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On our way from Penge, W. thought this object worth sketching. He occupied himself with his pencil, and I amused myself with dropping grains of dust among a fleet of tadpoles on the yellow sands, and watching their motions: a few inches from them, in a clearer shallow, lay a shoal of stickle-backs as on their Dogger-bank: a thread and a blood-worm, and the absence of my friend, and of certain feelings in behalf of the worms, would have afforded me excellent sport. The rivulet crosses the road from a meadow, where I heard it in its narrow channel, and muttering inwardly

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"the rapids are near," from the "Canadian Boat-song," I fell into a reverie on Wilson's magnificent painting of the falls of Niagara, in Mr. Landseer's paintingroom. While I seated myself by the wayside, and, among ground-ivy and periwinkle, discriminating the diminutive forms of trees in the varied mosses of an old bank, I recollected descriptions I had read of transatlantic scenery, and the gigantic vegetation on the Ohio and Mississipi.

A labourer told us, that this little brook is called "Chaffinch's River," and that it springs from "the Alders," near Croydon, and runs into the Ravensbourne.

L

Garrick Plays.

No. XX.

[From "Bussy D'Ambois his Revenge," a Tragedy, by George Chapman, 1613.]

Plays and Players.

Guise. I would have these things
Brought upon Stages, to let mighty Misers

See all their grave and serious mischiefs play'd,
As once they were in Athens and old Rome.
Clermont. Nay, we must now have nothing brought
on Stages

But puppetry, and pied ridiculous antics.

Men thither come to laugh, and feed fool-fat ;
Check at all goodness there, as being profaned:
When, wheresoever Goodness comes, she makes
The place still sacred, though with other feet
Never so much 'tis scandal'd and polluted.
Let me learn any thing, that fits a man,

In Stables shewn, as well as Stages.-
any

Batigny Why, is not all the World esteem'd a Stage? Clermont. Yes, and right worthily; and Stages too Have a respect due to them, if but only

For what the good Greek Moralist says of them;
"Is a man proud of greatness, or of riches?
Give me an expert Actor; I'll shew all
That can within his greatest glory fall:

Is a man 'fraid with poverty and lowness?
Give me an Actor; I'll shew every eye
What he laments so, and so much does fly:
The best and worst of both."-If but for this then,
To make the proudest outside, that most swells
With things without him, and above his worth,
See how small cause he has to be so blown up;
And the most poor man, to be griev'd with poorness;
Both being so easily borne by expert Actors:
The Stage and Actors are not so contemptful,
As every innovating Puritan,

And ignorant Swearer out of jealous envy,
Would have the world imagine. And besides
That all things have been liken'd to the mirth
Used upon Stages, and to Stages fitted;
The Splenetive Philosopher, that ever
Laugh'd at them all, were worthy the enstaging:
All objects, were they ne'er so full of tears,
He so conceited, that he could distill thence
Matter, that still fed his ridiculous humour.
Heard he a Lawyer, never so vehement pleading,

He stood and laugh'd. Heard he a Tradesman, swear

ing

Never so thriftily, selling of his wares,

He stood and laugh'd. Heard he a Holy Brother,
For hollow ostentation, at his prayers
Ne'er so impetuously, he stood and laugh'd.
Saw he a Great Man, never so insulting,
Severely inflicting, gravely giving laws,

Not for their good but his-he stood and laugh'd.
Saw he a Youthful Widow,

Never so weeping, wringing of her hands

For her dead Lord, still the Philosopher laugh'd.— Now, whether he supposed all these Presentments

Were only maskeries, and wore false faces,
Or else were simply vain, I take no care;
But still he laugh'd, how grave soe'er they were.

Stoicism.

in this one thing all the discipline

Of manners and of manhood is contain'd;
A Man to join himself with the Universe
In his main sway; and make (in all things fit)
One with that All; and go on, round as it:
Not plucking from the whole his wretched part,
And into straits, or into nought revert;
Wishing the complete Universe might be
Subject to such a rag of it as He.

Apparitions before the Body's Death: SCOTICE, Second Sight.

these true Shadows of the Guise and Cardinal, Fore-running thus their Bodies, may approve, That all things to be done, as here we live, Are done before all times in th' other life.

