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Title: The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction
       Volume 13, No. 356, Saturday, February 14, 1829

Author: Various

Release Date: May 30, 2004 [EBook #12477]

Language: English

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THE MIRROR OF LITERATURE, AMUSEMENT, AND INSTRUCTION.

       *       *       *       *       *

VOL. XIII, NO. 356.] SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 14, 1829. [PRICE 2d.

       *       *       *       *       *




Interior of the Colosseum.


[Illustration: Interior of the Colosseum.]


_References to the Engraving._

A. Column or Tower in the centre of the building, for supporting the
Ascending Room, &c.

B. Entrance to the Ascending-Room.

C. Saloon for the reception of works of art.

D. Passage lending to the Saloon, Galleries, and Ascending-Room.

E. F. Two separate Spiral Flights of Steps, leading to the Galleries, &c.

G. H. I. Galleries from which the Picture is to be viewed.

K. Refreshment-Room.

L. Rooms for Music or Bells.

M. The Old Ball from St. Paul's Cathedral.

N. Stairs leading to the outside of the Building. _a. b._ Sky-lights.
_c._ Plaster Dome, on which the sky is painted, _d._ Canvass on which
the part of the picture up to the horizon is painted. _e._ Gallery,
suspended by ropes, used for painting the distance, and uniting the
plaster and the canvas. _f._ Temporary Bridge from the Gallery G to
the Gallery _e._ from the end of which the echo of the building might
be heard to the greatest advantage. _g._ One of Fifteen Triangular
Platforms, used for painting the sky. _h._ Platforms fixed on the
ropes of the Gallery _e_, used for finishing and clouding the sky.
_k._ Different methods for getting at the lower parts of the canvas.
_l._ Baskets for conveying colours. &c. to the artists, _m._ Cross or
Shears, formed of two poles, from which a cradle or box is suspended,
for finishing the picture after the removal of all the scaffolding
and ropes.


Mr. Hornor, in his colossal undertaking, has "devised a mean" to draw us
out of the way; and a successful one it has already proved. As a return
for the interest which his enterprise has excited, we are, however,
induced to present its details to our readers, as perfect as the limits
of the MIRROR will allow; and for this purpose we have been favoured by
Mr. Parris with the drawing for the annexed cut.

In No. 352, we gave a popular description of the interior of the
Colosseum; but the reader's attention was therein directed to the
splendid effect of the panorama or picture, whilst the means by which
the painting was executed have been reserved for our present Number.
This we have endeavoured to illustrate by the annexed engraving; and
the explanation will be rendered still clearer by reference to No. 352,
wherein we have given an outline of the difficulties with which the
principal artist, Mr. Parris, had to contend in painting the panorama.
We, however, omitted to state an obstacle equally formidable with the
_reconciliation_ of the styles of the several artists engaged to
assist Mr. Parris. This additional source of perplexity was the great
change, almost amounting to the vitrification of enamel colours, which
occurred in the hues of the various pigments, according to the point of
view, and the immense distance of the canvas from the spectator.

Besides furnishing the reader with the construction of the apartments,
galleries, and ascents of the interior, the engraving presents some idea
of the scaffoldings, bridges, platforms, and other mechanical
contrivances requisite for the execution of the picture.

The spiral staircase, it will be seen, leads to the lower gallery for
viewing the picture. Unconnected with the intermediate gallery, there is
a communication from the lowest gallery to the highest, and thence to
the refreshment-rooms and exterior of the dome. The ascent to the second
price gallery is by a spiral staircase under those already mentioned.
The column, or central erection, containing these staircases and
the ascending-room, is of timber, with twelve principal uprights
seventy-three feet high, one foot square, set upon a circular curb of
brickwork, hooped with iron, and further secured by bracing, and by
two other circular curbs, from the upper one of which rises a cone of
timbers thirty-four feet high, supporting the refreshment-rooms, the
identical ball, and model of the cross, of St. Paul's, Mr. Hornor's
sketching cabin, staircase to the exterior, &c. Without the circle of
timbers already described, is another of twenty-four upright timbers;
and between these two circles the staircases wind. The architectural
fronts of the galleries form frame-works, through which the spectator
may enjoy various parts of the panorama, as in so many distinct
pictures.

The cut and appended references will explain the devices for painting
better than a more extended description; for mere words do not
facilitate the understanding of inventions which in themselves are
beautiful and simple. To heighten the effect, our artist has, however,
introduced light sketchy outlines of the campanile towers of St. Paul's,
the city, and the distant country. Mr. Parris's task must have been one
of extreme peril, and notwithstanding his ingenious contrivances of
galleries, bridges, platforms, &c. he fell twice from a considerable
height; but in neither case was he seriously hurt. His progress reminds
us of other grand flights to fame, but his success has been triumphant,
and alike honourable to his genius and enterprise. In short, looking
at the present advanced state of the Colosseum, Mr. Hornor and his
indefatigable coadjutors may almost exclaim in the words of Dryden,

  "Our toils, my friend, are crown'd with sure success:
  The greater part perform'd, achieve the less."

       *       *       *       *       *


DORCHESTER.

(_For the Mirror._)


St. Peter's church, Dorchester, is a handsome structure. There is a
traditional rhyme about it which imports the founder of this church
to have been Geoffery Van.

  "Geoffery Van
   With his wife Anne
   And his maid Nan
   Built this church."


But there was long since dug up in a garden here a large seal, with
indisputable marks of antiquity, and this inscription:--"Sigillum
Galfridi de Ann." It is therefore supposed, with some reason, that
the founder's name was Ann.

A great number and variety of Roman coins have been dug up in this town,
some of silver, others of copper, called by the common people, King
Dorn's Pence; for they have a notion that one king Dorn was the founder
of Dorchester.

HALBERT H.

       *       *       *       *       *


FIRE AT YORK CATHEDRAL.

(_For the Mirror._)


  Ut Rosa flos florum
  Sic est domus ista domorum.


Such was the encomium bestowed on the venerable pile of York Minster by
an old monkish writer; but, alas! what a change is there in the space
of a few short hours; what a scene of desolation, what a lesson of the
instability of sublunary things and the vanity of human grandeur! The
glory of the city of York, of England, yea, almost of Europe, is now,
through the fanaticism of a modern Erostratus, rendered comparatively
a pile of ruin; but still

  "Looks great in ruin, noble in decay."


This is the third time that this magnificent structure has been assailed
by fire; twice it has been totally destroyed; but, like another phoenix,
it has again risen from its ashes in a greater degree of splendour. A
period of nearly seven hundred years has now elapsed since the last of
these occurrences; and the present fabric has but now narrowly escaped
sharing the fate of its predecessors.

The damage which the Minster has sustained is not, perhaps, of
so great a magnitude as, from the first appearance of the fire, might
have been anticipated. The destruction is principally confined to the
_choir_, the roof of which is entirely consumed. The beautiful and
elaborately carved _screen_,[1] which divides the choir from the
nave, and forms a support for the organ-loft, has escaped in a most
wonderful manner, a few of the more projecting ornaments being merely
detached. The organ, an instrument scarcely equalled in tone by any
other in Europe, is totally destroyed. The oaken stalls,[2] together
with their richly carved canopies, have likewise perished. The altar
table, which stood at the eastern end of the choir, on a raised
pavement, ascended by a flight of fifteen steps, is likewise consumed,
and the communion plate melted. The beautiful stone screen, which
separated the Lady's Chapel from the altar, has not suffered so
materially as was at first imagined. This elegant specimen of ancient
sculpture is divided into eight pointed arches, and elaborately
ornamented with tracery work: the lights were filled with plate glass,
through which a fine view of the great eastern window was obtained;
some pieces of which still remain uninjured.

Such are the principal parts of the cathedral which have suffered. The
books, cushions, and other movable effects, from the northern side of
the choir, were fortunately rescued, together with the brazen eagle,
from which the prayers were read. The wills, and other valuable
documents, were also preserved.

