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¦ ¦ ... t .... ,,.-. '. ,: ¦¦- October 4...
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BEAUTIES OF BYRON. ko. xm, "CHILDE H1R0L...
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&emttos
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ITHE PURGATORY OF SUICIDES, A ]?bisoi. B...
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THE WANDERING JEW. By Eugene Sue. People...
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* Lucretius. . ., T ,-f „ t "In reading ...
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€it Mte
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" He was Locked Up."—Who was locked up ?...
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Transcript
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Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
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¦ ¦ ... T .... ,,.-. '. ,: ¦¦- October 4...
¦ ¦ ... t .... _,,.-. ' . ,: ¦¦ - _October 4 _> m & _i TflE _F _^ ¦ .,. ¦ .. „_¦ _.,., --- ' : - : _"J- " '
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Beauties Of Byron. Ko. Xm, "Childe H1r0l...
BEAUTIES OF BYRON . ko . xm , "CHILDE H 1 R 0 LD . " We think we may appropriately introduce the _following beautiful stanzas , as __
BIROS S NICHI THOUGHTS . 'Sis night , when meditation bids us feel Ve once have loved , though love is at an end : The heart , lone mourner of its baffled zeal , Though friendless now , wiU dream it had a friend . Who mth the weight of years Wetdd wish to Lend , "When youth itself Mirrives young _loVC Mid joy ! Alas J when mingling souls forget to blend , Death hath but little left him to destroy ! Ah ! happy years : once more who would not be a boy ! Thus bending o ' er the vessel ' s laving side , To _gaie on Man ' s wave-reflectedspbere , The soul forgets her schemes of Hope and Pride , And flies unconscious o ' er each backward year , Sone are so desolate but something dear , Dearer than self , possesses or _possess'd A thought , and claims the homage of a tear : a _^ flashing pang I of which the weiry breast Would still , albietin vain , the heavy heart diveat .
To sit oa rocks , to muse o ' er flood and fell , To slowly trace the forest's shady scene , Where things tiatoirn not man ' s dominion dwell , And mortal -footbath ne ' er or rarely been ; To climb the trackless mountains all unseen , With the wild flock that never needs a fold ; Alone o ' er steeps , and foaming falls to lean ; This is not solitude ; ' tis but to hold Converse with _"Nature ' s charms , and view her stores nnroll'd . Hut , "midst the crowd , the hum , the shock of men , 'To hear , to see , to feel , and to possess , And roam along , the world ' s tired denizen , ** 3 _* Ith none who bless us , none whom we can bless : Minions of splendour shrinking from distress ! JXone that with kindred consciousness endued , JIf -we were not , wonld seem to smile the less Of all that flatter _^ , followed , sought , and sued , _tfhis is tobe alone : this , this is solitude !
More blest * the life of godly eremite , Such as on lonely A thos may be seen , 'Watching at eve upon the giant height ! Which looks o ' er waves so blue , skies so serene , "That he who there at such an hour hath been "Will wistful linger on that hallow'd spot , Theu slowly tear him from the witching scene , Sigh iortb one wist that such had been his lot , TEhea tarn to hate a world he had almost forgot . The following stanzas open the story of the "Childe ' s" pilgrimage through Albania : mark kow -surpassingly beautiful is the first stanza .:
—Dear * _hature is the kindest mother still , Though always changing , in her aspect mild ; Prom her hare bosom let me take my fill , Her never-iveaned , though notherfavour'd child . Oh ! she is fairest in her features wild , "Where nothing polished dates pollute her path : To me by day or night she ever smiled , Though I _haremark'd her when none other hath , And sought ber more and more , and loved her best in wrath . Land of Albania ! where Iskander * rose , Theme ef tbe young , nnd beacon of the wise , Asd he his namesake , whose oft-baffled foes Shrunk from his deeds of chivalrous _empriza ; Land of Albania It let me bend mine eyes On thee , thou rugged nurse of savage men ! The cross descends , tby minarets arise , And the pale crescent sparkles in the glen , Through many a cypress grove within each city ' s ken .
Childe Harold sail'd and pass'd the barren spot _^ _"here sad Penelope o ' crlook'd the wave , J And onward viewM the mount , not yet forgot _^ The lover ' s refuge and the Lesbian ' s grave . Dark Sappho ! could not verse immortal save That breast imbued with such immortal fire ? Could she not live who Bfe eternal gave ! If life eternal may await the lyre , That only Heaven to which Earth ' s children may aspire * * * * Here the red cross , for stiU the cross is here , "Though sadly scoff * d at by the circumcised , forgets that pride to pamper'd priesthood dear ; Churchman and votary alike despised -Poul Superstition ! howsoever disguised Idol , saint , vigin , prophet , crescent , cross , Por whatsoever symbol thou art prized , Thou sacerdotal gain , but general loss ' . Who from true worship ' s gold can separate thy dross !
Arabracia ' s gulf behold , where once was lost A world for woman , lovely , harmless thing ! In yonder rippling bay their naval host . Didinanya _JRonian chief and Asian king To doubtful conflict , certain slaughter bring : J Look where tlie second _Ciesars trophies rose ! -2 _Tow , like the hands that rear _ed them , withering , Imperial anarchs , doubling human woes ! Sod I was thy globe ordain'd for such to win and lose ? * . # * # Oh ! where Dodonal is thine aged grove , Prophetic fount , and oracle divine ? "What valley echoed the response of Jove ? "What trace remaineth of the thunderer ' s shrine ! All , an forgotten—and shall man repine That his frail bonds to fleeting llfeare broke I Cease , fool ] lhe fate of gods may weB be thine : Would ' st thou survive the marble or the oak ! When nations , tongues , and worlds must sink beneath the stroke !