[From "Satiromastix," a Comedy, by Thomas Decker, 1602 in which Ben Jonson, under the name of Horace, is reprehended, in retaliation of his "Poetaster;" in which he had attacked two of his Brother Dramatists, probably Marston and Decker, under the names of Crispinus and Demetrius.]

Horace. What could I do, out of a just revenge, But bring them to the Stage? they envy me, Because I hold more worthy company.

Demetrius. Good Horace, no; my cheeks do blush for thine,

As often as thou speaks't so. Where one true
And nobly-virtuous spirit for thy best part
Loves thee, I wish one ten even from my heart.
I make account I put up as deep share
In any good man's love, which thy worth owns,
As thou thyself; we envy not to see

Thy friends with bays to crown thy Poesy.
No, here the gall lies; we that know what stuff
Thy very heart is made of, know the stalk
On which thy learning grows, and can give life
To thy (once dying) baseness, yet must we
Dance antics on thy paper.

Crispinus. This makes us angry, but not envious.
No; were thy warpt soul put in a new mould,
I'd wear thee as a jewel set in gold.

[From the "Antipodes," a Comedy, by Richard Brome, 1633.]

Directions to Players.

Nobleman. -- -My actors

Are all in readiness, and I think all perfect,
But one, that never will be perfect in a thing

He studies; yet he makes such shifts extempore,

(Knowing the purpose what he is to speak to),
That he moves mirth in me 'bove all the rest.
For I am none of those Poetic Furies,
That threats the actor's life, in a whole Play
That adds a syllable, or takes away.
If he can fribble through, and move delight
In others, I am pleased.-

Let me not see you now,

you,

In the scholastic way you brought to town with
With see-saw sack-a-down, like a sawyer;
Nor in a comic scene play Hercules Furens,
Tearing your throat to split the audients' ears;
And you, Sir, you had got a trick of late
Of holding out your breech in a set speech;
Your fingers fibulating on your breast,
As if your buttons or your bandstrings were
Helps to your memory; let me see you in't
No more, I charge you. No, nor you, Sir,
In that o'er-action of your legs I told you of,
Your singles and your doubles-look you—thus-
Like one of the dancing-masters of the bear-garden;
And when you've spoke, at end of every speech,
Not minding the reply, you turn you round
As tumblers do, when betwixt every feat
They gather wind by firking up their breeches.
I'll none of these absurdities in my house;
But words and actions married so together,
That shall strike harmony in the ears and eyes
Of the severest, if judicious, critics.
Players. My Lord, we are corrected.
Nobleman. Go, be ready.-

But you, Sir, are incorrigible, and
Take licence to yourself to add unto

Your parts your own free fancy; and sometimes
To alter or diminish what the writer

With care and skill composed; and when you are
To speak to your Co-actors in the scene,
You hold interloqutions with the audients.

Player. That is a way, my Lord, has been allowed
On elder stages, to move mirth and laughter.
Nobleman. Yes, in the days of Tarleton and Kemp,
Before the Stage was purged from barbarism,
And brought to the perfection it now shines with.
Then Fools and Jesters spent their wits, because
The Poets were wise enough to save their own
For profitabler uses.-

C. L.

THE DIVER OF CHARYBDIS.

To the Editor.

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Sir,-Mr. Brydone, in the quotations you have made,* appears to doubt the accuracy of the stories relating to Charybdis. I never recollect to have heard mention of the name of Colus, but apprehend he was the same as the famous Sicilian diver, Nicolo Pesce. Associated with Charybdis,

At page 643, &c,

some notice of this extraordinary man may not be uninteresting.

The authenticity of this account depends entirely on the authority of Kircher. He assures us, he had it from the archives of the kings of Sicily; but its having so much of the marvellous in it, many have been disposed to doubt its accuracy. Historians are too fond of fiction, but we should by no means doubt their sincerity, when we find them on other subjects not contemptible authorities.

"In the time of Frederic, king of Sicily, (says Kircher,) there lived a celebrated diver, whose name was Nicholas, and who, from his amazing skill in swimming, and his perseverance under the water, was sur named the fish. This man had from his infancy been used to the sea; and earned his scanty subsistence by diving for corals and oysters, which he sold to the villagers on shore. His long acquaintance with the sea at last brought it to be almost his natural element. He was frequently known to spend five days in the midst of the waves, without any other provisions than the fish which he caught there, and ate raw. He often swam over from Sicily into Calabria, a tempestuous and dangerous passage, carrying letters from the king. He was frequently known to swim among the gulfs of Lipari, no way apprehensive of danger.

