often surprised me. That there are teachers amongst the body who break-in the youth, and instruct them after the manner that other arts are taught, there can be very little doubt, after one has paid attention to the performances. I do not know whether or not they have the secret of the plan, (invented by Sir R. Steele,) which was to enable a scholar to fix and present to the eye, by means of musical scores, the principles of elocution, so that the key, the tone of voice and manner, in which a passage in prose or verse has been delivered, may be perpetuated with exactness or whether they endeavour to fit a particular cry to the organs of a particular person, upon the principle of the man, who, being to make a speech once for a lord mayor, begged first of all to know the measure of his lordship's mouth. All these points I hand over to persons of more penetration than myself. But I am often in a humour to lose sight of even all these distinguishing perfections in a sort of gratitude, rather vaguely felt I admit, for the existence of such a profession. No man that has not been thoughtridden for a whole week, can understand what I feel, when, in a garret closely pent, and dozing out the day in forgetfulness of every mortal care, I am recalled to a sense of society, by a lusty stave from below. It is then that I pay the greatest veneration to the faculty,-it is then that I look upon them as that link which connects the oblivious with the active part of humanity. "It is a pleasure," says Lucretius by the mouth of Lord Bacon, " to stand upon the sea-shore, and to see ships tossed upon the sea: a pleasure to stand in the window of a castle, and to see a battle and the adventures thereof below;" but nothing, in my mind, can equal the joy of him, who being solitary and comfortless, hears the roar of "mackerel," "cod's head," or "whiting," in the street, at the distance of three pair backward. Long Chancery-lane retentive rolls the sound, A friend of mine, who has lost one of the healthiest looks I have ever seen in the study of acoustics, (he shows his pale cheek with as much pride as a soldier does his wounds,) assures me, that the music of the London Cries can be brought to that perfection, that a person might be metaphorically fed through the ear, and never be asked to use his teeth, by a proper adjustment of the sounds. Particular notes, he says, might convey the taste, flavour, and even nourishment of a particular article of food, to the plenary satisfaction of-I suppose we may at present say-the patient. I do not know, indeed, if Milton had not an eye-or for two reasons in his case, I should say, an ear to this very invention, in the following lines, which I dare say, up to this moment have been regarded as a very ordinary piece of poetry— And ever against EATING cares, Lap me in soft Lydian (London) airs, &c. &c. But perhaps, after all, there cannot be found a more excellent use of the compositions we have been considering, than the insight which they give into the natural history of the country, the manners and luxuries of the people. Some study the character of a people in their proverbs, the theatres have been selected by others for this purpose, others again look for it in their writings. The most rational medium for observation is, as it strikes me, the business of the itinerant body, whom I thus humbly endeavour to celebrate. There is not a day that you may not have at their hands specimens of some of the choicest productions of nature in the animal or vegetable kingdom. You have, as it were, in the streets a living museum, with the eminent peculiarity attending it, that many of the properties of a particular class of productions may be ascertained in it, in the most satisfactory manner. Thus the rarity or abundance of any species. of fish-the season when it is most easily found-the length of time during which it can live out of water-its power of resisting putrefaction, and many other curious facts relating to it, may all be familiarly acquired by the meanest capacity without trouble. I own I would not wish for a more accurate calendar for declaring the progress of the seasons, than this very interesting order affords. The Spring, the Summer, the Autumn, are unfolded in the most agreeable manner in the abundant succession of flowers, of fruits, and esculents that attract and confound the senses of the metropolitans at every turn. Verily the country doth come to town to keep her terms with the goodly city" Nempe inter varias nutritur fiora columnas." And when at last stern Winter comes to sadden the year-dejecting prospect!