We are compelled to pass by the stanzas , perhaps equally as beautiful as the above , descriptive ot Albanian life , and the poet ' s interview with the famous and terrible Aii Pacha . For the " beauties" of these picturesque stanzas , including the semi-brigand song commencing Tambourgi ! Tambourgi ! thy larum afar Gives hopes to the valiant , and promise of war ; we must refer the reader to the poem itself ; from the notes to which they will also glean much interesting information concerning the country of Albania .
Utrox was attended by two Albanians for a consideral Je time , and , speaking of their fidelity , he says , men " more faithful in peril or indefatigable in service" he never found . When in the Morea , in 1810 , the pi . * t was seized with a dangerous fever , and these two men nursed liim " with an attention which would have done honour to civilization . " The one was a Turk [ Mahometan ] named Dervish Tahiri ; the other an Infidel [ Christian ] named _Bas ' ilius , The poet thus describes his leave-taking with these attendants : —
When preparations were made for my return , my Albanians were summoned to receive their pay . _JBasilius took bis with an awkward show of regret at my intended departure , and -marched away to his quarters with his bag of piastres . I sent for Dervish , but for some time he was not to be found ; at last he entered , just as Signor Logotheti , father tc the ci-devant Anglo-consul of Athens , and some other of my Greek acquaintances , paid me a visit . Dervish took the money , bat on a sudden dashed it to the ground ; and clasping Ins hands , wluch _Leraissd to his forehead , rushed ont of the room weeping Utterly . - From that moment to the hour of my embarkation , he continued his lamentations , and all our efforts to console Mm only produced this answer— "He leaves me . " Signor Logotheti , who never wept before for anything less than the loss of a para ( about the fourth of a
farthing ) , melted ; the padre of the convent , my attendants , my-visitors—and I verily believe that even Sterne ' s "foolish fat scullion" would have left her "fish-kettle" to sympathise with the unaffected sorrow of this barbarian . Por my own part , when I remembered that , a short time before my departure from England , a noble and most intimate associate-had excused himself from taking leave of-me because he -had to attend a relation " to miUinei ' s / ' I felt no less -surprised thanhumiliatedby the present occurrence and the past recollection . That fDervish wonld leave me with some regret was to be expected ; when master and man have been scrambling over-the mountains of a dozen provinces together , they - -are -anwillmg to separate ; but his present feelings , contrasted with his native ferocity , Improved my opinion of - . Use , human heart .
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Ithe Purgatory Of Suicides, A ]?Bisoi. B...
_ITHE PURGATORY OF SUICIDES , A ]? bisoi . Bhtme is Tex Books . By Thomas Coopeb . the ¦ Chartist . London : J . How , 132 , Fleet-street .
( Continued from ihe Star of Septenmr Sth . ) The foUowing purely poetical and trul y beautiful -stanzas , forming the exordium to the fourth book , -appear to _havebeen suggested by the singing ofa irobin on the window-grating of the poet-prisoner ' s _. _oelLWelcome , sweet ltobin!—welcome , cheerful one ! 5 Vhy dost thon slight the merry fields of corn , — The sounds of human joy ,. —the plenty strown From Autumn ' s teeming lap , —and , at gray morn , Ere the snn wakes , sing to the things of scorn And infamy and want and sadness whom Their stronger fellow-criminals have torn JFrom freedom and the gladsome light of home—¦ ¦ Io quench the nobler spark within , in dungeon'd gloom
"Why dost thon choose , throughout the live-long day , A prison rampart for thy perch , and sing As thou _tvouldst rend thy fragile throat ? Away ! 3 Iy little friend , away , npon light wing , A while , —beyond this house of suffering ! Away 3—andl will watch for thy return , — Thinking , meanwhile , how , by the silver spring Mantled with golden lilies , thou dost turn Thy p retty head awry , so meaningly , and yearn , i * Iskander is the Turkish word for Alexander . I Albania comp rises part of . Macedonia , Illyria , Chaop ! and JEpirus . _-f Ithaca . § The battle of AcUum .
Ithe Purgatory Of Suicides, A ]?Bisoi. B...
From out that beaming look , to know what thoughts , * WitMn the , _barb-leaved hart ' s-tongue dwell—The purple eye pet ailed with snow , " that floats So gracefully : —dost think the _damosel , Young Hope , kirtled with Chastity , there fell Into the stream , and grewa flower so fair ? Ah ! still thou linger ' st , while I , dreaming , tell OfpleasuresI would reap , if free I were , — - Like thee , —to breathe sweet Freedom ' s balmy air , Away {—for this is not a clime for thee—Sweet childhood ' s sacred One'i ' The hawthorns bend With ruddy fruitage : tiny _trtJPps , with glee Plundering the mellow wealth , a shout will send Aloft , if they behold their feathered friend , Loved "Itobiu Hedbroast , " nii » gle wilh their joy ! Did tl ey not watch thy tenderlings , and wend With eager steps , when school was o ' er , a coy And wistful peep to take—lest some rude ruffian boy ,
With Sacrilegious heart and hand , should rob Thy nest as heathenl _* ,- as if •¦ Heaven ' s bird " Were not more sacred th on the vulgar mob Of pies and crows ! Flee , —loved one!—thou hast heard This dissonance of bolts and bars that gird Old England ' s modern slaves , until thy sense Of freedom ' s music will be sepulchred : —¦ Hie to yon jocund band of innocence , And , ' mid their rapture , pour thy hear t ' s mellifluence ! Still linger ' st thou upon that dreary wall AY'hich bars , so enviously , my view of grove , And stream , and hill , —as if it were death ' s pall ? 0 leave this tyrant-hold , —and , joyous rove—Loved bird of Home , —bird of our father ' s love , — Where the thatched cottage , clad with late-blown rose , And sweetbriar , and rosemary , thickly wove " With the dwarf . vine , its nectared garland shews Unto the amorous bees that ' midst its sweets earouise .
