rapid growth was rendered impracticable, and in a
garden admirably adapted to the object from its position, he has
succeeded in naturalizing, in latitude 56° N. plants which have not yet
been known to endure the winters even of the parallel of
London.--_Quarterly Journal of Science_.

In a table kept at Sydney by Major Goulburn, from May 1821 to April
1822, the thermometer never rose above 751/2° and never lower than 54° of
Fahrenheit.


_Bronzing Tin_.

To obtain complete success in bronzing medals of tin, the two following
solutions must be employed:--

The first, which is merely a wash, is composed of 1 part of iron, 1 part
of sulphate of copper, and 20 parts, by weight, of distilled water. The
second solution, or bronze, is composed of 4 parts of verdigris and 16
parts of white vinegar. The medals should be filed, and well cleaned
with a brush, earth, and water; and being well wiped, should have a
portion of the first solution passed slightly over their faces, by means
of a brush, and then be wiped; this gives a slight grey tint to the
surface, and causes the ready adhesion of the verdigris, &c. The second
solution is then to be rubbed over by means of a brush, until they have
acquired the deep red colour of copper; they are then to be left an hour
to dry, after which they are to be polished with a very soft brush and
rouge, or the red oxide of iron in fine powder. The polish is to be
completed by the brush alone, the medals being passed now and then over
the palm of the hand.--_Verly_.


_Culture of Celery_.

Mr. Knight, president of the Horticultural Society, has found that by
keeping the ground in which celery was planted, constantly wet, it grew
by the middle of September to the height of five feet, and its quality
was in proportion to its size. Mr. K. also recommends planting at
greater distances than is usually the case, and covering the beds, into
which the young seedlings are first removed, with half-rotten dung,
overspread to the depth of about two inches with mould; under which
circumstances, whenever the plants are removed, the dung will adhere
tenaciously to their roots, and it will not be necessary to deprive the
plants of any part of their leaves.--Mr. Wedgewood also states, that
good celery may be readily obtained by transplanting seedling plants
that have remained in the seed bed, till they had acquired a
considerable size.--_Quarterly Journal_.


_Dwarfs_.

Richard Gibson, the dwarf, married Anne Shepherd, another dwarf. Each of
them was only 3 feet 10 inches high. They had nine children, of whom
five lived to maturity, and were of a proper size. Richard, the father,
lived to the age of 75, his little widow to that of 89. It is
presumptive, that the dwarf size is only occasioned by some obstruction
during _utero_--gestation. The full size of the children proves
that nature does not perpetuate abortions.


_Cruelty and Epicurism_.

A sharp axe, on the principle of a punch, is used in _slaughtering
bullocks_, not to kill them at once, but to cut a circular hole in
the skull, into which a stick is introduced _to stir up the
brains_, for the purpose of making the meat more tender! The throat
is not attempted to be cut till after the infliction of this torture,
horrible even to think of, which instantly causes the most convulsive
agonies, such as are never seen in death of any other kind.

Lord Somerville's mode of _pithing_ animals, brought forward with
the most humane views, is a _horrible operation_. The body is
deprived of sensation, _while the living head rolls its eye in agony
on its tormentors_.--_Sir Everard Home_.

       *       *       *       *       *




USEFUL DOMESTIC HINTS.

       *       *       *       *       *


APPLES.


The preservation of apples is now brought to great perfection, by
keeping them in jars secure from the action of air; but there is one
method of preparing them for culinary purposes which is not practised in
this country. Any good baking sort, which is liable to rot, if peeled
and cut into slices about the thickness of one-sixth of an inch, and
dried in the sun, or in a slow oven, till sufficiently desiccated, may
be afterwards kept in boxes in a dry place for a considerable time, and
only require to be soaked in water for an hour or two before using.

At a recent meeting of the Horticultural Society, a large collection of
the best late varieties of the apple, as grown in America, were
exhibited. It was a remarkable circumstance, that, while these fruits
are unusually handsome, none of them, except the New-town pippin, were,
although sweet and pleasant, comparable to our fine European apples; and
yet the New-town pippin, the only good variety, is as much superior to
any variety of apple known in Europe as the others were inferior.

       *       *       *       *       *


BLACK DYE AND INK.


The following is a process for the preparation of a black dye, for which
a patent was taken out at Vienna by M. Honig:--Logwood is to be boiled
several times in water, and a little sub-carbonate of potash to be added
to the decoctions, the quantity being so moderated that it shall not
change the colour to blue; the stuff to be dyed is then to be plunged
into this bath. This stuff may be either animal or vegetable. When it is
well impregnated with colouring matter, it is to be withdrawn, and,
without being exposed to air, is to be introduced into a solution of
green-vitriol, and left there until it has obtained the desired black
hue. In preparing the _ink_, the decoction of logwood is used in
place of the infusion of galls.

       *       *       *       *       *


MALT LIQUORS.

_By a Physician_.