"Some mariners out at sea one day observing something at a distance from them, regarded it as a sea-monster; but upon its approach it was known to be Nicholas, whom they took into their ship. When they asked him whither he was going in so stormy and rough a sea, and at such a distance from land, he showed them a packet of letters, which he was carrying to one of the towns of Italy, exactly done up in a leather bag, in such a manner that they could not be wetted by the sea. kept them company for some time in their voyage, conversing and asking questions; and, after eating with them, took his leave, and jumping into the sea, pursued his voyage alone.

He

"In order to aid these powers of enduring in the deep, nature seemed to have assisted him in a very extraordinary manner; for the spaces between his fingers and toes were webbed as in a goose: and his chest became so very capacious, that he was able, at one inspiration, to take in as much breath as would serve him a whole day.

"The account of so extraordinary a person did not fail to reach the king himself;

who commanded Nicholas to be brought before him. It was no easy matter to find Nicholas, who generally spent his time in the solitudes of the deep; but, at last, after much searching, he was discovered, and brought before his majesty. The curiosity of this monarch had long been excited by the accounts he had heard of the bottom of the gulf of Charybdis; he now therefore conceived that it would be a proper opportunity to obtain more certain information. He therefore commanded the poor diver to examine the bottom of this dreadful whirlpool; and, as an incitement to his obedience, he ordered a golden cup to be thrown into it. Nicholas was not insensible of the danger to which he was exposed; dangers best known only to himself, and therefore he presumed to remonstrate; but the hopes of the reward, the desire of pleasing the king, and the pleasure of showing his skill, at last prevailed. He instantly jumped into the gulf, and was as instantly swallowed up in its bosom. He continued for three quarters of an hour below, during which time the king and his attendants remained on shore anxious for his fate: but he at last appeared, holding the cup in triumph in one hand, and making his way good among the waves with the other. It may be supposed he was received with applause when he came on shore; the cup was made the reward of his adventure; the king ordered him to be taken proper care of; and, as he was somewhat fatigued and debilitated with his labour, after a hearty meal he was put to bed, and permitted to refresh himself with sleeping.

"When his spirits were thus restored, he was again brought before the king, to satisfy his curiosity with a narrative of the wonders he had seen; and his account was to the following effect :-He would never, he said, have obeyed the king's commands, had he been apprized of half the dangers that were before him. There were four things, he said, which rendered the gulf dreadful, not only to men but to the fishes themselves. 1. The force of the water bursting up from the bottom, which required great strength to resist. 2. The abruptness of the rocks, which on every side threatened destruction. 3. The force of the whirlpool dashing against these rocks. And, 4. The number and magnitude of the polypous fish, some of which appeared as large as a man; and which, every where sticking against the rocks projected their fibrous arms to entangle him. Being asked, how he was able so readily to find the cup that had been thrown

in, he replied, that it happened to be flung by te waves into the cavity of a rock against which he himself was urged in his descent. This account, however, did not satisfy the king's curiosity. Being requested once more to venture into the gulf for further discoveries, he at first refused: but the king, desirous of having the most accurate information possible of all things to be found in the gulf, repeated his solicitations; and to give them greater weight, produced a larger cup than the former, and added also a purse of gold. Upon these considerations the unfortunate diver once again plunged into the whirlpool, and was never heard of more."

This is Kircher's account, some assertions of whom will undoubtedly excite incredibility in the minds of all. I do not wish to offer any remarks, but leave your readers to form their own opinions.

People, by being accustomed to the water from their infancy, may often, at length, not only be enabled to stay much longer under water, but putting on a kind of amphibious nature, have the use of all their faculties as well under the water as on the dry land. Most savage nations are remarkable for this; and, even among ci vilized nations, many persons are found capable of continuing submerged for an incredible time.

I am, &c.
Hackney, May, 1827.

A. B.

COUNTRY LITTLE KNOWN.

