inhabited with all manner of wild beasts and birds of various shapes and colours, even to beasts of prey, as wolves, bears, panthers, leopards, sables, and beavers; likewise dogs, cats, foxes, and rabbits, which tossed up now and then into a balcony fell oft upon the company's heads, and by them tossed again into the crowd, afforded great diversion; melodious harmony likewise allayed the fury of the wild beasts, who were continually moving, dancing, curvetting, and tumbling to the music." On the alteration of the style, the swearing in of the lord mayor and the accompanying show, which had been on the 29th of October, was changed to the 9th of November. The speeches in the pageants were usually composed by the city poet, an officer of the corporation, with an annual salary, who provided a printed description for the members of the corporation before the day. Settle, the last city poet, wrote the last pamphlet intended to describe a lord mayor's show; it was for sir Charles Duncombe's, in 1708, but the prince of Denmark's death the day before, prevented the exhibition. The last lord mayor who rode on horseback at his mayoralty was sir Gilbert Heathcote in the reign of queen Anne. It will be remarked after this perusal, that the modern exhibitions have no pretension to vie with the grandeur of the old "London triumphs." In 1760, the court of common council recommended pageants to be exhibited for the entertainment of their majesties on lord mayor's day. Such revivals are inexpedient, yet probably some means might be devised for improving the appearance of the present procession, without further expenditure from the city funds, or interfering with the public appropriation of the allowance for the support of the civic dignity. All that remains of the lord mayor's show, to remind the curiously informed of its ancient character, is in the first part of the procession, wherein the poor men of the company to which the lord mayor belongs, or persons hired to represent them, are habited in long gowns and close caps of the company's colour, and bear painted shields on their arms, but without javelins. So many of these head the show, as there are years in the lord mayor's age. Their obsolete costume and hobbling walk are sport for the unsedate, who, from imperfect tradi tion, year after year, are accustomed to call them "old bachelors"-tongues less polite call them "old fogeys.” The numerous band of gentlemen-ushers in velvet coats, wearing chains of gold and bearing white staves, is reduced to halfa-dozen full-dressed footmen, carrying umbrellas in their hands. The antiquarian reminiscences occasioned by the throwing o substances that stone-eaters alone would covet, from the tops of the houses, can arise no more; and even the giants in Guildhall are elevated upon octagon stone columns, to watch and ward the great west window, in no other than a gigantic capacity: their proper situation they were displaced from some few years ago, owing, it is presumed, to lack of in formation in the civic authorities, that figures of giants anciently belonged to Guildhall, and that their corporate station was at the Guildhall door. In their present station, they are as much out of place as a church weathercock would be if it were removed from the steeple, and put on the sounding board of the pulpit. This personage has obtained himself to be sketched and lithographed. It is a true portraiture of his dress and form, but not of his face. By way of denoting his pretension to "deathless notoriety," it has these few expressive words beneath it; namely," Without equal in nature or art, this or in any other age or globe." Afterwards follows this intimation, "Published as the act directs, by Mr. Leeming, London, October, 1825." In vain did he solicit the printsellers to sell the prints for five shillings each. Although he had coupled it with written intimation that he is "the Ærial invaluable," and that after his decease will be inscribed on his tomb, "If this was not a gentleman, he would not have been buried in christian burial," yet the publishers were impenetrable to his "assurance," and therefore before and after, and on Guy Fawkes's day, a man was employed to walk the streets with a board bearing a couple of the impressions pasted thereon, the said man bearing also unpasted ones, "to all who choose to buy them" at one shilling each. The first public intimation of this "phenomenon," is in the Times of Saturday, July 2, 1825:—“An individual in a splendid dress of Spanish costume has excited much attention at Vauxhall gardens. Having walked or rather skipped round the promenade, with a great air of consequence, saluting the company as he passed along, he at length mingled amongst the audience in the front of the orchestra, and distributed a number of cards, on each of which was written, 'The Ærial challenges the whole world to find a man that can in any way compete with him as such.' After having served about three or four hundred of these challenges, he darted off like lightning, taking the whole circuit of the gardens in his career, and made his exit through the grand entrance into the road where a carriage was in waiting for him, into which he sprang, and was driven off." Postponing a few particulars of this visitation of Vauxhall by "The Erial" for a minute or two, we proceed to state that he declares himself "an Adonis; that to glad the eyes of artists with a view of his uncommon person, he condescended to leave the good town of Manchester by the common stage coach, and that assuming the disguise of common dress, like Apollo in "Midas" after