Hasten , dear Robin!—for the aged dame Calls thee to gather up the honeyed crumb She scatters at her door ; and , at thy name , The youngsters crowd to see their favourite _coaie ,-Fear not Grimalkin!—she doth sing " three-thrun *? , ' With happy half-shut eyes , npon the warm Soft cushion in the corner-chnir : deaf , dumb , And toothless lies old Growler : —fuar no harm , — Loved Robin!—thou shalt banquet hold without alarm Ah ! Chanticlear hath eyed the dainties spread For thee , and summons his pert train the prize To share . Lo ! how the children ask with dread , Of the old _grandame with the glazed eyes , u Why Robin does not come ? " The pet one cries , Because hasees thee not , —unpaclfied , Ev _' n with the apple tinct with vermeil dyes , The first-born offers with a kiss ! Abide Sot here , expected one , —lest woe the cot betide !
_If-tbon return not , Gammer o ' er her pail Will sing in sorrow , ' ncath the brinded cow , — And Gaffer sigh over his nut-brown ale , — While evermore the petlings , with sad brow , Will look for thee upon the holly bough—Where thou didst chirp thy signal note , ere on The lowly grunsel thou didst light , and shew , With such sweet confidence , —thou darling one !—Thy blythesome face , —and , on thee , all cried " benison !' The thought strikes the poet thatthe robin has abjured , his former haunts because the happiness which once existed there , exists no longer : —
Alas ! I mind me why thou linger ' st here : — - Hy country's happy cottages abound No longer!—where they stood and smiled , uprear The " Bastile" and the gaol!—and thou hast found Such refuge , Robin , as—upon the ground Where Alfred reigned , and Hampden fought and bled-Where Hilton sung , and Latimer was crowned With glorious martyrdom—is portioned Unto our fathers' sons—who win with tears their bread . Bread!— -nay , devour with greed the grovelling root , As recompense of labour for their lords - _, — Or , spurned , when begging to have , like the brute , Fodder for toil , and coerced into hordes Of midnight spoilers—swell the black records Of cruelty and crime . " This dear , dear land " Is dear no longer : its great name affords Thoughts hut for _cursis ! Aye , _wbare the brave baud Sang in the flames—lit by the brood of
Hildebrand;—Where strode the iron men of Runnymede , And quelled the tyrant;—where Hypocrisy And Lawlessness , though sprung of royal seed And sceptred , paid stern forfeit by decree Of broad-day justice unto Liberty;—Where noblest deeds were done ; upon this isle" This precious stone set in the silver sea , " Hen talk of England as of something vile ; And wish they could forget her , in some far exile ! The cottage babes are mourning , did I say , For that the threshold their loved visitant Presented not ? Alas , poor bird ! Thy lay And all its sweetness is forgot : their want Of bread hath banished thoughts of Robin's ehaunt : The children plenty know no more j and love And Gentleness have fled from Hunger ' s haunt : — Fled is all worship for fair things that rove Among fair flowers—worship in young hearts sweetlj wove .
Pair Nature charms not : fellowship with song And beauty—germs from which grow , for the good Reverence , and forthe frail—though wrong—Pity and tenderness;—all these , the rude Chill breath of Want hath stifled in the bud ; And beggar quarrels for their seanty crust Sow fill the bosoms of the lean , dwarfed brood , The peasant father—sprung from sires robust—Beholds at home , and wishes he were laid in dust ! Ah ! darling Robin—thou wilt soon behold Kb homes for poor men on old England's shore : — * Jfo homes but the vile gaol , or Tiler fold Reared by new rule to herd the " surplus poor "Wise rule wliich unto Pauperism ' s foul core—The rich man ' s purse-plague ' s core—shall penetrate : Paupers shall multiply their race no more Except they lite in palaces ! Debate Upon the rule they may : but—the slaves bear their fate !
Slaves—abject , bloodless , soulless , sneaking slaves!—Your fetters are perfected , now ! Tug , strain , Toil , sweat , and starve , and die!—For , whoso raves For larger pittance from his lords humane—Or , malcontent , dares from hard toil refrain-He shall be BastiUd ! His wise lords say well—Such grumbling slaves might nurture bold disdain In their serf-offspring : better 'tis to quell , At once , and , in the germ , creatures that might rebel ! Cowards—why did ye suffer knaves to forge These eunuch-fetters—and to bind them on Your limbs!— Beshrew this rising in my gorge To think thnt others ' neath their fetters groan , And do not break them!—Wear I not my own ? Aye—and must wear them , while my tyrants choose . Well : let me bide my time ; and , then , atone For that real crime—the failing to arouse Slaves against tyrants : —*! may—yet—before life ' s close
In this book ( which is much superior to the second and third ) we are introduced to _CnATTERTOU , Sappho , and Lucbetius . Of the first of these we are told—A stately burthen , couched in antique tongue And magic rhyme , unto his mystic shell With tuneful voice , the unseen minstrel sung _. But , suddenly , his lofty harpings fell To dirge-like melody—for smit by speU Of memory , tbe hard Ins fated toil On earth—his breath of hope hushed by thc kuell Of early death , sung sadly . Dull recoil His harp seized , next—as if it shrunk from overtoil .
The sorrow-broken songster , soon , to wake Its chords in wailful cavatina strove : — He sung ofthe proud , slighted bosom ' s ache—Of soul-consuming fires more fierce than love Or jealousy—of restless hopes that move Their young possessor to aspirings wild—Of disappointment ' s gall when frowns disprove His smiling day-dreams—till the draught defiled—The deathly chalice—tempts the seorn-stung Poet-ehild Sobbings , that heaved as they would rend the heart , _Succeeded—and the lyre was dumb ! Then passed The shade of fated Chatterton athwart Hy path—sad , mournful , slow , with eyes downcast , And visage ye might emblem by a waste Of over-prurienc _* , or tropic field Where luscious fruitage springing thick and fast Expires of hasty ripeness , ere can yield To th' taste its sweets , or their rich value be revealed . —
The picture of _Siprao is beautiful : — A monumental form , that meekly glowed With softest radiance , sadly o '« r an urn Sepulchral , ' neath a lofty cypress , bowed , Midway , along this soinbrous pathway . Lorn It _droop'd , and , voiceless , seemed to tell , " I mourn With more than mortal grief ; " yet , was such grace Celestial by that drooping statue worn , That one desired for ever in that place To stay and gaze upon its spiritual face . Enwrapt to ecstasy , I gazed till life Began to fill its breast , and passion shone Through its _unmarbled eyes ! Death a rain strife Essayed , with chilly grasp around her zone , To hold in sculptured grief that ardentone . Lo l high immortal Love breathed vital power On her fair limbs—and , with a gentle moan , _Sha raised her head—a monument no more Of sorrow—but , for love , a peerless cynosure !