-what an exemplary sample do these missionaries of nourishment hold out, of that provident temper which the ancient sage does so cunningly recommend in the well-known apologue of the ant and the fly. It is they who remember to some purpose that there is a time when nature puts not forth or fruit or herb,-that there is a time when fishermen may not put to sea;-it is they who will lay up for that blank interval a plentiful store of necessaries, and distribute them in the moment of need amongst their fellow-beings. But with still greater precision, than in the case of our natural history, may the state of our domestic living be illustrated by the London cries. There cannot be a better criterion of the advanced condition of our culinary conveniences than the familiar chants-" Pots and pans, and kettles to mend." "Who'll buy my wooden ware," and such like. The cry of "mats," of which the species is very multiplied,--that of "brooms,"—"white stone," &c. let the enquirer into our very houses almost, and shew in a very satisfactory way the degree to which we carry the love of cleanliness. Then there are catches about "band-boxes,” "knives or scissars to grind,” “matches," &c. which declare the scale of our minor comforts. There is, lastly, a well-known cry which specifies in terms, indeed, the peculiar animals which have been domesticated amongst us for our amusement and use. I believe I have now stated enough to induce the public to think more respectfully of this interesting order in future. I am not bound to notice here the various reflections that have been from time out of mind cast upon this body, especially the female characters. Every profession embraces some few who are unworthy of it: and should the ladies belonging to this calling be reproached with an abuse of the liberty of speech, we should remember, that it is a fault incident to that power which Mr. Canning has actually called "the gift of the gab," and has been found in all other public speakers since the time of Nestor. I do not find much mention of any similar community in ancient history; but there is evidence that they were a numerous class in Rome. It would appear to me, that Cicero himself had been permanently retained by them to cry up the profession. It is remarkable that he was always twitching the shop-keepers, and endeavouring to lower their rank as much as possible. No doubt this class must have been at Rome, as they are in London, a great weight upon the commercial activity of the itinerant branch. At last he fairly said, and in his Offices too, which contain nothing but his wellconsidered opinions,-" Nothing liberal can ever be in a shop." He goes on then with a terrible tirade against fishmongers, cooks, and all those who minister unto the luxuries of mankind. But lest he should be supposed to comprehend in these sweeping denunciations, that particular craft, which he either feared or loved, or was feed to support, he records the following very remarkable expressions: "Sin magua, copiosa, multa undique adportans, multisque sine vanitate impertiens, non est admodum vituperanda." It may, lastly, be objected to me, that, considered as a vocal company, the performers of the London cries are sometimes guilty of the fault of not being very intelligible. Now in this particular (and be it observed they are the most accessible of human beings to any personal enquiries) they only imitate some of the most popular singers of the day-to say nothing of a certain celebrated senator, and a number of other noble authorities, over all of whom they have this cardinal advantage, that to be understood, their words need only be thoroughly heard, whilst the patrician unintelligibles will articulate in your very ear and multiply explanations at your bidding, but bring you in the end not a jot nearer to their meaning. It has been ruled, I understand, by the proper quarter, that it is a crime for a poet to build a house. We cannot than expect to behold the tokens of prosperity displayed by these pilgrims of Parnassus in costly habitations. Some have doubted if the power of song is capable of so marvellous an achievement as that of constructing a house, much less a whole street: I refer all such sceptics to the case of Thebes. I do not mean to say that it is likely that the architectural properties of the inspired throng will be put into requisition for another season or so. In the meantime what can be done in these degenerate times is done. The glory of building a city stands first, and is undoubtedly the property of Amphion; the glory of nourishing a city is entitled to the second place, and that as undoubtedly belongs to the itinerant professors of the London Cries. W. * Which I take the liberty of rendering into familiar English thus : "But shew me a worthy fishwoman who goes into every street and alley with a goodly quantity of fine fat mackerel, flounders, or other commodity, serving a great many therewith and assuming no airs of importance for doing the same; shew me such a one, and I will say that she is not to be sneered at.”—1 Lib. de Officiis. THE KING IN IRELAND. MR. EDITOR,-The reception which the King has experienced in Ireland having created some curious speculations on both sides of the Channel, perhaps you would excuse a few remarks upon the subject, from one not altogether mystified by its exaggerations. Although not an Irishman by birth, still a long residence in that country has given me some insight into the character of its people; and I mention the fact, as well to exculpate me from the charge of presumption, as to assure you of the authenticity of my statements. The subject indeed originates many observations, obvious to none except a local observer, or to one at least well acquainted with the secret springs by which so discordant a population has been set, for the first time, unanimously in motion. That there was much of loyalty in the abstract, and much of sincere affection for the visitor personally, there can be no doubt; but that much of what appeared enthusiasm arose entirely from the workings of interest there is in my mind just as little. Some attention to the contingencies upon the King's reception will make this clear enough to