expulsion from the celestials, he arrived in London on the day of June. Dull as he found this me tropolis to personal merit, yet, to his "Agreeable Surprise," there were some who said in the language of Lingo:— "Such beauties in view I Can never praise too high." Sculptors and painters of eminence to whom he proffered disclosure of his elegant person were honoured by visits from him. He represents some interviews to this effect. Sir Thomas Lawrence, the president of the royal academy, gazed upon him, and inquired what "he considered the essential principle of man ?" the Erial immediately answered "the thigh." Sir Thomas insensible to the mundane charms before him, observed that he thought the beauties of the mind should be preferred to those of the body, and therefore suggested the propriety of his cultivating mental beauty. This was an indignity, for it was opposed to the theory maintained by the Erial, that mental beauty results from personal beauty. Mr. Haydon was not quite so shocking; he admitted to, and to the cost of, the Erial, as will hereafter appear, that he had 66 a beautiful leg." His oral developement of his sylph-like perfections to Mr. Chantry, induced that gentleman to decline prolongation of the interview, and to say he should at once call himself Ærial, and from that moment he did. Mr. Behnes told him that he was "no conjuror," and that every body laughed at him. The Ærial was not to be so subdued, nor by such means humbled He deemed them to be the sayings of envy. His organ of self-esteem attained a new swell, and in harmonious strength he rose like Antæus from the dust, a giant refreshed. He conceives that he is the most beautiful person in the world, and hence besides calling himself "the Erial," the "New Discovery," and "the Great Unknown," he adds "the Paragon of Perfection," "the Phoenix," "the God of Beauty," and "the Grand Arcana of Nature." Some one intimated that arcanum would be correct; he said, he did not choose to hum, and he was "not to be hummed." It was hinted that he might assume the name of Apollo; he turned from the speaker with contempt "Apollo is nothing compared with me: there is no figure to compete with me in any respect, except the Achilles in the park, which may be somewhat like me in the under part of the foot upon the ground, but upon that it is impossible to determine with accuracy, unless the figure flew from the pedestal." every room in London was denied to him, except on degrading conditions which people "without souls" are accustomed to require on such applications. Could he have obtained one friend to have gone shares with him, the summum bonum might have been obtained. If only one monied man would have advanced with capital, the Erial would have advanced in person. It was to have been an exhibition by candlelight, for candlelight he said was indispensable to produce "extreme height," and render him in common eyes "a giant." This effect of exhibition by candlelight would be, he said, a discovery;" and therefore he added to himself the title of the "New Discovery." He is five feet one inch and a quarter high. Some one unthinkingly conversing in his presence, stated him to be five feet one inch and a half; the Arial corrected the inaccuracy with severity. "A quarter, sir," he said; "five feet one and a quar ter, sir; mine is the perfect height; a quarter of an inch more would be higher, "new a quarter of an inch less would be lower than the standard of perfection!" He relates, that he visited Dr. Thornton, who lectures at the Marlborough rooms, in Great Marlborough-street, on "craniology, botany, chemistry, astronomy, vision, hearing, the circulation of the blood, digestion, and the beneficial effects produced by the different gases in the cure of diseases." He inquired of this gentleman whether he thought "an exhibition of something never before seen under the sun, and which, when seen, people would fall down and worship, would be likely to take?" The doctor inquired what the "something" was; the Ærial answered by inquiring which of all the exhibitions was likely to be the most successful; the doctor answered," the panorama of London in the Regent'spark when it opens." "But what do you think an infinitely more attractive exhibition will produce." "It is impossible to say-perhaps 20,000l. a year; but what is yours?"-" You shall see-but not now -to-morrow." On the morrow the Ærial came with a small bundle; and having obtained permission to retire therewith, alone to a room, promised to return in a few minutes, and cheer the sight of the excess of light," the Ærial purposed to doctor and his family with a more asto- let himself in upon the public by degrees. nishing production of nature than the At his chambers in Thavies-inn, he prodoctor or all mankind born before him cured the attendance of a person to had seen, or after ages could see. mould that limb, which Mr. Haydon, During his absence, the doctor's house- from inability to duly appreciate the rest hold were on tiptoe expectation till the of his body, had denominated “a beautilong-looked-at door opened, when the ful leg." The operation was so tedious, Ærial entered in a close-fitting dress, and that the mould was not completed till walking to the middle of the room, threw eleven o'clock in the evening. It was out his chest and left arm, and projecting then carried away for the purpose of his right arm behind, cried, "Behold!" being cast, but the Erial suspected "all Determined on an immediate public was not right," and " convinced," he exhibition, the Ærial conceived the idea says, "that the artist was sitting up