Her islet shell the burning Lesbian took From sad repose upon the urn that feigned To hold the image of her grief , and strook The matchless chords as one who pain disdained ; Then , proudly , though with tears , she thus complained Of slighted tenderness—vowing to feed Her fruitless flame till , spirit disenchained From torture , her deep constancy its meed Should find in some blest state for souls by gods decreet ! Phaon ! beloved , unloving _Thaon 1 thee The maid enamoured byinns- ~ by pain unchanged In Hades , as by scorn ou earih : on me Let angry -lore , the Torturer , be aveng *!
Ithe Purgatory Of Suicides, A ]?Bisoi. B...
:. j . ' * rder disarranged , For slighted lJRi ; _aflft _^ - _** e shall not wrest Ofhis stern _govSftiHieilt J * . ; _-r es . ran ~ ed Thy image from its thfdfle i n »> * f ul breast . * Shall be her love from" Sappho ' s _felti _* _. doomed , un She can love on—u ' nl 6 ' reQ , despised , - 8 > nj-, blest ! * " * # # - - Fidelity to _Kature's _Impulses ' Shall bring , at length , _ineffuMi ' r & xvata : They who , all _unsubdusd , ' _griinsi miseilc' _S Of human scorn and death and woe have w & fibi Shall meet their guerdon : dreams of gifted b ' &' tft And visions of gray seer sliall be fulfilled : Torture that long the universe hath marred , Shall end ; of Love and Hate the combat wild Shall cease i the discords of thc soul for aye he b ' uiied ;
It cannot be that with the Beautiful Deformity shall ever , envious , blend : Hercy divine , shall demon Wrath annul , Love conquer Hate—and glorious Goodness bend Her iris over life till it transcend The power of Evil , and annihilate Its sting for ever !— Ardent lesbian " , Hnd Thy dreams—nor dare Futurity and Fate To fix , b _^ fond wish , in fancied happy state IThus broke Upon my spirit accents stern , Haughty , abrupt;—and , forthwith , stood beside Sappho ' s soft foMn a spirit cold and dern Of aspect- but whose statel y , seemly pride Outspoke the _tuneftrl Koman suicide Who wooed the Muse to leave her wonted hill , And _trsad the plain With philosophic stride— t And , slighting toys ,- With Manly themes to fill The soul—of its own Liberty , _^ ate , Good , and 111 .
For the dialogue between * tbxr Lesbian poetess and the Roman philosopher , we' nl-ufct refer the reader to the poem . In the "Notes" to _this-bWtiitie-psct thus speaks of Sappho : — Ancient and modern criticsWithoufnumbe-j—longinus , _Dionysius of Halicaraassus , ' Horace himself , _Vossius , Hoffman , Addison , iVc .- itc . ; have paid the highest tribute tothe poetical excellence of the fair suicide of Lesbos ; but , perhaps , a more finished and eloquent eulogy on her lyric worth is not to be found in the compass of a > few words , than the following extract from the 9 th voLof the Encydopaidia Metropolitana : —
" There are few intellectual treasures , the loss of whieh is more deeply to be regretted than that of the works of this poetess ; for the remnants which have reached us certainly display genius of the highest order ; they ate rich even to exuberance ,- and yet directed by the most exquisite taste . In these most delicious of _love-songs'the tide of passion seems deep and exhaustless ; it flows rapidly yet gently on , while the most sparkling fancy is ever playing over it ; and the words themselves seem to participate in the sentiments which they develope . It is a mistake to imagine that the fragments of Sappho are nothing more than the eloquent expressions of amatory feeling ; they are really verses of high imagination , wliich renders them as beautiful as they are intense , and , in the opinion * of some writers , raises them even to the sublime . " ( To be Continued . )
The Wandering Jew. By Eugene Sue. People...