I am much disposed to extol the virtues of malt liquors. When properly
fermented, well hopped, and of a moderate strength, they are refreshing,
wholesome, and nourishing. It is a common observation, that those who
drink sound malt liquors are stronger than those who drink wine; and to
those who are trained to boxing, and other athletic exercises, old
home-brewed beer is particularly recommended, drawn from the cask, and
not bottled. Hence Jackson, the celebrated trainer, affirms, if any
person accustomed to drink wine would but try malt liquor for a month,
he would find himself so much the better for it, that he would soon take
to the one, and abandon the other. Some suppose the superior bottom of
the British soldiery to be owing, in a great measure, to their use of
malt liquor.

  "Your wine-tippling, dram-sipping fellows retreat,
  But your beer-drinking Britons can never be beat."

  DR. ARNE.


Good home-brewed beer has been styled by some _vinum Britannicum_,
and by others liquid bread. There can be no doubt of its highly
nutritive and wholesome qualities, and it is much to be regretted, that
so few families in this kingdom now ever brew their own beer, but are
content to put up with the half-fermented, adulterated wash found in
public-houses, or with the no less adulterated and impure drink called
porter.

Malt liquors are divided into small beer, strong beer, ale, and porter.
Small beer is best calculated for common use, being less heating and
stimulating than other malt liquors. When used soft and mild, after
having been thoroughly fermented and purified, it forms an excellent
diluent with food, more especially at dinner. Sydenham was in the habit
of using it in this manner, both at dinner and supper, and he justly
considered its being well hopped a great advantage. In general it is,
without doubt, the best drink which can be taken at dinner, by persons
in the middle and higher ranks of society, who are in the habit of
drinking wine after that meal. As it abounds with carbonic acid gas, or
fixed air, it is the most useful diluent for labourers, because it cools
the body, abates thirst, and, at the same time, stimulates very
moderately the animal powers. Small beer, when stale and hard, is
unwholesome to all persons.

Sound strong beer is very nutritious and wholesome; indeed, it is
generally considered more nourishing than wine. It is a most useful
drink to the weak, the lean, and the laborious, provided they are not
very subject to flatulency, nor troubled with disorders of the breast.
If taken in moderate quantity, and of the best quality, it will often be
found of great service to the invalid, in assisting to restore his
strength, spirits, and flesh. It should be drunk from the cask; bottled
beer being more likely to disagree with the stomach, and to produce
flatulency.

There is a general prejudice against beer in the case of the bilious
and the sedentary, but it appears to me without sufficient foundation.
Bilious people are such as have weak stomachs and impaired digestion,
and those who are sedentary are nearly, in these respects, always in a
similar state. Now, I have not observed that beer tends to weaken such
stomachs, or to become ascescent, or otherwise to disagree with them; on
the contrary, I believe, it will be found, in the majority of cases,
that this beverage agrees much better than wine, since it is far less
disposed to acescency, and better fitted to act as a stomachic, and,
therefore, to invigorate both the digestive organs, and the constitution
at large. That it is very far superior for such persons to diluted
spirit, in any form, I am fully persuaded. Of course, I here speak of
sound home-brewed strong beer, and of a moderate strength. No man can
answer for the effects of the stuff usually sold as beer; and we know
strong ale is always difficult of digestion.

Strong ale is, undoubtedly, the most nutritive of all malt liquors, but
being digested with greater difficulty than the other sorts, it cannot
with propriety be taken but by those who are strong, and who use much
active exercise. The best ale is made from fine pale malt, and with hops
of the finest quality. It should sparkle in the glass, but the smaller
the bubbles the better. I ought to add, that in some cases of general
weakness, where the individual is certainly recovering, and is possessed
of a good measure of strength of stomach, a little of the finest ale
daily will be found highly restorative.

Porter, when good, is not an unwholesome drink; but it is very difficult
to procure it of the best quality. I cannot recommend it to those who
are desirous of preserving their health.--_Sure Methods of Improving
Health, &c._

       *       *       *       *       *




THE GATHERER.


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

       *       *       *       *       *


SAMBO'S SERMON,

(_From the New York Statesman._)


"Strate is de rode an narrer is de paff which leadeff to
glory."--"Brederen believers!--You semble dis nite to har de word, and
hab it splained and monstrated to you; yes, an I ten for splain it clear
as de lite ob de libin day. We're all wicked sinners har below--it's
fac, my brederen, and I tell you how it cum. You see, my frens,

  "Adam was de fus man,
  Ebe was de todder,
  Cane was a wicked man,
  Kase he kill he brodder.