We have to inform the public of a remarkable discovery, which, though partially disclosed by former travellers, has still remained, for the most part, a strange secret. It is this; that there is actually, at this present moment, and in this our own beautiful country of Great Britain, a large tract of territory, which to nine hundred and ninety-nine thousandths of our beloved countrymen is as much an undiscovered land as the other end of New South Wales, or the Pole which they have gone to find out. We have read of places in romance, which were more shut out by magic from people's eyes, though close to them, than if a fifty-foot wall encircled them. It would seem as if some such supernatural prohibition existed with regard to the land in question; for the extremities of it reach to within a short distance from the metropolis, which it surrounds on all sides; nay, we have heard of persons riding through it,

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without seeing any thing but a sign-post or some corn; and yet it is so beautiful, that it is called emphatically" the country."

It abounds in the finest natural produc. tions. The more majestic parts of it are at a distance, but the zealous explorer may come upon its gentler beauties in an incredibly short time. Its pastures and cattle are admirable. Deer are to be met with in the course of half a day's journey; and the traveller is accompanied, wherever he goes, with the music of singing birds. Immediately towards the south is a noble river, which brings you to an upland of the most luxuriant description, looking in the water like a rich-haired beauty in her glass: yet the place is in general solitary. Towards the north, at a less distance, are some other hilly spots of grond, which partake more of the rudely romantic, running however into scenes of the like sylvan elegance; and yet these are still more solitary. The inhabitants of these lands, called the country-people, seem, in truth, pretty nearly as blind to their merits as those who never see them; but their perceptions will doubtless increase, in proportion as their polished neighbours set the example. It should be said for them, that some causes, with which, we have nothing to do in this place, have rendered them duller to such impressions than they appear to have been a century or two ago; but we re eat, that they will not live in such scenes to no purpose, it those who know better take an interest in their improvement. Their children have an instinct that is wiser, till domestic cares do it away. They may be seen in the fields and green lanes, with their curly locks and brown faces, gathering the flowers which abound there, and the names of which are as pretty as the shapes and colours. They are called wild roses, primioses, violets, the rose campion, germander, stellaria, wild anemone, bird's-eye, daisies and buttercups, lady-smocks, ground-ivy, hare-bells or blue-bells, wake-robin, lillies of the valley, &c. &c. The trees are oaks, elms, birches, ash, poplar, willow, wild cherry, the flowering may-bush, &c. &c. all, in short, that we dote upon in pictures, and wish that we had about us when it is hot in Cheapside and Bond-street. It is perfectly transporting, in fine weather, like the present for instance, to lounge under the hedge-row elms in one of these sylvan places, and see the light smoke of the cottages fuming up among the green trees, the cattle grazing or lying about with a heavy placidity accordant to the time and scene, "painted jays" glancing about the glens,

the gentle hills sloping down into water, the winding embowered lanes, the leafy and flowery banks, the green oaks against the blue sky, their ivied trunks, the silverbodied and young-haired birches, and the mossy grass treble-carpeted after the vernal rains. Transporting is it to see all this; and transporting to hear the linnets, thrushes, and black birds, the grave gladness of the bee, and the stock-dove "brooding over her own sweet voice." And more transporting than all is it to be in such places with a friend, that feels like ourselves, in whose heart and eyes (especially if they have fair lids) we may see all our own happiness doubled, as the landscape itself is reflected in the waters.*

SPECTROLOGY.

A REMARKABLE NARRATIVE. Nicolai, the celebrated German bookseller, a member of the royal society of Berlin, presented to that institution a memoir on the subject of a complaint with which he was affected, and one of the singular consequences of which was, the representation of various spectres. M Nicolai for some years had been subject to a congestion in the head, and was blooded frequently for it by leeches. After a detailed account of the state of his health, on which he grounds much medical as well as psychological reasoning, he gives the following interesting narrative :—

In the first two months of the year 1791, I was much affected in my mind by several incidents of a very disagreeable nature; and on the 24th of February a circumstance occurred which irritated me extremely. At ten o'clock in the forenoon my wife and another person came to console me; I was in a violent perturbation of mind, owing to a series of incidents which had altogether wounded iny moral feelings, and from which I saw no possibility of relief: when suddenly I observed at the distance of ten paces from me a figure-the figure of a deceased person. I pointed at it, and asked my wife whether she did not see it. She saw nothing, but being much alarmed endeavoured to compose me, and sent for the physician. The figure remained some seven or eight minutes, and at length I became a little more calm; and as I was extremely exhausted, I soon afterwards fell into a troubled kind of slumber, which

The Indicator.

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