THE WANDERING JEW . By Eugene Sue . People ' s Edition . Part I . London : Clark , _Warwick-lane , Paternoster-row . We have not before noticed this clever and universally popular romance , * it is therefore necessary that in introducing Mr . _Clahk ' s edition to our readers we should make a few explanatory remarks as to the plot of the story , and the principal _pensonages who figure therein . The title of the work appears to have been given to it almost solely for the purpose of effect , for the famous , though fabulous Juif Errant has really but little to do with the story . " The Jesuits
Unmasked" would have been a more appropriate title , for the whole story turns upon the intrigues of the Pere d'Aingrigny and the Pere Rodin of the society of the Jesuits , to deprive the rightful heirs- of one Jdques Rennepont of property to the amount of 240 millions of francs ( about ten millions sterling ) , which they are entitled to divide amongst them , with all its accumulations , one hundred and fifty years after his death . The Jesuit intriguers are represented in the story to have induced one of the heirs of the Rennepont family , Gabriel Rennepont by name , to become a priest and a member of the order of the Jesuits , and to abandon all his rights in tho inheritance to his
order , ihe objects therefore of ilie Jesuit conspira . tors are to get Gabr iel Rennepont to the place where the inheritance is to be surrendered to the representatives of thc famil y , and thus , through him , to obtain it for themselves , and to keep all the otlier members of thc family absent from Paris until after the division of the property . To effect this latter object , these priestly conspirators are described in the story as having recourse to all manner of fraud , falsehood , and intrigue ; hesitating not to commit atrocities , at the recital of wliich the hair of the reader ' s head almost stands ou end , "like quills upon the fretful porcupine . "
The first of the heirs , or rather heiresses of the house of Rennepont introduced to thc reader , are two young girls named Rose and Blanche Simon , the daughters of a Bonapartist Field-Marshal Simon , who , soon after the close of the last war , had married thc daughter of a French refugee , belonging to the family of llcnnepont , at Warsaw , and who almost immediately after the marriage had been banished from Poland , owing to the intrigues of the Jesuits . On his return to France , having become involved in a military conspiracy , he is obliged again to fly , and proceeds to India , where he heads the natives , and gains several victories over the English—romance victories , of course ! In India he becomes acquainted with a certain Prince Djalma ,
the son of a native prince b y a rrencli lady , also one of the heirs of the Rennepont family . Marshal Simon ' s still more unfortunate wife had been sent to Siberia , where she gives birth to two daughters , Rose and Blanche . Tliese children , at her death , she leaves to the cave of an old French soldier , a follower of Marshal Simon , named Francis Raudoin . This veteran of the Empire ( who bears the nickname of Dagobert ) , is first introduced to the reader at a coantry inn , near Leipsic , where he arrives late in the evening , witli Rose and Blanche , both mounted on his faithful steed , and is accompanied by his faithful dog . Tliere he has the misfortune to fall in with an emissary of the Jesuits , sent for the express purpose of stopping his course , in the person of Morok , a religious impostor , and tamer of wild beasts , who is travelling about the country , exhibiting his lions , Cain and Judas , and his black panther of Java , bearing the terribfe name of " La Mort" ( Death ) .
By this miscreant Morok , poor Dagobert s horse is destroyed , the poor creature being torn to pieces by " La Mort . " The recital of the poor animal's death is painfully horrible . Dagobert is further robbed of his passport , and he is at last delivered into thc hands of justice , on a charge of assault and vagabondism . Fortunately , however , Dagobert escapes , and after a variety of adventures , reaches Hamburgh , where he embarks in a steamer with Rose and Blanche , In , a terrible storm the steamer is wrecked on the coast of France , but thc three escape the destructive sea , and take refuge in the chateau of Mademoiselle de Cardovillc , another heiress of the family of Rennepont , just as the Rev . Father Rodin , the most finished miscreant of the whole Jesuit confraternity , is on a visit there . By him the Pere d'Aingrigny is informed of tho landing of Rose and Blanche . —Having said thus much explanatory of some of the leading characters—others we shall speak of at a future timewe give the following extract : —
THE DESPATCHES . * Morok , the brute-tamer , having deprived Dagobert of his horse , and robbed him of his papers and money , concluded he would be unable to continue his journey . He had accordingly , previous to the arrival of the burgomaster , sent Karl to Leipsic with a letter , which he was ordered to carry to tlie post-office immediately . The address of this letter ran thus : — " MoNSiinn Rodin , " Rue du Milieu des Uvsins , ¦ ' Paris . " About the middle of this retired and little known street , situated below the level of the Quai Napoleon , on which it opens not far from the Rue St . Landry , tliere stood at that time a house of modest appearance , built at the farther end of a gloomy court yard , separated from the street hy a small building , forming a kind of _fagade , having an arched doorway and two casement windows protected by thiekiron bars .
The interior of this quiet dwelling was ofthe simpliest description , as will be evident from a description of the furniture of a large room on the ground floor of the principal building . Old g rey wainscotting covered the walls ; the _tile-paved flooring was painted red , _tben waxed , and carefully polished ; and white calico curtains were suspended before the windows . A globe , about four feet in diameter , mounted on a pedestal of massive oak , stood at one end of the room , opposite the fire place . On this large globe might be seen very many small red crosses , scattered over all the quarters of the world ; from the north to the south , from the east to the west ; from the most savage regions and distant isles , to the most civilised countries , including France itself : there was no land , in short , ivhich had not places marked with these
* Lucretius. . ., T ,-F „ T "In Reading ...
* Lucretius . . ., T ,-f „ t "In reading the rules of the order ot the Jesuits , under the title 'De Formula Scr ibendi' ( Institut . u ., m ., p . 125-129 , the development of the eighth part of the to stitutious ) , we are astonished at the number of letteis , relations , registers , and writings of all kinds preserved in the archives of the Society . , , ,. . " A system of police , much more exact and better informeil than that of any government , is here brougnt to light . The Venetian Government itself was surpassed bj the Jesuits . "When that state eNpelled them m 1 G 0 U , it seized their papers , and censured their extreme and
intolerable curiosity . Tlieir police system ( that secret inquisition ) , carried to such a degree of perfection , explains the power ofa body so well-informed , so persevering m , " projects , so powerful through unity , and ( as the Constitutions themselves express _itj the union of its members . " is easy to see , also , what immense ascendancy the government of this society acquired ; and how truly the General of the Jesuits was enabled to say to the Duke of Brissac : ' _Trom this chamber , sir , 1 govern not only Paris , out China ; not only China , but the whole world ; nor does any one know how _' it is done . ' ' " — Constitutions of the « _fosiv » s , with the doclavations . Latin X « s . t _, from thc Prague E . dit ., p . 176 to ITS . Paris , 1834 . 7 "
* Lucretius. . ., T ,-F „ T "In Reading ...