every understanding. Now, Sir, however I, in common with every good subject, may rejoice in the proverbial hospitality with which the King personally has been welcomed, still I must confess the contingencies to which I allude have lowered that people considerably in my estimation. Little disturbed either shall I be if those individual or even national advantages shall not soon be realized, which were so ostentatiously sought after by the sordid compromise of all that was pure, dignified, or patriotic. Before I advert more particularly to the immediate subject of this notice, some short retrospect is necessary, as well to shew why a British king, landing as a friend in Ireland, should have been in the native phrase "heartily welcome," as why that welcome should more particularly wait upon the reigning monarch. You will observe by this, that I take no exception to the popular courtesy as far as regards the sovereign himself, nor indeed in impugning the idolatry lavished upon any one of his attendants, do I mean to infer that the idol was not worthy, however vilely and sordidly, and hypocritically inconsistent might have been some of the worshippers. Henry the Second was the first royal visitor of Ireland. Perhaps, until the present day, for visitor we should read invader. Invited over by the distress of one prince to punish the adulteries of another, he made the weakness of the first and the vices of the last the convenient threshold to his own ambition. With, for that day, an imposing power, and an hypocrisy not less imposing, he marched onward from Waterford to Cashel, amid affected submission and extorted homage, and at last, in full assembly in the latter city, pleaded the authority of the infallible Adrian for his personal usurpation of the kingdom! The Irish, even then, priest-ridden and pope-led as they were, had still some jealousy of ecclesiastical interference in their temporal concerns, and Adrian's bull met as little respect from the "Royal Roderic" of that day as Quarantotti's rescript did in our own time from the radicals of the Catholic convention. Thus was Henry, with the bull in one hand and the sword in other, obliged alternately to fight and swindle his way through the country, until at last the Shannon waters and the wastes of Connaught obliged him to make Dublin, for the first time, the winter residence of a British monarch. There, surrounded by fanatics and impostors, whom he bribed to his purposes by the plunder of the people, he spent his Christmas, praying with priests and revelling with savages, and returned to England to mature his frauds upon the hollow allegiance which he left behind him. The throat of Irish patriotism is hoarse lauding the princely grandeur, and lamenting the feudal magnificence upon which Henry intruded; and yet, strange to say, even in the proud metropolis of Milesian legitimacy, the "red branch knights" could afford him no better refuge against the snows of winter than "a mud edifice," made of twigs and briers rudely huddled together! After this authenticated fact, we should be little surprised if the Irish legitimates-the genuine "O'Conors Don" of the twelfth century, disputed with Nebuchadnezzar the monopoly of running at grass, at least during the dog-days. The next visit was that of John, of Magna Charta memory. He staid three months in Ireland, during which time it was not stained by any military outrage. He was employed, however, in parcelling out those king's lands which the rapacity of his predecessors had usurped, and the boundaries which he established shew, that even then his regal dominion was both limited and uncertain. For many subsequent ages the British monarchs were too much occupied at home to afflict Ireland, otherwise than by deputed persecution; and her fields were alternately scorched and crimsoned, and depopulated, without even the consolation of a royal presence. At length, however, she received the master-pestilence. With the impiety of a bigot and the despotism of a republican, Cromwell came came to fire the castle with the embers of the church, and quench the altar's flame in the blood of its adorers. In August, 1650, he landed with a considerable military force in Dublin, and in a fortnight after commenced in the town of Drogheda a most frightful series of massacre and conflagration. War went before and famine followed him;-his whole march might easily be tracked by its wake of extermination. With that blasphemous mixture of fanaticism and murder, which peculiarised the career of that bible-mouthed cut-throat, he persuaded his followers that they should model their treatment of the natives on that adopted towards the Canaanites in the time of Joshua! The devil quoted Scripture to his purpose; and indeed such a purpose was easily inculcated on such, a fraternity. The ruthless system scarcely left in three-fourths of Ireland, a solitary native to record and curse the inhumanity of his usurpation. All who professed the religion of their ancestors were driven into the wilds of Connaught, and a proclamation was issued, stating, that if after a certain day, any Irish Catholic, man, woman, or child, should be found in any other part of the kingdom, they might be legally put to death, without either charge or trial! This proclamation, involving, as it did, confiscation and banishment, was denominated by the usurper an act of grace, because it was his re |