Зображення сторінки
PDF
ePub

watched and prayed on the vigil of the dedication, and took that point of the horizon where the sun arose for the east, which makes that variation, so that few stand true, except those built between the two equinoxes. I have experimented some churches, and have found the line to point to that part of the horizon where the sun rises on the day of that saint to whom the church was dedicated.

Before the wake, or feast of the dedication of the church, they sat up all night fasting and praying, (viz.) on the eve of the wake.

New Moon.

In Scotland, especially among the Highlanders, the women make a courtesy to the new moon; and our English women in this country have a touch of this, some of them sitting astride on a gate or style the first evening the new moon appears, and say, "A fine moon, God bless her!" The like I observed in Herefordshire.

Husbandry-Shepherds.

The Britons received the knowledge of husbandry from the Romans; the foot and the acre, which we yet use, is the nearest to them. In our west country, (and I believe so in the north,) they give no wages to the shepherd, but he has the keeping so many sheep with his master's flock. Plautus hints at this in his Asinaria, act 3, scene 1, "etiam Opilio," &c.

Architecture.

The Normans brought with them into England civility and building, which, though it was gothic, was yet magnificent.

Mr. Dugdale told me, that, about the time of king Henry III., the pope gave a bull, or patent, to a company of Italian architects, to travel up and down Europe to build churches.

Trumpets-Sheriffs' Trumpets.

Upon occasion of bustling in those days, great lords sounded their trumpets, and summoned those that held under them. Old sir Walter Long, of Draycot, kept a trumpeter, rode with thirty servants and retainers. Hence the sheriffs' trumpets at this day.

Younger Brothers.

No younger brothers were to betake themselves to trades, but were churchmen or retainers to great men,

Learning, and learned Men.

From the time of Erasmus till about twenty years last past, the learning was downright pedantry. The conversation and habits of those times were as starched as their bands and square beards, and gravity was then taken for wisdom. The doctors in those days were but old boys, when quibbles passed for wit, even in their ser

mons.

Gentry and their Children.

The gentry and citizens had little learning of any kind, and their way of breeding up their children was suitable to the rest. They were as severe to their children as their schoolmasters, and their schoolmasters as masters of the house of correction : the child perfectly loathed the sight of his parents as the slave his torturę.

Gentlemen of thirty and forty years old were to stand like mutes and fools bareheaded before their parents; and the daughters (grown women) were to stand at the cupboard-side during the whole time of her proud mother's visit, unless (as the fashion was) leave was desired forsooth that a cushion should be given them to kneel upon, brought them by the servingman, after they had done sufficient penance in standing.

The boys (I mean the young fellow) had their foreheads turned up and stiffened with spittle they were to stand mannerly forsooth thus, the foretop ordered as before, with one hand at the bandstring, and the other behind.

Fans.

The gentlewomen had prodigious fans, as is to be seen in old pictures, like that instrument which is used to drive feathers, and it had a handle at least half a yard long; with these the daughters were oftentimes corrected, (sir Edward Coke, lord chief justice, rode the circuit with such a fan; sir William Dugdale told me he was an eye-witness of it. The earl of Manchester also used such a fan,) but fathers and mothers slashed their daughters in the time of their besom discipline, when they were perfect women.

University Flogging.

At Oxford (and I believe at Cambridge) the rod was frequently used by the tutors and deans; and Dr. Potter, of Trinity college, I knew right well, whipped his pupil with his sword by his side, when he came to take his leave of him to go to the inns of court,

[graphic][merged small]

This is a "London cry" at the present time: the engraving represents the crier, William Liston, from a drawing for which he purposely stood.

This "public character" was born in the Gallowgate in the city of Glasgow. He became a soldier in the waggon-train, commanded by colonel Hamilton, and served under the duke of York in Holland, where, on the 6th of October, 1799, he lost his right arm and left leg, and his place in the army. His misfortunes thrust distinction upon him. From having been a private in the ranks, where he would have re

mained a single undistinguishable cipher 0, amongst a row of ciphers 0 00000000 he now makes a figure in the world; and is perhaps better known throughout England than any other individual of his order in society, for he has visited almost every town with "young lambs to sell." He has a wife and four children; the latter are constantly employed in making the "young, lambs," with white cotton wool for fleeces, spangled with Dutch gilt, the head of flour paste, red paint on the cheeks, two jet black spots for eyes, horns of twisted shining tin, legs to correspond, and pink tape

tied round the neck for a graceful collar. A full basket of these, and his song-like cry, attract the attention of the juvenile population, and he contrives to pick up a living, notwithstanding the "badness of the times." The day after last Christmas-day, his cry in Covent-garden allured the stagemanager to purchase four dozen of "young lambs," and at night they were "brought .out at that theatre, in the basket of a performer who personated their old proprietor, and cried so as to deceive the younger part of the audience into a belief that he was their real favourite of the streets.