httle red crosses evidently serving , as signs of indication j or point 3 of reference . Before a table of black wood , ' crowded with papws , with its back to the wall near the fire , Stood an empty ehair further on , between two win ** dows , was a . la rge w . ilnut-treo bureau , surmounted by shelves bearing pasteboard boxes . _^ Towards the end of the month of October , 183 D , about -ight in the morning , a man sat writing at thb bureau , ¦ j - _^ man was M . Bodin , the correspondent of Morolf , tiiS _WUte"w _* " _* er " . was fifty _J'ears of age , and wore an old threadbare ol" ' reat eoat > with a greasy collar ; a cotton pocket-handki _rchiCfserved him as a cravat , and his rousers and waistcoat of black cloth bad long since lost * -v particle of . nap : his feet , shod with large greased * " v *>* - rested oh a small square piece of groan csvpet SllOOl , . ti _, 0 re , i and shining floor . His grey hair ,
placed Ok nnd straight over-the temples , crowned his combed Dot N - eyebrows were scarcely perceptible , and bald brow . Hi * . Hmp and falling like the membrane the upper eyelids , .. . s of reptiles , almost concealed his which half veils the ej _\ _, His thin and _celourloss lips small , bright black _ey'tf .- ' the pale complexion of were hot _distinguishabfe' _iVJJit , ' _- _* ted chin . This livid his lean visage , sharp nose _. _-amMl ' jIta ... -e strange appearand almost lipless face had it _sfflM _^ u - t for the rapid ance from its sepulchral immoWlZty ; _J bv . over the movement of M . Rodin's fingers , asy _teilHTTIj ' it have bureau , lie Scribbled away with his _peti , iv & _% - . _-cret been taken for a corpse . With the aid of a _cypher ( of *\ ., » v alphabet ) he transcribed in such a manr . fer tha * _^ * would be unintelli gible to any one hot _possessi . % ' t 2 sc _^ _Wi some pasages from a long _Written paper .
It was an unpk'itea _' nt spectacle to behold tb 3 traa : _# '** _*»& his rigid , frozen features , writing , irt rfvyStefious _i * . 1 racters , in the dead silence of a dull and gloomy da _' _"Vy which increased the _cheerlsss look of that cold and nake ' i * ' ' room . The clock struck eight . . The knocker of the outer gate fell heavily , a bell rung twice , several doors opened and shat , and a second person entered the apartment . M . Rodin rose on his entrance-, still holding the pen between his fingers . He bowed with profound humility , then resumed his task without saying a word . ¦ * . * # # Mr . llodin , the stranger ' s secretary , continued writing . " Have you finished the examination of the foreign correspondence ? " inquired Rodin ' s master , " Here is the abstract . "
"Have the letters always reached the required addresses in envelopes , and been afterwards brought here ' according to my directions ?" " Always . " I "Read your abstract tome ; if there are any I ought ! to answer myself , I will tell you . " Aud Rodin ' s master 'began to pace the room with his hands crossed behind him ' dietatingremarks , which the secretary carefully noted dowm The secretary took a voluminous draft , and thus began : ' — "Don Ramon Olivarez acknowled ges from Cadiz tho receipt of letter No . 10 ; he will observe what it enjoins , and will deny all participation in tho elopement . " "Nothing to file ?" " Count Romanof'de Riga is in a 3 tato of pecuniary embarrassment . " '
" Tell Duplessis to send him a remittance of fifty louis . I once served as a captain in the Count ' s regiment ; he has since given excellent information . '' "The first parcel of the History of France , _expurgated-fot * the use of believers , - has been received at Philadelpbia ; . and these being solil , ' , there is a demand for more . " ' " Slake a-memorandum , and * write to Duplessis . Go on . !' "Ml Spindler sends from Niimur thosecret report _conaerning Mi Ardouin . " _, ' "Make an abstract of it . " ' " Doctor Van Ostadit , from the same- town , sends a confidential note respecting Messrs-- Spindler and Ardouin . " ' " Compare them . Go on . " " Count Malipierri , of Turin , sends _word'that the donation of 300 , 000 francs is signed . ' . ' " Inform Duplessis of that . "Well ?"
"Don Stanislaus has started for the baths of Baden with Queen Maria Ernestine .. He says her Majesty will receive with gratitude the information , and reply to it with her own hand . " * ' Take a note of that . I will write to the Queen myself . " While Rodin made a few notes- on- the margin of the paper which ho held , his master , in the course of his promenade through the length and breadth of the Oliambei ' , drew near the globe marked with small red crosses . He surveyed it thoughtfully for a moment-Rodin went on : — " Owing to the state of mind prevalent in some parts of Italy , Father _Orsini writes from Milan , where some agitators are turning their eyes towards France , it would be useful to circulate widely through the country a little hook calumniating the French , our countrymen , as impious and debaunched plunderers , and blood-sliedder ' s . "
"The idea is capital ! It would bo easy to- dress up cleverly the excesses we committed in Italy during tlio wars of tho republic . Wg must give the task of writing this book to Jacques Dumoulin ; that man is full of bile , gall , and venom—the pamphlet will be terrible . I will furnish some hints to him , but Jacques Dumoulin must not be paid till he has delivered the manuscript . " " To be sure not . Pay him beforehand , and he will bo dead drunk for a week , in some vile haunt or other . Owing to that , you were obliged to pay him twice for his virulent tract against the pantheistical tendency of Professor Martin ' s philosophical system . " " Make a note , and proceed . " "The merchant sends word that tho clerk is about to mako the banker render his accounts to the person who by right " Uttering tliese words with strong emphasis , Rodin said to his master— "Do you understand ?"