The choir, the destruction of which we have just related, was built by
John de Thoresby, a prelate, raised to the archiepiscopal chair in 1532.
On this building he expended the then enormous sum of one thousand eight
hundred and ten pounds out of his own private purse. The first stone
was laid on the 29th of July, 1361; but the founder died before its
completion, as is evident from the arms of several of his successors in
various parts of the building, particularly those of Scrope and Bowet,
the latter of whom was not created archbishop until the year 1405. It
was constructed in a more florid style of architecture than the rest of
the fabric. The roof, higher by some feet than that of the nave, was
more richly ornamented, an elegant kind of festoon work descending from
the capitals of the pillars, which separated the middle from the side
aisles; from these columns sprung the vaulted roof, the ribs of which
crossed each other in angular compartments. The magnificent window, the
admiration of all beholders, occupies nearly the whole space of the
eastern end of the choir; it is divided by two large mullions into
three principal divisions, which are again subdivided into three lights;
the upper part from the springing of the arches are also separated
into various compartments. It contains nearly two hundred subjects,
principally scriptural. The painting of this window was executed about
the year 1405, at the expense of the dean and chapter, by John Thornton,
a glazier, of Coventry, who, by his contract, was engaged to finish it
within three years, and to receive four shillings per week for his
work; he was also to have one hundred shillings besides; and also ten
pounds more if he did his work well.[3] On the exterior of the choir,
immediately over the window, is the effigy of John de Thoresby, mitred
and robed, and sitting in his archiepiscopal chair, his right hand
pointing to the window, and in his left holding the model of a church.
At the base of the window are the heads of Christ and the Apostles,
with that of some sovereign, supposed to be Edward III.

We will now bring this article to a close, by quoting the words of Æneas
Sylvius, afterwards Pope Pius II., in praise of York Cathedral. He says,
"It is famous all over the world for its magnificence and workmanship,
but especially for a fine lightsome chapel, with shining walls, and
small, thin-waisted pillars, quite round."[4]

S.I.B.


    [1] This elegant and curious piece of workmanship, the history of
        which is involved in uncertainty, bears the marks of an age
        subsequent to that of the choir, and was probably erected in
        the reign of Henry VI. It is in the most finished style of the
        florid Gothic, containing niches, canopies, pediments, and
        pinnacles, and decorated with the statues of all the sovereigns
        of England, from the Norman Conquest to Henry V. The statue of
        James I. stands in the niche which tradition assigns as that
        formerly occupied by the one of Henry VI.

    [2] These stalls or seats which were formed of oak, and of the most
        elaborate workmanship, occupied the side, and western end of the
        choir: they were surmounted by canopies, supported by slender
        pillars, rising from the arms, each being furnished with a
        movable misericordia.

    [3] Vide Drake's Eboracum, p. 527.

    [4] We thank our intelligent antiquarian correspondent for this
        article, which, he will perceive appears somewhat, abridged,
        as we are unable to spare room for further details.

       *       *       *       *       *



THE VINE.

FROM THE GERMAN OF HERDER.

(_For the Mirror._)


On the day of their creation, the trees boasted one to another, of their
excellence. "Me, the Lord planted!" said the lofty cedar;--"strength,
fragrance, and longevity, he bestowed on me."

"Jehovah fashioned me to be a blessing," said the shadowy palm;
"utility and beauty he united in my form." The apple-tree, said, "Like
a bridegroom among youths, I glow in my beauty amidst the trees of the
grove!" The myrtle, said, "Like the rose among briars, so am I amidst
the other shrubs." Thus all boasted;--the olive and the fig-tree--and
even the fir.

The vine, alone, drooped silent to the ground! "To me," thought he,
"every thing seems to have been refused;--I have neither stem--nor
branches--nor flowers,--but such as _I am_, I will hope and wait."
The vine bent down its shoots, and wept!

Not long had the vine to wait; for, behold, the divinity of earth, man,
drew nigh; he saw the feeble, helpless, plant trailing its honours along
the soil:--in pity, he lifted up the recumbent shoots, and twined the
feeble plant around his own bower.

Now the winds played with its leaves and tendrils; and the warmth of the
sun began to empurple its hard green grapes, and to prepare within them
a sweet and delicious juice.

Decked with its rich clusters, the vine leaned towards its master, who
tasted its refreshing fruit and juicy beverage; and he named the vine,
his friend and favourite.

Despair not, ye forsaken; bear--be patient,--and strive.

From the insignificant reed flows the sweetest of juices;--from the
bending vine springs the most delightful drink of the earth.

       *       *       *       *       *




THE SKETCH-BOOK.

THE BATTLE OF NAVARINO.--BY AN OFFICER ENGAGED.

(_Abridged from No. 2, of the United Service Journal._)


We had been cruizing off the coast of the Morea, for the protection of
trading vessels, and to watch the motions of the numerous Greek pirates
infesting the narrow seas and adjacent islands. For fourteen months we
had been thus actively employed, when the arrival of the Albion and
Genoa, from Lisbon, hinted to us, that some coercive measures were
about to be used against the Turks, to cause them to discontinue the
exterminating war they carried on against the Greeks, and to evacuate
the country pursuant to the terms of the treaty of July, 1827. The
prospect of a collision with the Turkish fleet appeared to be very
agreeable to the ship's crew, as they had got a little tired of their
long confinement on board, and anxiously looked for a speedy return to
Malta to get ashore, which they had not been able to do for upwards of a
year. We again proceeded on our protecting duty, and parted company with
the admiral in the Asia. In about six weeks we returned, and found that
many other British vessels had joined the Asia, whilst the squadrons of
France and Russia added to the number of the fleet, which altogether
presented an imposing attitude.

The Turkish and Egyptian fleets had arrived from the unsuccessful
attempt in the Gulf of Patras some time before, and lay off the Bay of
Navarino, before they finally entered and took up a position within
the harbour. While the Ottoman fleet lay off the bay, the Turkish
troops were said to have committed many unjustifiable outrages on the
defenceless inhabitants of the country adjacent to Navarino; information
of these oppressive acts was conveyed to the British admiral, and, it
is believed, formed the grounds of a strong remonstrance on his part,
addressed to the Turkish commanders, which hastened the collision
between the two armaments. These facts were generally known throughout
the fleet, and a "_row_" was eagerly expected.

About the beginning of October we had returned from our cruize; the men,
ever since we had been in commission, had been daily exercised at the
guns, and, by firing at marks, they had much improved in their practice.

Before entering the bay, the Ottoman fleet lay at the distance of ten or
twelve miles from the Allies. They appeared numerous, with many small
craft. Most of them bore the crimson flag flying at their peak, and on
coming closer, a crescent and sword were visible on the flags. Their
ships looked well, and in tolerable order: the Egyptians were evidently
superior to the Turks.

Little communication took place between the Allied and Turkish fleets.
The Dartmouth had gone into the bay twice, bearing the terms proposed by
the allied commanders to Ibrahim Pacha. No satisfactory answer had been
returned by the Ottoman admiral, whose conduct appeared evasive and
trifling, implying a contempt for our prowess, and daring us to do our
worst.

The Dartmouth having proceeded for the last time into the bay, with the
final requisitions, and having brought back no satisfactory reply, on
Saturday, the 20th of October, 1827, about noon, Admiral Codrington,
favoured by a gentle sea-breeze, bore up under all sail for the mouth
of the Bay of Navarino. A buzz ran instantly through the ship at the
welcome intelligence of the admiral's bearing up; and I could easily
perceive the hilarity and exultation of the seamen, and their impatience
for the contest.

Our ship's crew was chiefly composed of young men, who had never seen a
shot fired; yet, to judge from their manner, one would have thought them
familiar with the business of fighting. The decks were then cleared for
action, and the ship was quite ready, as we neared the mouth of the bay.