"Adam and Ebe were bofe black men, and so was Cane and Able. Now I spose
it seem to strike you a understandin how de fus wite man cum. Why I let
you no. Den you see when Cane kill de brodder de Massa cum, and he say,
'Cane whar you a brodder Able?' Cane say, 'I don't know, Massa.' He cum
gin an say, 'Cane whar you a brodder Able?' Cane say, 'I don't know,
Massa;' but de nigger noe'd all de time. Massa now git mad--cum
gin--peak mity sharp dis time,--'Cane whar your brodder Able, you
nigger?' Cane now git friten, and he turn _wite_: and dis is de way
de fus wite man cum pon dis arth! an if it had not been for dat dare
nigger, Cane, we'd neba been troubled wid dese sassy wites pon de face
ob dis circumlar globe. Now sing de forty lebenth hym, ticular meter."

       *       *       *       *       *


EPIGRAM (FROM THE ITALIAN)


_On a Father who would not allow his Son to marry until he had arrived
at years of discretion_.

  Poor Strephon is young, and lacks wisdom 'tis said,
  And therefore still longer must tarry;
  If he waits tho', methinks, till he's sense in his head,
  I'll be sworn that he never will marry.

       *       *       *       *       *


THE REV. MR. WATERHOUSE.


The following is the inscription on a stone designed to perpetuate the
memory of the late singular and unfortunate rector of Little Stukely,
and is now exhibited in the mason's yard at Huntingdon. According to
immemorial usage a copy of verses is appended to the inscription, which,
in point of style, taste, and orthography, are on a par with the
"uncouth rhymes" alluded to by Gray. The _poetry_ is said to be the
production of a Cambridge graduate.

"Sacred to the memory of the Rev, Joshua Waterhouse, B.D., nearly forty
years Fellow of Catherine Hall, Cambridge, Chaplain to his Majesty,
Rector of this parish, and of Coton, near Cambridge, who was inhumanly
murdered _in this Parsonage House_, about ten o'clock on the
morning of July 3rd, 1827. Aged eighty-one.

  Beneath this tomb his mangled body's laid,
  Cut, stabb'd, and murdered by Joshua Slade;
  His ghastly wounds a horrid sight to see,
  And hurl'd at once into eternity.

  What faults you've seen in him take care to shun,
  And look at home, enough there's to be done;
  Death does not always warning give,
  Therefore be careful how you live."

       *       *       *       *       *


MAN.


Philosophers have puzzled themselves how to define man, so as to
distinguish him from other animals. Burke says, "Man is an animal that
cooks its victuals." "Then," says Johnson, "the proverb is just, 'there
is reason in roasting eggs.'" Dr. Adam Smith has hit this case; "Man,"
says he, "is an animal that makes bargains; no other animal does
this--one dog does not change a bone with another."--_London Mag_.

       *       *       *       *       *


LANGUAGES.


A French professor of languages, in what he calls an Ethnographic Atlas
of the Globe, states there are 860 languages, and about 5,000 dialects,
all which may be classed; in addition to as many more which are not so
arranged. In the present state of our knowledge, therefore, the Asiatic
languages amount to 153; the European to 53; the African to 114; the
Polynesian to 117; and the American to 423.

       *       *       *       *       *


_Epitaph in the Church-yard of Iselton Cum Fenby, in Lincolnshire_.


  Here lies the bodie of old Will Loveland,
  He's put to bed at length with a shovel, and
  Eas'd of expenses for raiment and food,
  Which all his life tyme he would fain have eseyewed:
  He grudg'd his housekeeping--his children's support,
  And laid in his meates of the cagge mag sorte,
  No fyshe or fowle touch'd he, when 'twas dearly bought,
  But a green taile or herrings, a score for a groate.
      No friend to the needy,
      His wealth gather'd speedy,
    And he never did naught but evil;
      He liv'd like a hogg,
      And dyed like a dogg,
    And now he rides post to the devil.

       *       *       *       *       *


LENDING BOOKS.


Doctor Gerhard, of Jena, used to write in his books a Latin inscription,
thus translated:--"I belong to Gerhard's library; take care neither to
soil nor tear me; neither keep me in your possession out of the library
more than one month. Do not steal me."

       *       *       *       *       *


TO THE PUBLIC.


_With the present Number of the_ Mirror _is published a_ SUPPLEMENTARY
SHEET, _half of which is occupied by_ THREE ENGRAVINGS, _viz. an
authorized Ground Plan of_ St. JAMES'S _and the_ GREEN PARKS--_a View
of_ BUCKINGHAM NEW PALACE, _and of the_ GRAND ENTRANCE _to the_ PALACE
GARDENS _at Hyde Park Corner. The Supplement also contains minute
references and descriptions of the above Engravings, and the_ REPORT _of
the_ EXPEDITIONS _of Captains Parry and Franklin, recently returned to
England. The daily increasing interest of the above subjects (which so
largely engross the public attention) cannot fail to render the above
Number proportionally acceptable to our readers; whilst the
illustrations will recommend themselves by the fidelity of the sources
from which they are executed_.

       *       *       *       *       *

_Printed and published by J. LIMBIRD, 143, Strand, (near Somerset
House,) and sold by all Newsmen and Booksellers_.

       *       *       *       *       *