[ocr errors]

I remember the first crier of "young lambs to sell!" He was a maimed sailor; and with him originated the manufacture. If I am not mistaken, this man, many years after I had ceased to be a purchaser of his ware, was guilty of some delinquency, for which he forfeited his life: his cry was

Young lambs to sell! young lambs to sell!
Two for a penny young lambs to sell!
Two for a penny young lambs to sell-
Two for a penny young lambs to sell!
If I'd as much money as I could tell,
I wouldn't cry young lambs to sell!
Young lambs to sell-young lambs to sell-
Two for a penny young lambs to sell!
Young lambs to se-e-11,
Young la-a-mbs to sell!

Though it is five and thirty years ago since I heard the sailor's musical "cry," it still sings in my memory; it was a tenor of modulated harmonious tune, till, in the last line but one, it became a thorough bass, and rolled off at the close with a loud swell that filled urchin listeners with awe and admiration. During this chant his head was elevated, and he gave his full voice, and apparently his looks, to the winds; but the moment he concluded, and when attention was yet rivetted, his address became particular: his persuasive eye and jocular address flashed round the circle of "my little masters and mistresses," and his hand presented a couple of his snow white "fleecy charge," dabbled in gold, "two for a penny!" nor did he resume his song till ones and twos were in the possession of probably every child who had a halfpenny or penny at command. The old sailor's "young lambs" were only half the cost of the poor soldier's. It may be doubted whether the materials of their composition have doubled in price, but the demand for "young lambs" has certainly lessened, while the present manufacturer has quite as many wants as the old one,

and luckily possessing a monopoly of the manufacture, he therefore raises the price of his articles to the necessity of his circumstances. It is not convenient to refer to the precise chapter in the "Wealth of Nations,"or to verified tables of the increased value of money, in order to show that the new lamb-seller has not exceeded "an equitable adjustment" in the arrangement of his present prices; but it is fair to state in his behalf, that he declares, notwithstanding all the noise he makes, the carrying on of the lamb business is scarcely better than pig-shaving; "Sir," says he, "it's great cry, and little wool." From a poor fellow, at his time of life, with only half his limbs to support a large family, this is no joke. Not having been at his native place for two and twenty years, the desire to see it once more is strong within him, and he purposes next Easter to turn his face northwards, with his family, and

[ocr errors]

cry" all the way from London to Glasgow. Let the little ones, therefore, in the towns of his route, keep a penny or two by them to lay out in " young lambs," and so help the poor fellow along the road, in this stage of his struggle through life.

March 19, 1827.

LINES ON HAPPINESS.

For the Table Book.

Like a frail shadow seen in maze,

Or some bright star shot o'er the ocean, Is happiness, that meteor's blaze, For ever fleeting in its motion.

It plays within our fancied grasp,

Like a phantasmagorian shade,
Pursued, e'en to the latest gasp,

It still seems hovering in the glade,
Tis but like hope, and hope's, at best,
A star that leads the weary on,
Still pointing to the unpossess'd,,
And palling that it beams upon.

HUMAN LIFE. BY GOETHE.

J. B. O.

That life is but a dream is the opinion of many; it is mine. When I see the narrow limits which confine the penetrating, active genius of man; when I see that all his powers are directed to satisfy mere necessities, the only end of which is to prolong a precarious or painful existence; that his greatest care, with regard to certain inquiries, is but a blind resignation; and that

we only amuse ourselves with painting brilliant figures and smiling landscapes on the walls of our prison, whilst we see on all sides the boundary which confines us; when I consider these things I am silent: I examine myself; and what do I find? Alas! more vague desires, presages, and visions, than conviction, truth, and reality.

The happiest are those, who, like children, think not of the morrow, amuse themselves with playthings, dress and undress their dolls, watch with great respect before the cupboard where mamma keeps the sweetmeats, and when they get any, eat them directly, and cry for more; these are certainly happy beings. Many also are to be envied, who dignify their paltry employments, sometimes even their passions, with pompous titles; and who represent themselves to mankind as beings of a superior order, whose occupation it is to promote their welfare and glory. But the man who in all humility acknowledges the vanity of these things; observes with what pleasure the wealthy citizen transforms his little garden into a paradise; with what patience the poor man bears his burden; and that all wish equally to behold the sun yet a little longer; he too may be at peace. He creates a world of his own, is happy also because he is a man; and, however limited his sphere, he preserves in his bosom the idea of liberty. :

VALEDICTORY STANZAS.

For the Table Book.

The flower is faded,

The sun-beam is fled,

The bright eye is shaded,

The loved one is dead:
Like a star in the morning--
When, mantled in gray,

Aurora is dawning

She vanish'd away.