The Asia led the fleet, and was the first to enter the bay, followed by
the ships in two columns. This was about one o'clock, or rather later.
Abreast of Sir Edward Codrington was the French admiral, distinguished
by the large white flag at the mizen. Then came the Genoa and Albion,
followed by the Dartmouth, Talbot, and brigs, along with the French and
Russian squadrons, in more distant succession. Every sail was set, so
that the vast crowd of canvass, that looked more bleached and glittering
in the rays of the sun, and contrasted with the deep blue unclouded sky,
presented a magnificent and spirit-stirring spectacle. The breeze was
just powerful enough to carry the allied fleet forward at a gentle rate,
and as the wind freshened a little at times, it had the effect of
causing the ships to heel to one side in a graceful, undulating
manner,--the various flags and pendants of the united nations puffing
out occasionally from the mast-heads. The sea was smooth, the weather
rather warm, and the air quite clear. As we neared the entrance of the
bay, the land presented all around a rugged, steep appearance towards
the sea. In the distance, the mountains were visible, of a light blue,
with whitish clouds apparently resting on their summits. The town and
castle of Navarino presented a bright, picturesque look, and some spots
of cultivation were to be seen. In the interior there rose in the air
what looked like the smoke of some conflagration, and such we all
believed was the case, as the Turkish soldiery had been employed in
ravaging the country, and carrying away the inhabitants. An encampment
of tents lay near, close to the castle, and large bodies of soldiers
were easily discernible crowding on the batteries as we approached. We
were about five hundred yards distant from the castle. The breadth of
the entrance was about a mile.

When the Asia had arrived abreast of this castle, a boat rowed from the
shore, and came alongside of the Asia with a request from Ibraham Pacha,
that the allied fleets would not enter the bay; and just about that
time, an unshotted gun was fired from the castle, which we interpreted
as a signal for the Ottoman fleet to prepare for action. Close to the
mouth of the bay, the cluster of vessels was considerable, all bearing
up under a press of sail, and in perfect order. Our ship was close on
the Asia's quarter. No opposition was made to our progress by the
batteries of Navarino, which was a matter of surprise to all, as the men
were ready at their quarters in momentary expectation of being attacked.
To the spectators on the battlements our fleet must have presented a
beautiful, though a formidable, appearance.

As soon as we had cleared the mouth of the bay, the Turko-Egyptian
fleet was seen ranged round from right to left, in the form of an
extensive crescent, in two lines, each ship with springs on her cables.
Thus the combined fleets were in the centre of the lion's den, and
the lists might be said to have been closed. The Asia, on passing the
mouth of Navarino, sailed onwards to where the Turkish and Egyptian
line-of-battle ships lay at anchor about three-quarters of a mile
farther up the bay, and anchored close abreast one of their largest
ships, bearing the flag of the Capitan Bey. The Genoa took her station
near the Asia, whilst the Albion followed; but the Turks being so
closely wedged together, she could not find space to pass between them
to her appointed berth. The ship of the Egyptian Admiral lay as close to
the Asia as that of the Capitan Bey: a large double-banked frigate was
also near: all these three ships being moored in front of the crescent
close upon the Asia and the Genoa. The wind by this time had almost
died away, consequently the Albion had to anchor close alongside the
double-banked frigate. This failing of the wind retarded considerably
the progress of the ships, which had not yet entered the bay,
particularly the Russian ships, and several of ours, which came later
into action, and had to encounter the firing of the artillery of the
castle.

The Egyptian fleet lay to the south-east; and, as it was well known that
several French officers were serving on board, the French Admiral was
appointed to place his squadron abreast of them. It appears, however,
that, with one exception, all these Frenchmen quitted the Egyptian
fleet, and went on board an Austrian transport which lay off the coast.

The post assigned to the Cambrian, Talbot, and Glasgow, along with the
French frigate Armide, was alongside of the Turkish frigates at the
left of the crescent on entering into the bay; whilst the Dartmouth,
Musquito, the Rose, and Philomel, were ordered to keep a sharp look-out
on the several fireships lurking suspiciously at the extremities of the
crescent, and apparently ripe for mischief.

It was strictly enjoined in the orders, that no gun was to be fired,
without a signal to that effect made by the Admiral, unless it should be
in return for shots fired at us by the Turkish fleet. Each ship was to
anchor with springs on her cables, if time allowed; and the orders
concluded with the memorable words of Nelson,--"No captain can do
very wrong who places his ship alongside of any enemy."

It was about two o'clock when we arrived at our station on the left of
the bay, and anchored. The men were immediately sent aloft to furl the
sails, which operation lasted a few minutes. Whilst so employed, the
Dartmouth, distant about half a mile from our ship, had sent a boat,
commanded by Lieut. Fitzroy, to request the fireship to remove from her
station; a fire of musketry ensued from the fireship into the boat,
killing the officer and several men. This brought on a return of
small-arms from the Dartmouth and Syrene. Capt. Davis, of the Rose,
having witnessed the firing of the Turkish vessel, went in one of his
boats to assist that of the Dartmouth; and the crew of these two boats
were in the act of climbing up the sides of the fireship, when she
instantly exploded with a tremendous concussion, blowing the men into
the water, and killing and disabling several in the boats close
alongside. Just about this time, and before the men had descended from
the yards, an Egyptian double-banked frigate poured a broadside into our
ship. The captain gave instant orders to fire away; and the broadside
was returned with terrible effect, every shot striking the hull of the
Egyptian frigate. The men were now hastily descending the shrouds, while
the captain sung out, "Now, my lads! down to the main-deck, and fire
away as fast as you can." The seamen cheered loudly as they fired the
first broadside, and continued to do so at intervals during the action.
The battle had actually commenced to windward before the Asia and the
Ottoman admiral had exchanged a single shot; and the action in that part
of the bay was brought on in nearly a similar manner as in ours, by the
Turks firing into the boat dispatched by Sir E. Codrington to explain
the mediatorial views of the Allies. The Greek pilot had been killed;
and ere the Asia's boat had reached the ship, the firing was unremitting
between the Asia, Genoa, and Albion, and the Turkish ships. About
half-past two o'clock, the battle had become general throughout the
whole lines, and the cannonade was one uninterrupted crash, louder than
any thunder. Previous to the Egyptian frigate firing into us, the men,
not engaged in furling the sails, had stripped themselves to their
duck-frocks, and were binding their black-silk neckcloths round
their heads and waists, and some upon their left knees.

The Egyptian frigate, which had fired into our ship was distant about
half a cable's length. Near her was another of the same large class,
together with a Turkish frigate and a corvette. These four ships poured
their broadsides into us without intermission for nearly a quarter of an
hour; but after a few rounds their firing became irregular and hasty,
and many of their shots injured our rigging. At the first broadside we
received, two men near me were instantly struck dead on the deck. There
was no appearance of any wounds upon them, but they never stirred a
limb; and their bodies, after lying a little beside the gun at which
they had been working, were dragged amid-ships. Several of the men were
now severely wounded.

We were near enough to distinguish the Turkish and Egyptian sailors in
the enemy's ships. They seemed to be a motley group. Most of them wore
turbans of white, with a red cap below, small brown jackets, and very
wide trousers; their legs were bare. They were active, brawny fellows,
of a dark-brown complexion, and they crowded the Turkish ships, which
accounts for the very great slaughter we occasioned among them. Many
dead bodies were tumbled through their port-holes into the sea.

Capt. Hugon, commanding the French frigate L'Armide, about three
o'clock, seeing the unequal, but unflinching combat we were maintaining,
wormed his ship coolly and deliberately through the Turkish inner line,
in such a gallant, masterly style, as never for one moment to obstruct
the fire of our ship upon our opponents. He then anchored on our
starboard-quarter, and fired a broadside into one of the Turkish
frigates, thus relieving us of one of our foes, which, in about ten
minutes, struck to the gallant Frenchman; who, on taking possession, in
the most handsome manner, hoisted our flag along with his own, to show
he had but completed the work we had begun. The skill, gallantry, and
courtesy of the French captain, were the subject of much talk amongst
us, and we were loud in his praise. We had still two of the frigates
and the corvette to contend with, whilst the Armide was engaged, when
a Russian line-of-battle-ship came up, and attracted the attention of
another Egyptian frigate, and thus drew off her fire from us. Our men
had now a breathing time, and they poured broadside upon broadside into
the Egyptian frigate, which had been our first assailant. The rapidity
and intensity of our concentrated fire soon told upon the vessel. Her
guns were irregularly served, and many shots struck our rigging. Our
round-shot, which were pointed to sink her, passed through her sides,
and frequently tore up her decks in rebounding. In a short time she was
compelled to haul down her colours, and ceased firing. We learned
afterwards, that her decks were covered with nearly one hundred and
fifty dead and wounded men, and the deck itself ripped up from the
effects of our balls. In the interim, the corvette, which had annoyed us
exceedingly during the action, came in for her share of our notice, and
we managed to repay her in some style for the favours she had bestowed
on us in the heat of the business. Orders were then issued for the men
to cease firing for a few minutes, until the Rose had passed between our
ship and the corvette, and had stationed herself in such a position as
to annoy the latter in conjunction with us. Our firing was then renewed
with redoubled fury, The men, during the pause, had leisure to quench
their thirst from the tank which stood on the deck, and they appeared
greatly refreshed--I may say, almost exhilarated, and to their work
they merrily went again.