" Perfectly , " said tlie other , with a shudder "they are the expressions agreed on . Proceed . " "Butthe clerk , '' resumed the secretary , " is restrained by a last scruple . " After a moment ' s silence , during wliich his countenance contracted painfully , Rodin's master vesvuned * . — " Continue to act on the clerk ' s imagination by silence and solitude ; then make him read again the list of eases of absolved and authorised regicides . Go on . " " During three years , two servant girls of Ambrosius , who was sent to the little parish in the mountains of the Valais , have disappeared and never been lieard of . A third has just shared the same fate . The protcstauts of the district begin to whisper ; they talk of murder , attended with horrible circumstances . " "Let Ambrosius be defended against tho Infamous calumnies of a party that never scruples to adopt the most monstrous surmises , until there be complete and evident proof of his guilt . Goon . "
"Thompson , of Liverpool , has secured for Justin the place of steward to Lord Stewart , a rich Irish catholic , whose intellect is daily growing weaker . " " lVhen this fact is proven , send Thompson fifty louis as a gratuity . Make a note for Duplessis , and go on . " " The Cardinal Prince Almafi will conform to the first three points of the memorial . He wishes to make some reservations on the fourth . " "No reservations—full and absolute assent . If not , war—and , observe particularly , desperate war—no pity for himself nor for his creatures . G o on . " " Fra Paolo announces that the patriot Boecari , the head ofa very extensive secret society , in despair at finding his Mends accuse him of treason , m consequence of suspicion instilled into their minds by Fra Paolo , has committed suicide . " "Boecari ! Is it possible ? Boecari ! the patriot Boecari ! That eminently dangerous foe ! " cried Rodin ' s master .
"The patriot Boecari , " repeated thc imperturbable secretary . "Tell Duplessis to send an order to Fra Paolo for twenty-five louis . Make a note of that . " "Hausmann announces that the French danseuse Albertine Ducomet , is the mistress of the reigning prince ; she has an absolute influence over him : by her instrumentality the proposed design might be effected ; but , in her turn , Albertine is devotedly under the influence of her lover , who is condemned for forgery in France , and she does nothing without consulting him . " "Desire Hausmann to communicate with this man , and if his demands are reasonable , let them be complied with ; let him inform himself also whether this girl has any relatives in _Taris . " " The Due d'Orbano sends word that the king , his master _, will authorise the proposed establishment , but on conditions already notified . "
" No conditions , positiveadherence orpositiverefusal ! That is the way to know frieads from foes . The more untoward circumstances appear , the more necessary it is . to show firmness and self-reliance , " " He also writes that all the diplomatic corps support the father of the Protestant girl , who will not leave the . convent in which she has taken refuge , unless it be to marry her lover , to whom her father objects , " " So the diplomatic body perseveres in claiming her in ; the name of the father t " "Yes , they porsevero . ' _" "Then continue to reply , that the spiritual power has nothing in common with the temporal power . " At this moment two loud knocks were _henrd at the door .
See who it is , " said Rodin ' s master . Rodin rose and went out . liis master continued to pace the room , pensively . His steps having again led him near the enormous globe , he paused . For some time he contemplated , in profound silence , the numerous little crosses which seemed to cover all the countries of the earth like tho _meshas of an immense net . Reflecting , doubtless , on the invisible action _, of his power , which seemed to pervade the world , that man ' s features grew animated : his large greyeye dilated and glistened ; his nostrils expanded , and his
masculine countenance took an incredible expression of energy and audacity . With a lofty brow and disdainful lip he drew near the globe , and placed his _vigorous hand on the pole . From his powerful grasp and imperious movement , itseemed as if this man thought he ruled the globe he looked down on , and upon which he placed his hand with such haughty , such daring mastery . But ho did not smile . His large brow became fearfully knit , and his look threatening ; an artist wishing to paint the demon of pride and tyranny , could not have chosen a more fearful model . When Rodin re-entered , his master's countenaneo had resume ] its usual expression .
* Lucretius. . ., T ,-F „ T "In Reading ...
TAIT'S EDINBURGH MAGAZINE-OoroBBR . Edinburgh : Tait ; London : Simpkin and Marshall , The opening avticle of this month's number of Tait is on the "Present State of Politics , " from tho pen of J . A . _Roeuuck , M . P . This article will , no doubt , claim the attention of our Whig Radical contemporaries , and may possibly elicit their praises . For ourselves the subject lias no interest , and only the curiosity to know what the honourable and waspish member for Bath would be saying now , could have prompted ua to read a page of his dissertation . His comment on the ministerial doings of the Whigs during their reign from 1832 to 1841 is an oft-told talc , and from sheer repetition has become
" flat , weary , stale , and unprofitable . " His estimation of Peel and his position is , however ; on the whole , fair and [ correct . •" - " Monastic Studies , Jests , and Eccentricities , " is an interesting review of a work lately produced by the Rev . S . R , MaULAKD _, on '" Ihe State ot Religion and Literature in the ninth , tenth , eleventh , and twelfth centuries . " ' The Picture Collector , " by Peter Paul Palette , is a capital avticle , intended as a companion to the clever sketch of th _£ Picture-cta-fer , which appeared ill this magazine , from the same hand , some time ago ; a more racy and amusing article wo have not read for a long time . Next we have a gossiping sketch of Derbyshire ' s famed watering place , xton
, 7 Mu . " Then follows " Job Sykes ' s Story , " by , * _+ _c _^ llent sporting writer Jons Mills . ' The _Annual " Fete * of the Poets" appears in this month ' s n 1 ,: ' _^ . and to our m _*' _2 < _l « inferior to most of the nuni & v . » . „ _pcasts _. » Scottish Peasant Life , the * _rt- _" ? " % ,,. " _* '" »» t / ic Conqueror , and the Invincible \ _mriti of _»¦ ?( _,, three _i _, est pieces * the present _?? vZ \ ' n % L % ' m Qtim Eatbr contributes ieast , she ErSo _^ nerance Movement of Moan . article o « «¦ The _Tsn , _, _--ngular and interesting dern . limes > " and al _ttteist- _» ,. -dd neglect to read article At is .- No _tee-tetate ' _^ i _^ " men , whether this curiu'U 9 article , ancl , indeed , * » s . _--. t valuable . vater-drinli'm or otter-vise ,, may glem ib < , _ . _¦¦• cences information from-the experiences and- i ? 6 h 9 J » 1 v . . * - > wof the Esglisii Opium Eater ; . We gke' th * _feis . ing extracts : — _»