to of a new joint stock company, "capital surreptitiously take a thousand casts from one million;" for which "good and valu- it, in the course of the night, and sell them able consideration, he proposed to put all over the country," he jumped into a himself at the disposition of the come hackney, between one and two in the pany "so soon as the subscription was morning, and caused the coachman to filled up." To certain observations of drive him "as fast as the horses could the chancellor against the "new compa- go," to the artist's house. The coachnies," the Ærial attributed a general in- man, then he, the door-knocker seized, Acquiring experience from disappoint. ment, and deeming that the wonder of his person might be as insupportable as made to several individuals, with a view tabering, with frapping rip rap." The to arrangements for bringing him "into drowsy servant roused from slumber, the market." He resolved to speculate "creeping like snail, unwillingly" opened on his own account; the first thing to the street door; the Erial called out be obtained was a "grand room;" but "where's my leg! I'm come for my leg!" the proprietor of the Egyptian-hall" and, seizing" the candle," rushed to the was deaf to the voice of the charmer, and workroom, which to his astonishment was in darkness till illumined by his presence, and the light he bore in his hand. On seeing the mould of his leg in the basket just as it had been brought, he seized and bore it off to his own home, and after this achievement slept in peace. In the morning he carried it himself to another place, and having had a cast taken from it in his own presence, conveyed both away, and meditated how "all might see, and having seen, admire." Finally, he deposited the cast with Mr. Cottrell, at his "last and boot-tree manufactory," No. 125, (near Leather-lane,) Holborn, upon a promise that it should be exhibited in the shop window without note or comment: it will speak for itself," he said. He frequently made kind inquiries as to this portional representation of himself, till he was informed, that "two hundred pounds had been bid for it:" this was not enough. On a subsequent interview, he was acquainted that " another person said he was willing to give three hundred for it." This undervaluation was decisive. "Such people," he said, “shall not have a part of my person: give me my leg; plenty now will desire an entire cast of me: I will submit to it for the sake of the world for a thousand pounds; no less: here is my address, let any one who desires it come to me." He once more resumed the actual possession of the cast, but no one came, and he pondered in vain to account for the motives of "the world." At length, by accident, he let the cast fall and broke it; this he entirely destroyed. He next sought how to dispose of the mould without disgrace to it, or to himself. Sudden and quick in parpose, he resolved to bury it in the ocean. The mail carried him to Dover, and from on board a steam-vessel, when midway between England and France, he let it down to the bed of the sea, as to the bed of honour, and "left it alone in its glory." After this funeral excursion, which had extended to Calais, he was, on Monday, the 29th of August, at the public office, Marlborough-street. The newspapers the name of Joseph Leeming ;-whether to an immoderate love of the grape, or malt, was to be attributed the inclination of Joseph Leeming matters not, a serious charge of drunkenness, and its almost certain offspring, a riotous comportment in his majesty's highway, was made against him. When it was demanded what part of the metropolis was dignified by the sojourn of Joseph, he replied, No. 20, Newman-street, where he had tarried about a week. Indeed, Joseph, by his own avowal, is of the swallow nature-one of those roving sons of fortune who fillip the world aside, and cock their hat at fate. With this disposition he seldom remains more than a week anywhere, perhaps he thinks with Virgil, that in no fixed place the happy souls reside,' and therefore puts his happiness in quick migration. He had come direct from Calais. And pray, sir,' said the magistrate, what was your business at Calais ?' My business?' retorted Joseph Leeming, business, indeed!'— Well, sir,' replied the magistrate, making due acknowledgment for having imagined that Joseph Leeming could have any business, 'what was your pleasure?' but our hero was not to be catechised in this manner, yet feeling that his dependence on his powers were gradually relaxing, he sent for an artist to astonish the world by a publication of that fame which the modesty of Joseph Leeming kept concealed. The messenger said the artist was not at home, but he learned from a man at the house, that Joseph Leeming was, what no one could have discovered, namely, a conjuror; and then came the grand discovery which we have now to relate. England is now the museum of the world; she has balloons, fighting-dogs, fighting-men, giantesses, and griping churchmen. Mr. Leeming, with a laudable spirit to improve the number of these curiosities, and to distend the jaws of public wonderment somewhat wider, had hit upon a plan by which he might fly through the air and wage an equal battle with rooks and magpies. He had purposed, by the aid of a pair of patent wings, (to be had only of the inventor,) to fly from one of the Dover cliffs down into the town of Calais, or, upon extraordinary occasions, to light upon Paris gates, thereby saving a world of trouble resulting from passports and gendarmerie. However, nothing is more uncertain than the resolve of genius, Mr. |