The double-banked Egyptian frigate, which had struck her colours to us,
to our astonishment began, after having been silenced for some time, to
open a smart fire on our ships, though she had no colours flying. The
men were exceedingly exasperated at such treacherous conduct, and they
poured into her two severe broadsides, which effectually silenced her,
and at the moment we saw that a blue ensign was run up her mast, on
which we ceased cannonading her, and she never fired another gun during
the remainder of the action. It was a Greek pilot, pressed on board the
Egyptian, who ran up the English ensign, to prevent our ship from firing
again. He declared that our shot came into the frigate as thick and
rapidly as a hail-storm, and so terrified the crew, that they all ran
below. From the combined effects of our firing, and that of the Russian
ship, the other Egyptian frigate hauled down her colours. The corvette,
which was roughly handled by the Rose, was driven on shore, and there
destroyed.

Before this, however, a Turkish fireship approached us, having seemingly
no one on board. We fired into her, and in a few minutes she loudly
exploded astern, without doing us any damage. The concussion was
tremendous, shaking the ship through every beam. Another fireship came
close to the Philomel which soon sunk her, and in the very act of going
down she exploded.

A large ship near the Asia was now seen to be on fire; the blaze flamed
up as high as the topmast, and soon became one vast sheet of fire; in
that state she continued for a short time. The crew could be easily
discerned gliding about across the light; and, after a horrible
suspense, she blew up, with an explosion far louder and more stunning
than the ships which had done so in our vicinity. The smoke and lurid
flame ascended to a vast height in the air; beams, masts, and pieces of
the hull, along with human figures in various distorted postures, were
clearly distinguishable in the air.

It was now almost dark, and the action had ceased to be general
throughout the lines; but blaze rose upon blaze, and explosion thundered
upon explosion, in various parts of the bay. A pretty sharp cannonading
had been kept up between the guns of the castle and the ships entering
the bay, and that firing still continued. The smaller Turkish vessels,
forming the second line, were now nearly silenced, and several exhibited
signs of being on fire, from the thick light-coloured smoke that rose
from their decks.

The action had nearly terminated by six o'clock, after a duration of
four hours. Daylight had disappeared unperceived, owing to the dense
smoke of the cannonading, which, from the cessation of the firing,
now began to clear away, and showed us a clouded sky. The bay was
illuminated in various quarters by the numerous burning ships, which
rendered the sight one of the most sublime and magnificent that could
be imagined.

       *       *       *       *       *




MEMORABLE DAYS.

       *       *       *       *       *

VALENTINE'S DAY.


  Seynte _Valentine_. Of custome, yeere by yeere,
    Men have an usaunce, in this regioun,
  To loke and serche Cupide's kalendere,
    And chose theyr choyse, by grete affeccioun;
    Such as ben _move_ with Cupide's mocioun,
  Taking theyr choyse as theyr sorte doth falle;
  But I love oon whyche excellith alle.

LYDGATE'S _Poem of Queen Catherine, consort to Henry V._, 1440.


In some villages in Kent there is a singular custom observed on St.
Valentine's day. The young maidens, from five or six to eighteen years
of age, assemble in a crowd, and burn an uncouth effigy, which they
denominate a "_holly boy_," and which they obtain from the boys;
while in another part of the village the boys burn an equally ridiculous
effigy, which they call an "ivy girl," and which they steal from the
girls. The oldest inhabitants can give you no reason or account of this
curious practice, though it is always a sport at this season.

Numerous are the sports and superstitions concerning the day in
different parts of England. In some parts of Dorsetshire the young folks
purchase wax candles, and let them remain lighted all night in the
bedroom. I learned this from some old Dorsetshire friends of mine, who,
however, could throw no further _light_ upon the subject. In the
same county, I was also informed it was in many places customary for the
maids to hang up in the kitchen a bunch of such flowers as were then in
season, neatly suspended by a true lover's knot of blue riband. These
innocent doings are prevalent in other parts of England, and elsewhere.

Misson, a learned traveller, relates an amusing practice which was kept
up in his time:--"On the eve of St. Valentine's day, the young folks in
England and Scotland, by a very ancient custom, celebrated a little
festival. An equal number of maids and bachelors assemble together; all
write their true or some feigned name separately upon as many billets,
which they rolled up, and drew by way of lots, the maids taking the
men's billets, and the men the maids'; so that each of the young men
lights upon a girl that he calls his Valentine, and each of the girls
upon a young man which she calls her's. By this means each has two
Valentines; but the man sticks faster to the Valentine that falls to
him, than to the Valentine to whom he has fallen. Fortune having thus
divided the company into so many couples, the Valentines give balls and
treats to their fair mistresses, wear their billets several days upon
their bosoms or sleeves, and this little sport often ends in love."

In Poor Robin's Almanack, 1676, the _drawing_ of Valentines is thus
alluded to:

  "Now Andrew, Antho-
    Ny, and William,
  For Valentines _draw_
    Prue, Kate, Jilian."


Gay makes mention of a method of choosing Valentines in his time, viz.
that the lad's Valentine was the first lass he spied in the morning, who
was not an inmate of the house; and the lass's Valentine was the first
young man she met.

Also, it is a belief among certain playful damsels, that if they pin
four bay leaves to the corners of the pillow, and the fifth in the
middle, they are certain of dreaming of their lover.

Shakspeare bears witness to the custom of looking out of window for a
Valentine, or desiring to be one, by making Ophelia sing:--

  Good morrow! 'tis St. Valentine's day,
    All in the morning betime,
  And I a maid at your window.
    To be your Valentine!


In London this day is ushered in by the thundering knock of the postman
at the different doors, through whose hands some thousands of Valentines
pass for many a fair maiden in the course of the day. Valentines are,
however, getting very ridiculous, if we may go by the numerous doggrels
that appear in the print-shops on this day. As an instance, I transmit
the reader a copy of some lines appended to a Valentine sent me last
year. Under the figure of a shoemaker, with a head thrice the size of
his body, and his legs forming an oval, were the following rhymes:--

  Do you think to be my Valentine?
  Oh, no! you snob, you shan't be mine:
  So big your ugly head has grown,
  No wig will fit to seem your own
  Go, find your equal if you can,
  For I will ne'er have such a man;
  Your fine _bow_ legs and turned-in feet,
  Make you a _citizen_ complete."


The _fair_ writer had here evidently ventured upon a pun; how far
it has succeeded I will leave others to say. The lovely creature was,
however, entirely ignorant of my calling; and whatever impression such
a description would leave on the reader's mind, it made none on mine,
though in the second verse I was certainly much pleased with the fair
punster. I wish you saw the engraving!

W.H.H.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: Kirkstall Abbey.]


The first page or frontispiece embellisment of the present Number of the
MIRROR illustrates one of the most recent triumphs of art; and the above
vignette is a fragment of the monastic splendour of the twelfth century.
Truly this is the _bathos_ of art. The plaster and paint of the
_Colosseum_ are scarcely dry, and half the work is in embryo;
whilst _Kirkstall_ is crumbling to dust, and reading us "sermons in
stones:" we may well say,

  "Look here, upon this picture, and on this."