Like the primrose that bloometh
Neglected to die,

Though its sweetness perfumeth

The ev'ning's soft sigh-
Like lightning in summer,
Like rainbows that shine
With a mild dreamy glimmer
In colours divine-

The kind and pure hearted,
The tender, the true,
From our love has departed
With scarce an adieu :

So briefly, so brightly

In virtue she shone,
As shooting stars nightly

That blaze and are gone.

The place of her slumber

Is holy to me,
And oft as I number

The leaves of the tree,
Whose branches in sorrow
Bend over her urn,
I think of to-morrow
And silently mourn.

The farewell is spoken,

The spirit sublime The last tie has broken,

That bound it to time;
And bright is its dwelling,
Its mansion of bliss-
How far, far excelling
The darkness of this!
Yet hearts still are beating,
And eyes
still are wet-
True, our joys are all fleeting,

But who can forget?
I know they must vanish

As visions depart,

But oh, can this banish

The thorn from my heart?
The eye of affection,

Its tribute of tears
Sheds, with fond recollection
Of life's happy years;
And tho' vain be the anguish
Indulg'd o'er the tomb,
Yet nature will languish

And shrink from its gloom.

Those lips-their least motion
Was music to me,
And, like light on the ocean,
Those eyes seem'd to be:
Are they mute-and for ever?
The spell will not break;
Are they closed-must I never
Behold them awake?

When distress was around me

Thy smiles were as balm, That in misery found me, And left me in calm: Success became dearer

When thou wert with me, And the clear sky grew clearer When gaz'd on with thee.

Thou art gone-and tho' reason My grief would disarm,

I feel there's a season

When grief has a charm ;
And 'tis sweeter, far sweeter
To sit by thy grave,
Than to follow Hope's meteor
Down time's hasty wave.

In darkness we laid thee-
The earth for thy bed-
The couch that we made thee
Is press'd by thee dead:

[blocks in formation]

On the 30th of March, 1789, 3601. was carried to the account of the public, in consequence of the following note received by the chancellor of the exchequer.

"Sir-You will herewith receive bank notes to the amount of 360l. which is the property of the nation, and which, as an honest man, you will be so just as to apply to the use of the state in such manner that the nation may not suffer by its having been detained from the public treasury. You are implored to do this for the ease of conscience to an honest man,"

Anecdotes

OF

HENRY THE GREAT.

PUBLIC LIBEL.

About 1605, Henry IV. of France attempting to enforce some regulations respecting the annuities upon the Hotel de Ville, of Paris, several assemblies of the citizens were held, in which Francis Miron, the prévôt des marchands, addressed the king's commissioners against the measures with fervour and firmness. It was rumoured amongst the people of Paris, that their magistrate was threatened, for having exerted himself too warmly in their behalf; they crowded about his house, in order to defend him, but Miron requested them to retire, and not to render him really criminal. He represented that nothing injurious was to be apprehended, for they had a king as great and wise, as he was beneficent and just, who would not suffer himself to be hurried away by the instigations of evil counsellors. Yet those whose conduct Miron had arraigned, endeavoured to persuade Henry to punish him, and deprive him of his office, for disobedient actions,

and seditious discourse. The king's answer contained memorable expressions:"Authority does not always consist in carrying things with a high hand: regard must be paid to times, persons, and the subject-matter. I have been ten years in extinguishing civil discord, I dread its revival, and Paris has cost me too much for me to risk its loss; in my opinion, it would unquestionably be the case, were I to follow your advice; for I should be obliged to make terrible examples, which, in a few days, would deprive me of the glory of clemency, and the affection of my people; and these I prize as much, and even more than my crown. I have experienced, on many occasions, the fidelity and probity of Miron, who harbours no ill intentions, but undoubtedly deemed himself bound, by the duties of his office, to act as he has acted. If unguarded expressions have escaped him, I pardon them, on account of his past services; and, should he even desire a martyrdom in the public cause, I will disappoint him of the glory, by avoiding to become a persecutor and a tyrant."

Henry ended the affair by receiving the apology and submission of Miron, and revoking the orders concerning the annuities, which had occasioned the popular alarm.*

LIBELLOUS DRAMA.

On the 26th of January, 1607, a pleasant farce was acted at the Hotel de Bourgogne, at Paris, before Henry IV., his queen, and the greater part of the princes, lords, and ladies of the court. The subject of the piece was a quarrel between a married man and his wife. The wife told her husband, that he staid tippling at the tavern while executions were daily laid upon their goods, for the tax which must be paid to the king, and that all their substance was carried away. "It is for that very reason," said the husband in his defence," that we should make merry with good cheer; for of what service would all the fortune we could amass be to us, since it would not belong to ourselves, but to this same noble king. I will drink the more, and of the very best: monsieur the king shall not meddle with that; go fetch me some this minute; march." "Ah, wretch!" replied the wife," would you bring me and your children to ruin?" During this dialogue, three officers of justice came in, and demanded the tax, and, in default of payment, prepared to carry away the furniture. The wife began a loud

* Perefixe.

« НазадПродовжити »