Kirkstall Abbey is situated a short distance from Leeds, in the West
Riding of Yorkshire. Its situation is one of the most picturesque that
the children of romance can wish for, being in a beautiful vale, watered
by the river Aire. It was of the Cistercian order, founded by Henry de
Lacy in 1157, and valued at the dissolution at 329l. 2s. 11d. Its rents
are now worth 10,253l. 6s. 8d. The gateway has been walled up, and
converted into a farm-house. The abbot's palace was on the south; the
roof of the aisle is entirely gone; places for six altars, three on each
side the high altar, appear by distinct chapels, but to what saints
dedicated is not easy, at this time, to discover. The length of the
church, from east to west, was 224 feet; the transept, from north to
south, 118 feet. The tower, built in the time of Henry VIII., remained
entire till January 27, 1779, when three sides of it were blown down,
and only the fourth remains. Part of an arched chamber, leading to the
cemetery, and part of the dormitory, still remain. On the ceiling of a
room in the gatehouse is inscribed,

  Mille et Quingentos postquam compleverit Orbis
  Tuq: et ter demos per sua signi Deus
  Prima sauluteferi post cunabula Christi,
  Cui datur omnium Honor, Gloria, Laus, et Amor.


The principal window is particularly admired as a rich specimen of
Gothic beauty, and a tourist, in 1818, says, "bids defiance to time
and tempest;" but in our engraving, which is of very recent date, the
details of the window will be sought for in vain. "Shrubs and trees,"
observes the same writer, "have found a footing in the crevices, and
branches from the walls shook in undulating monotony, and with a gloomy
and spiritual murmur, that spoke to the ear of time and events gone by,
and lost in oblivion and dilapidation. At the end, immediately beneath
the colossal window, grows an alder of considerable luxuriance, which,
added to the situation of every other object, brought Mr. Southey's
pathetic ballad of 'Mary the Maid of the Inn,' so forcibly before my
imagination,[5] that I involuntarily turned my eye to search for the
grave, where the murderers concealed their victim." He likewise tells
us of "the former garden of the monastery, still cultivated, and
exhibiting a fruitful appearance;" cells and cavities covered with
underwood; and his ascent to a gallery by a winding turret stair,
whence, says he, "the monks of Kirkstall feasted their eyes with all
that was charming in nature. It is said," adds he, "that a subterraneous
passage existed from hence to Eshelt Hall, a distance of some miles,
and that the entrance is yet traced."


    [5] We ourselves remember the thrilling effect of our first reading
        this ballad; especially while clambering over the ruins of
        Brambletye House. Indeed, the incident of the ballad is of the
        most sinking character, and it works on the stage with truly
        melo-dramatic force, Perhaps, there is not a more interesting
        picture than a solitary tree, tufted on a time-worn ruin; there
        are a thousand associations in such a scene, which, to the
        reflective mind, are dear as life's-blood, and as an artist
        would say, they make a fine study.

       *       *       *       *       *




THE NATURALIST.

       *       *       *       *       *

AMERICAN SONG BIRDS.


The _Mocking-bird_ seems to be the prince of all song birds, being
altogether unrivalled in the extent and variety of his vocal powers;
and, besides the fulness and melody of his original notes, he has the
faculty of imitating the notes of all other birds, from the humming-bird
to the eagle. Pennant tells us that he heard a caged one, in England,
imitate the mewing of a cat and the creaking of a sign in high winds.
The Hon. Daines Barrington says, his pipe comes nearest to the
nightingale, of any bird he ever heard. The description, however, given
by Wilson, in his own inimitable manner, as far excels Pennant and
Barrington as the bird excels his fellow-songsters. Wilson tells that
the ease, elegance and rapidity of his movements, the animation of his
eye, and the intelligence he displays in listening and laying up
lessons, mark the peculiarity of his genius. His voice is full, strong,
and musical, and capable of almost every modulation, from the clear
mellow tones of the wood thrush to the savage scream of the bald eagle.
In measure and accents he faithfully follows his originals, while in
force and sweetness of expression he greatly improves upon them.
In his native woods, upon a dewy morning, his song rises above every
competitor, for the others seem merely as inferior accompaniments. His
own notes are bold and full, and varied seemingly beyond all limits.
They consist of short expressions of two, three, or at most five or six,
syllables, generally expressed with great emphasis and rapidity, and
continued with undiminished ardour, for half an hour or an hour at a
time. While singing, he expands his wings and his tail, glistening with
white, keeping time to his own music, and the buoyant gaiety of his
action is no less fascinating than his song. He sweeps round with
enthusiastic ecstasy, he mounts and descends as his song swells or dies
away; he bounds aloft, as Bartram says, with the celerity of an arrow,
as if to recover or recall his very soul, expired in the last elevated
strain. A bystander might suppose that the whole feathered tribes had
assembled together on a trial of skill; each striving to produce his
utmost effect, so perfect are his imitations. He often deceives the
sportsman, and even birds themselves are sometimes imposed upon by this
admirable mimic. In confinement he loses little of the power or energy
of his song. He whistles for the dog; Cæsar starts up, wags his tail,
and runs to meet his master. He cries like a hurt chicken, and the hen
hurries about, with feathers on end, to protect her injured brood. He
repeats the tune taught him, though it be of considerable length, with
great accuracy. He runs over the notes of the canary, and of the red
bird, with such superior execution and effect, that the mortified
songsters confess his triumph by their silence. His fondness for
variety, some suppose to injure his song. His imitations of the brown
thrush is often interrupted by the crowing of cocks; and his exquisite
warblings after the blue bird, are mingled with the screaming of
swallows, or the cackling of hens. During moonlight, both in the wild
and tame state, he sings the whole night long. The hunters, in their
night excursions, know that the moon is rising the instant they begin to
hear his delightful solo. After Shakspeare, Barrington attributes in
part the exquisiteness of the nightingale's song to the silence of the
night; but if so, what are we to think of the bird which in the open
glare of day, overpowers and often silences all competition? His natural
notes partake of a character similar to those of the brown thrush, but
they are more sweet, more expressive, more varied, and uttered with
greater rapidity.

The _Yellow breasted Chat_ naturally follows his superior in the
art of mimicry. When his haunt is approached, he scolds the passenger in
a great variety of odd and uncouth monosyllables, difficult to describe,
but easily imitated so as to deceive the bird himself, and draw him
after you to a good distance. At first are heard short notes like the
whistling of a duck's wings, beginning loud and rapid, and becoming
lower and slower, till they end in detached notes. There succeeds
something like the barking of young puppies, followed by a variety of
guttural sounds, and ending like the mewing of a cat, but much hoarser.

The song of the _Baltimore Oriole_ is little less remarkable than
his fine appearance, and the ingenuity with which he builds his nest.
His notes consist of a clear mellow whistle, repeated at short intervals
as he gleams among the branches. There is in it a certain wild
plaintiveness and _naïveté_ extremely interesting. It is not uttered
with rapidity, but with the pleasing tranquillity of a careless
ploughboy, whistling for amusement. Since the streets of some of the
American towns have been planted with Lombardy poplars, the orioles are
constant visiters, chanting their native "wood notes wild," amid the din
of coaches, wheelbarrows, and sometimes within a few yards of a bawling
oysterwoman.

The _Virginian Nightingale_, _Red Bird_, or _Cardinal
Grosbeak_, has great clearness, variety, and melody in his notes,
many of which resemble the higher notes of a fife, and are nearly as
loud. He sings from March till September, and begins early in the dawn,
and repeating a favourite stanza twenty or thirty times successively,
and often for a whole morning together, till, like a good story too
frequently repeated, it becomes quite tiresome. He is very sprightly,
and full of vivacity; yet his notes are much inferior to those of the
wood, or even of the brown thrush.

The whole song of the _Black-throated Bunting_ consists of five, or
rather two, notes; the first repeated twice and very slowly, the third
thrice and rapidly, resembling _chip_, _chip_, _che-che-che_;
of which ditty he is by no means parsimonious, but will continue it for
hours successively. His manners are much like those of the European
yellow-hammer, sitting, while he sings, on palings and low bushes.

The song of the _Rice Bird_ is highly musical. Mounting and
hovering on the wing, at a small height above the ground, he chants out
a jingling melody of varied notes, as if half a dozen birds were singing
together. Some idea may be formed of it, by striking the high keys of a
piano-forte singly and quickly, making as many contrasts as possible, of
high and low notes. Many of the tones are delightful, but the ear can
with difficulty separate them. The general effect of the whole is good;
and when ten or twelve are singing on the same tree, the concert is
singularly pleasing.

The _Red-eyed Flycatcher_ has a loud, lively, and energetic song,
which is continued sometimes for an hour without intermission. The
notes are, in short emphatic bars of two, three, or four syllables.
On listening to this bird, in his full ardour of song, it requires but
little imagination to fancy you hear the words "Tom Kelly! whip! Tom
Kelly!'" very distinctly; and hence Tom Kelly is the name given to the
bird in the West Indies.

The _Crested Titmouse_ possesses a remarkable variety in the tones
of its voice, at one time not louder than the squeaking of a mouse, and
in a moment after whistling aloud and clearly, as if calling a dog, and
continuing this dog-call through the woods for half an hour at a time.

The _Red-breasted Blue Bird_ has a soft, agreeable, and often
repeated warble, uttered with opening and quivering wings. In his
courtship he uses the tenderest expressions, and caresses his mate by
sitting close by her, and singing his most endearing warblings. If a
rival appears, he attacks him with fury, and having driven him away,
returns to pour out a song of triumph. In autumn his song changes to a
simple plaintive note, which is heard in open weather all winter, though
in severe weather the bird is never to be seen.--_Mag. Nat. Hist._

       *       *       *       *       *



THE JOHN DORY.


In the 312th Number of the _Mirror_, several solutions are given of
the name of a well-known and high-priced fish, the John Dory, or Jaune
Dorée. Sir Joseph Banks's observation, that it should be spelled and
acknowledged "adorée," because it is the most valuable (or worshipful)
of fish, as requiring no sauce, is equally absurd and unwarranted; for
so far from its being incapable of improvement from such adjuncts, its
relish is materially augmented by any one of the three most usual side
tureens. The dory attains its fullest growth in the Adriatic, and is a
favourite dish in Venice, where, as in all the Italian ports of the
Mediterranean, it is called Janitore, or the gate-keeper, by which title
St. Peter is most commonly designated among the Catholics, as being the
reputed keeper of the keys of heaven. In this respect, the name tallies
with the superstitious legend of this being the fish out of whose mouth
the apostle took the tribute money. The breast of the animal is very
much flattened, as if it had been compressed; but, unfortunately for the
credit of the monks, this feature is exhibited in equally strong
lineaments by, at least, twenty other varieties of the finny tribe.

Our sailors naturally substituted the appellation of John Dory for the
Italian Janitore, and a very high price is sometimes given for this fish
when in prime condition, as I can testify from experience; having two
years since seen one at Ramsgate which was sold early in the day for
eighteen shillings.

JOHNNY RAW.

       *       *       *       *       *




_THE SELECTOR,_ AND LITERARY NOTICES OF _NEW WORKS._

       *       *       *       *       *

"Anecdotes correspond in literature with the sauces, the savoury dishes,
and the sweetmeats of a splendid banquet;" and as our weekly sheet is a
sort of _literary fricassee_, the following may not be unacceptable
to the reader. They are penciled from a work quaintly enough entitled
"The Living and the Dead, by a Country Curate;" and equally strange,
the cognomen of the author is not a _ruse_--he being a curate
at Liverpool, the son of Dr. Adam Neale, and a nephew of the late
Mr. Archibald Constable, the eminent publisher, of Edinburgh. The
information which this volume contains, may therefore be received with
greater confidence than is usually attached to flying anecdotes; since
Mr. Constable's frequent and familiar intercourse with the first
literary characters of his time must have given him peculiar facilities
of observation of their personal habits. The present volume of "The
Living and the Dead" is what the publisher terms the Second Series; for,
like Buck, the turncoat actor, booksellers always think that one good
turn deserves another. Our first extracts relate to Chantrey's monument
in Lichfield Cathedral, and another of rival celebrity.

At the retired church of Ashbourne is "a remarkable monument", by Banks,
to the memory of a very lovely and intelligent little girl, a baronet's
only child. It bears an inscription which, to use the mildest term, as
it contains not the slightest reference to Christian hopes, should have
been refused admittance within a Christian church. To the sentiments
it breathes, Paine himself, had he been alive, could have raised no
objection. * * * * The figure, which is recumbent, is that of a little
girl; the attitude exquisitely natural and graceful. It recalls most
forcibly to the recollection Chantrey's far-famed monument in Lichfield
Cathedral; for the resemblance, both in design and execution, between
these beautiful specimens of art is close and striking.

Previous to his executing that most magnificent yet most touching piece
of sculpture, which alone would have sufficed to immortalize his name,
Chantrey was, at his own request, locked up alone in the church for two
hours. This fact may be apocryphal; but the following I do affirm most
confidently. When I hinted to the venerable matron who shows the
monument, and who, being a retainer of the Boothby family, feels their
honour identified with her own, that Chantrey's was by far the finer
effort of the two, and that I wished I had that yet to see; and my
companion added, that though the design of the Boothby monument was
good, the execution was coarse and clumsy in the extreme, compared with
the elaborate finish of the Robinson's. "Humph," said the old lady, with
a most vinegar expression of countenance, with a degree of angry
hauteur, an air of insulted dignity that Yates would have travelled
fifty miles to witness; "the like of that's what I now hear every day.
Hang that fellow Chantee, or Cantee, or what you call him; I wish he
had never been born!" The Ashbourne people are naturally proud of the
monument. With them it is a kind of idol, to which every stranger is
required to do homage. Among others, when Prince Leopold passed through
Ashbourne, and inquiries were made by some of his royal highness's suite
as to the "lions" of the neighbourhood--"We have one of our own, Sir,"
was the ready reply; "a noble piece of sculpture in the church." To the
church the royal mourner was on the very point of repairing, when Sir
Robert Gardiner suddenly inquired the description to which the sculpture
in question belonged. "It is a monument, Sir, no one passes through
without seeing it; for its like is not to be met with in England--it is
a monument to an only child, whose mother died--" "Not now," said the
prince faintly; "not now. I too have lost--" and he turned away from
the carriage in tears.


MR. CANNING.

It may be observed, too, by the way, that to Ashbourne the late Mr.
Canning was remarkably partial. Near it lived a female relative to whom
he was warmly attached, and under whose roof many of his happiest hours
were spent. It is stated, that a little poem, entitled, "A Spring
Morning in Dovedale," one of the earliest efforts of his muse, is still
in existence; and I have good reasons for knowing, that but a very few
weeks previous to his death, he stated, in conversation, what delight
he should feel in "going into that neighbourhood, and revisiting haunts
which to him had been scenes of almost unalloyed enjoyment." I could
scarcely believe, so exquisitely tranquil is the scene, the very murmur
of the stream which flows around seems to soften itself in unison with
the stillness of the landscape--that Ashbourne had ever been other than
the abode of rural peace and comfort; and yet I was assured that during
the war there was scarcely any limit to the bustle and gaiety which
pervaded it.


MR. MOORE, THE POET.

At Mayfield, near Ashbourne, is a cottage where Moore, it is stated,
composed _Lalla Rookh_. "For some years this distinguished poet
lived at the neighbouring village of Mayfield; and there was no end to
the pleasantries and anecdotes that were floating about its coteries
respecting him; no limit to the recollections which existed of the
peculiarities of the poet, of the wit and drollery of the man. Go where
you would, his literary relics were pointed out to you. One family
possessed pens; and oh! Mr. Bramah! such pens! they would have borne a
comparison with Miss Mitford's; and those who are acquainted with that
lady's literary implements and accessaries will admit this is no
common-place praise--pens that wrote "Paradise and the Peri" in _Lalia
Rookh_! Another showed you a glove torn up into thin shreds in the
most even and regular manner possible; each shred being in breadth
about the eighth of an inch, and the work of the _teeth_! Pairs
were demolished in this way during the progress of the _Life of
Sheridan_. A third called your attention to a note written in a
strain of the most playful banter, and announcing the next "tragi-comedy
meeting." A fourth repeated a merry impromptu; and a fifth played a very
pathetic air, composed and adapted for some beautiful lines of Mrs.
Opie's. But to return to Mayfield. Our desire to go over the cottage
which he had inhabited was irresistible. It is neat, but very small, and
remarkable for nothing except combining a most sheltered situation with
the most extensive prospect. Still one had pleasure in going over it,
and peeping into the little book-room, ycleped the "Poet's Den," from
which so much true poetry had issued to delight and amuse mankind. But
our satisfaction was not without its portion of alloy. As we approached
the cottage, a figure scarcely human appeared at one of the windows.
Unaware that it was again inhabited, we hesitated about entering; when a
livid, half-starved visage presented itself through the lattice, and a
thin, shrill voice discordantly ejaculated,--"Come in, gentlemen, come
in. _Don't be afeard!_ I'm only a tailor at work on the premises."
This villanous salutation damped sadly the illusion of the scene;
and it was some time before we rallied sufficiently from this horrible
desecration to descend to the poet's walk in the shrubbery, where,
pacing up and down the live-long morning, he composed his _Lalla
Rookh_. It is a little confined gravel-walk, in length about twenty
paces; so narrow, that there is barely room on it for two persons to
walk abreast: bounded on one side by a straggling row of stinted
laurels, on the other by some old decayed wooden paling; at the end of
it was a huge haystack. Here, without prospect, space, fields, flowers,
or natural beauties of any description, was that most imaginative poem
conceived, planned, and executed. It was at Mayfield, too, that those
bitter stanzas were written on the death of Sheridan. There is a curious
circumstance connected with them; they were sent to Perry, the
well-known editor of the _Morning Chronicle_. Perry, though no
stickler in a general way, was staggered at the venom of two stanzas, to
which I need not more particularly allude, and wrote to inquire whether
he might be permitted to omit them. The reply which he received was
shortly this: "You may insert the lines in the _Chronicle_ or not,
as you please; I am perfectly indifferent about it; but if you _do_
insert them, it must be _verbatim_." Mr. Moore's fame would not
have suffered by their suppression; his heart would have been a gainer.
Some of his happiest efforts are connected with the localities of
Ashbourne. The beautiful lines beginning

  "Those evening bells, those evening bells,"


were suggested, it is said, by hearing the Ashboume peal; and sweetly
indeed do they sound at that distance, "both mournfully and slow;" while
those exquisitely touching stanzas,

  "Weep not for those whom the veil of the tomb
   In life's happy morning hath hid from our eyes,"


were avowedly written on the sister of an Ashbourne gentleman, Mr. P----
B----. But to his drolleries. He avowed on all occasions an utter horror
of ugly women. He was heard, one evening, to observe to a lady, whose
person was pre-eminently plain, but who, nevertheless, had been
anxiously doing her little endeavours to attract his attention,
"I cannot endure an ugly woman. I'm sure I could never live with one.
A man that marries an ugly woman cannot be happy." The lady observed,
that "such an observation she could not permit to pass without remark.
She knew many plain couples who lived most happily."--"Don't talk of
it," said the wit; "don't talk of it. It cannot be."--"But I tell you,"
said the lady, who became all at once both piqued and positive, "it can
be, and it is. I will name individuals so circumstanced. You have heard
of Colonel and Mrs. ----. She speaks in a deep, gruff bass voice;
he in a thin, shrill treble. She looks like a Jean Dorée; he like a
dried alligator. They are called Bubble and Squeak by some of their
neighbours; Venus and Adonis by others. But what of that? They are not
handsome, to be sure; and there is neither mirror nor pier-glass to be
found, search their house from one end of it to the other. But what of
that? No _unhandsome reflections_ can, in such a case, be cast by either
party! I know them well; and a more harmonious couple I never met with.
Now, Mr. Moore, in reply, what have you to say? I flatter myself I have
overthrown your theory completely." "Not a whit. Colonel--has got into a
scrape, and, like a soldier, puts the best face he can upon it." Those
still exist who were witnesses to his exultation when one morning he
entered Mrs----'s drawing-room, with an open letter in his hand, and,
in his peculiarly joyous and animated manner, exclaimed, "Don't be
surprised if I play all sorts of antics! I am like a child with a new
rattle! Here is a letter from my friend Lord Byron, telling me he has
dedicated to me his poem of the 'Corsair.' Ah, Mrs.----, it is nothing
new for a poor poet to dedicate his poem to a great lord; but it is
something passing strange for a great lord to dedicate his book to
a poor poet." Those who know him most intimately feel no sort of
hesitation in declaring, that he has again and again been heard to
express regret at the earlier efforts of his muse; or reluctance in
stating, at the same time, as a fact, that Mr. M., on two different
occasions, endeavoured to repurchase the copyright of certain poems;
but, in each instance, the sum demanded was so exorbitant, as of itself
to put an end to the negotiation. The attempt, however, does him honour.
And, affectionate father as he is well known to be, when he looks at his
beautiful little daughter, and those fears, and hopes, and cares, and
anxieties, come over him which almost choke a parent's utterance as he
gazes on a promising and idolized child, he will own the censures passed
on those poems to be just: nay more--every year will find him more and
more sensible of the paramount importance of the union of female purity
with female loveliness--more alive to the imperative duty, on a
father's part, to guard the maiden bosom from the slightest taint of
licentiousness. It is a fact not generally suspected, though his last
work, "The Epicurean," affords strong internal evidence of the truth of
the observation, that few are more thoroughly conversant with Scripture
than himself. Many of Alethe's most beautiful remarks are simple
paraphrases of the sacred volume. He has been heard to quote from it
with the happiest effect--to say there was no book like it--no book,
regarding it as a mere human composition, which could on any subject
even "approach it in poetry, beauty, pathos, and sublimity." Long may
these sentiments abide in him! And as no man, to use his _own_ words,
"ever had fiercer enemies or firmer friends"--as no man, to use those of
others, was ever more bitter and sarcastic as a political enemy, more
affectionate and devoted as a private friend, the more deeply his future
writings are impregnated with the spirit of that volume, the more
heartfelt, let him be well assured, will be his gratification in that
hour when "we shall think of those we love, only to regret that we have
not loved more dearly, when we shall remember our enemies only to
forgive them."

       *       *       *       *       *




RETROSPECTIVE GLEANINGS.

       *       *       *       *       *

REGAL TABLET.

(_For the Mirror._)

The following Synopsis of English Sovereigns, and their contemporaries,
will, it is hoped, be acceptable to the readers of history.

JACOBUS.


(_Normans_.)

WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR

began his reign, 14th Oct. 1066, died 9th Sept. 1087.

_Contemporaries_.

_Popes_.

Alexander II.,   1061.
Gregory VII.,    1073.
Victor III.,     1086.

_Emperors of the East._

Constantine XII.,1059.
Romanus IV.,     1068.
Michael VII.,    1071.
Nicephorus I.,   1078.
Alexis I.,       1081.

_Emperor of the West._

Henry IV.,       1056.

_France._

Philip I.,       1060.

_Scotland_.

Malcolm III.,    1059.
Donald VIII.,    1068.

       *       *       *       *       *

WILLIAM RUFUS

began his reign 9th Sept. 1087, died 2nd Aug. 1100.

_Popes._

Victor III.,     1086.
Urban II.,       1088.
Pascal II.,      1099.

_Emperor of the East._

Alexis I.,       1081.

_Emperor of the West._

Henry IV., 1056.

_France_.

Philip I.,       1060.

_Scotland._

Donald VIII.,    1068.

       *       *       *       *       *

HENRY I.

began his reign 2nd August 1100, ended 1st Dec. 1135.

_Popes._

Pascal II.,      1099.
Gelassus II.,    1118.
Calistus II.,    1119.
Honorius II.,    1124.
Innocent II.,    1130.
Celestin II.,    1134.

_Emperors of the East._

Alexis I.,       1081.
John Cominus,    1118.

_Emperors of the West._

Henry IV.,       1056.
Henry V.,        1106.
Lotharius II.,   1125.

_France._

Philip I.,       1060.
Louis VI.,       1108.

_Scotland._

Donald VIII.,    1068.
Edgar,           1108.
David,           1134.

       *       *       *       *       *

STEPHEN

began his reign 1st Dec. 1135, ended 25th Oct. 1154.

_Popes._

Celestin II.,    1134.
Lucius II.,      1144.
Eugenius III.,   1145.
Anastasius IV.,  1153.
Adrian V.,       1154.

_Emperors of the East._

John Cominus,    1118.
Emanuel Cominus, 1143.

_Emperors of the West._

Lotharius II.,   1125.
Conrad III.,     1138.
Frederic I.,     1152.

_France._

Louis VI.,       1108.
Louis VII.,      1137.

_Scotland._

David,           1134.

       *       *       *       *       *

_Saxon Line Restored._

HENRY II.

began his reign 25th Oct. 1154, ended 6th July, 1189.

_Popes._

Adrian IV.,      1154.
Alexander II.,   1154.
Lucius III.,     1181.
Urban III.,      1185.
Gregory VIII.,   1187.
Clement III.,    1188.

_Emperors of the East._

Emanuel Cominus, 1143.
Alexis II.,      1180.
Andronicus I.,   1183.
Isaac II.,       1185.

_Emperor of the West._

Frederic I.,     1152.

_France_.

Louis VII.,      1137.
Philip II.,      1180.

_Scotland._

David,           1134.
Malcolm IV.,     1163.
William,         1165.

       *       *       *       *       *

RICHARD I.

began his reign 6th July, 1189, ended 6th April, 1199.

_Popes_.

Clement III.,    1188.
Celestin III.,   1191.
Innocent III.,   1198.

_Emperors of the East_.

Isaac II.,       1185.
Alexis III.,     1195.

_Emperors of the West._

Frederic I.,     1152.
Henry VI.,       1196.
Philip I.,       1197.

_France_.

Philip II.,      1180.

_Scotland_.

William,         1165.

       *       *       *       *       *

JOHN

began his reign 6th April, 1199, ended 19th Oct. 1216.

_Popes._

Innocent III.,   1198.
Honorius III.,   1215.

_Emperors of the East._

Alexis III.,     1195.
Alexis IV.,      1203.
Alexis V.,       1204.
Theodoras I.,    1204.

_Emperors of the West._

Philip I.,       1197.
Otho IV.,        1208.
Frederic II.,    1212.

_French Emperors of Constantinople._

Baldwin I.,      1204.
Henry I.,        1206.

_France._

Philip II.,      1180.

_Scotland._

William,         1165.
Alexander II.,   1214.

       *       *       *       *       *

HENRY III.

began his reign 19th Oct. 1216, ended 16th Nov. 1272.

_Popes._

Honorius III.,   1215.
Gregory IX.,     1227.
Celestin IV.,    1241.
Innocent IV.,    1243.
Alexander IV.,   1254.
Urban IV.,       1261.
Clement IV.,     1265.
Gregory X.,      1271.

_Emperors of the East._

Theodore I.,     1204.
John III.,       1222.
Theodore II.,    1225.
John IV.,        1259.
Michael VIII.,   1259.

_Emperor of the West._

Frederic II.,    1212.

_French Emperors of Constantinople._

Henry I.,        1206.
Peter II.,       1217.
Robert de Cour,  1221.
Baldwin II.,     1237.

_France._

Philip II.,      1180.
Louis VIII.,     1223.
Louis IX.,       1226.
Philip III.,     1270.

_Scotland._

Alexander II.,   1214.
Alexander III.,  1249.

       *       *       *       *       *

EDWARD I.

began his reign 16th Nov. 1272, ended 7th July, 1307.

_Popes._

Gregory X.,      1270.
Innocent V.,     1276.
Adrian V.,       1276.
John XXI.,       1276.
Nicholas III.,   1277.
Martin IV.,      1281.
Honorius IV.,    1285.
Nicholas IV.,    1288.
Celestin V.,     1294.
Boniface VIII.,  1294.
Benedict X.,     1303.
Clement V.,      1305.

_Emperors of the East._

Michael VIII.,   1259.
Andronicus II.,  1283.

_Emperors of the West._

Frederic II.,    1212.
Rodolphus I.,    1273.
Adolphus,        1291.
Albert I.,       1298.

_France._

Philip III.,     1270.
Philip IV.,      1285.

_Scotland._

Alexander III.,  1249.
John Baliol,     1293.
Robert Bruce,    1306.

(_To be continued._)

       *       *       *       *       *




THE GATHERER.

  A snapper up of unconsidered trifles.
  SHAKSPEARE.

       *       *       *       *       *


TIMELY REPARTEE.

A soldier of Marshal Saxe's army being discovered in a theft, was
condemned to be hanged. What he had stolen might be worth about 5s.
The marshal meeting him as he was being led to execution, said to him,
"What a miserable fool you were to risk your life for 5s.!"--"General,"
replied the soldier, "I have risked it every day for five-pence." This
repartee saved his life.

       *       *       *       *       *


MARSHAL VILLARS.

It was customary, as the French general in command of the Italian army
passed through Lyons to join his army, for that town to offer him a
purse full of gold. Marshal Villars on being thus complimented by the
head magistrate, the latter concluded his speech by observing, that
Turenne, who was the last commander of the Italian army who had honoured
the town with his presence, had taken the purse, but returned the money.
"Ah!" replied Villars, pocketing both the purse and the gold, "I have
always looked upon Turenne to be _inimitable_."

       *       *       *       *       *


LONG STORIES.

Capt. S------, of the ------ regiment, during the American war, was
notorious for a propensity, not to story-telling, but to telling long
stories, which he used to indulge in defiance of time and place, often
to the great annoyance of his immediate companions; but he was so
good-humoured withal, that they were loth to check him abruptly or
harshly. An opportunity occurred of giving him a hint, which had the
desired effect. He was a member of a courtmartial assembled for the
trial of a private of the regiment. The man bore a very good character
in general, the offence he had committed was slight, and the court was
rather at a loss what punishment to award, for it was requisite to award
some, as the man had been found guilty. While they were deliberating on
this, Major ------, now General Sir ------, suddenly turning to the
president, said, in his dry manner, "Suppose we sentence him to hear
two of Captain S------'s long stories."

       *       *       *       *       *


GENUINE GAELIC PROCLAMATION.

The crier sounds a flourish on that delightful sonorous instrument,
the bagpipe, then loquitor, "Tak tent a' ye land louping hallions, the
meickle deil tamn ye, tat are within the bounds. If any o' ye be foond
fishing in ma Lort Preadalpine's gruns, he'll be first headit, and syne
hangit, and syne droom't; an' if ta loon's bauld enough to come bock
again, his horse and cart will be ta'en frae him; and if ta teils' sae
grit wi' him tat he shows his ill faurd face ta three times, far waur
things wull be dune till him. An noo tat ye a' ken ta wull o' ta lairt,
I'll e'en gang hame and sup my brose."

       *       *       *       *       *


TO LOUISA.

  L et me but hope
  O lovely maid,
  U ever will be mine,
  I 'll bless my fate,
  S upremely great,
  A happy _Valentine_.

N.R.H.

       *       *       *       *       *


A DEAD SUBJECT.

"_Dyed_ stockings are always rotten," said a Nottingham
warehouseman.--"Yes," replied a by-stander, "and you'll be rotten when
you're _dead_."

GRIZZLE.

       *       *       *       *       *


What will some grave people say to this?--from a "Constant Reader."
A little boy having swallowed a medal of Napoleon, ran in great
tribulation to his mother, and told her "that he had swallowed
_Boneparty_."

       *       *       *       *       *


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