_IBDlGESTION .-Past counting are the victims of aleofcoli that , ha- > iiig by vast efforts emancipated themselves for a-season , are violently forced into _relapsiag by the nervous irritations ' of demoniac cookery . Unhappily for them ' ,- the horrors of indigestion are relieved for the lnonie & t _, however ultimately strengthened , by strong liquors ; tb-rrelicf is immediate , and cannot fail to be perceived ; but tha aggravation , being removed to a cSstauce , is not always referred to its proper cause . This is She capital rock and stumbling-block in the path of him who is hurrying back to the camps of temperance ; and many a reader is likely to misapprehend the case through the habit he has ac _* - quired of _supposin-f indigestion to lurk _sliiefly amongst _tatiKOus dishes . But , on the contrary , it is amongst the
plainest , simplest , and commonest dishes _thatsucli misery lurks , ih'England . Let us glance at three articles of diet , beyond all comparison of most ordinary occurrence , viz ., potatoes ; -hread , and butcher ' s meat . Tho art of preparing potatoes for _Aicman use is utterly unknown , except in certain provinces of our empire , and amongst certain sections of the labouring class . In our great cities-London , Edinburgh , < fcc . —the sort of things which you see offered at table under tho name and reputation of potatoes , are such that , if you could suppose the company to be composed of Centaurs and Lapitliie , or any otlier quarrelsome people , it would become necessary forthe police to interferes _QHic potato of cities is a very dangerous missile ; and , if thrown with an accurate aim by an angry hand , will fracture any known skull . In volume
and consistency it _15-very . like _apavirjg-stoiio ; . only that , I should say , the paving . stone had the advantage in point of tenderness . And upon this horrid basis , - whicli youthful ostriches would repent of swallowing , the trembling , palpitating invalid , fresh from the scourging of alcohol , is reauested to build the superstructure ot his dinner . The proverb says that three _ftittings aro as bad as a lire ; and on that model 1 conceive that three potatoes , as they are found at many British dinner-tables , would be equal , in principle of ruin , to two glasses of vitriol . The same savage ignorance appears , and only not so often , in the bread of this island . Myriads of families eat it ill that early state of sponge which bread assumes during the process of baking ; but less than sixty hours will not fit
this dangerous article of buman diet to be eaten . And those who are acquainted with the works of Farmentier , or other learned investigators of bread and of the baker ' s art , must he aware that this quality _ofsponginess ( though quite equal to the ruin of the digestive organs ) is but one in a legion of vices to which the article is liable . A German of much research wrote a book on the conceivable faults in a pair of shoes , which he found to be about six hundred and sixty-six , many of them , as he observed , requiring a very delicate process of study to find out ; whereas the possible faults in bread , wliich are not less in number require no study at all for the detection : they publish themselves through all varieties of misery . But the perfection of barbarism , as regards our island cookery , is reserved for _animrtl food ; and the two poles of
Oro-masdes and Ahrimanes arc nowhere so conspicuously exhibited . Our insular sheep , for instance , arc so far superior to any which tho continent produces , that the present Prussian minister at our court is in the habit of questioning a man ' s right to talk of mutton as anything beyond n great idea , unless he can prove a residence in Great Britain . Ono sole case lie cites of a dinner on the Elbe , when a particular leg of mutton really struck him as rivalling any which he had known in England . The mystery seemed inexplicable ; but , upon inquiry , it turned out to be an importation from Leith . Yet this
incomparable article , to produce which the skill of the feeder must co-operate with the peculiar bounty of nature , calls forth the most dangerous refinements of barbarism in its cookery . A Frenchman requires , as the primary qualification of flesh meat , that it should be tender . We English universally , but especially the Scots , treat that quality with _indiftereiicd , or with bare toleration . What we require is , that it should be fresh , that is , recently killed ( in which state it cannot he digestible except by a crocodile ) ; and we present it at table in a transition state of leather , demanding the teeth ofa tiger to rend it iu pieces , and the stomach of a tiger to digest it .
SLOrS , MUFFINS , AND St _/ _ICIDES . Fifty years ago—and still lingering inveteratcly amongst nurses and other ignorant persons—there prevailed u notion that * ' slops" must be the proper resource of the valetudinarian ; and the same erroneous notion appears in the common expression of ignorant wonder at the sort of breakfasts usual amongst women of rankinthe times of Queen Elizabeth . " What robust stomachs tliey must have had to suppoit such solid meals ! " As to the question of faet , whether the stomachs were more or less robust in tliose days than at present , there is no need to offer an opinion . But the question of principle concerned in scientiHc dietetics points in the very opposite direction . By how much the organs of digestion are feebler , by so much is it the more indispensable that solid food and
animal food should be adopted . A robust stomach may be equal to the trying task of supporting a fluid , such as tea for breakfast ; but for a feeble stomach , and still more for a stomach enfeebled by bad habits , broiled beef , or something equally solid and animal , but not too much subjected to the action of fire _r is the only tolerable di & t . This , indeed , is the one capital rule for a sufferer from habitual intoxication , who must inevitably labour under an impaired digestion ; that as little as possible he should use of any liquid diet , and as little as possible of vegetable dint . Beef and a little bread ( at least sixty hours old ; , compose the privileged bill of fare for his breakfast _. But precisely it is , by the way , in relation to this earliest mnal that human folly has in one or two instances shown itself most ruinously inventive . The less variety thereis at that meal , the more is the danger from any single luxury ; and there is oneknown by the name of " mufti ns , " ivhich has repeatedly manifested itself to-be a plain and
direct bounty upon suicide . Darwin , in his " Zoonomia , reports a case where an ofiicer , holding the rank of lieutenant colonel , could not tolerate a breakfast in which this odious artiele was wanting ; but , as a savage retribution invariably supervened within an hour or two upon this act of insane sensuality , he came to a resolution that life was intolerable with muffins , but still more intolerable without muffins . He would stand the nuisance no longer : but yet , being a just man , he would give nature one final chance of reforming her dyspeptic atrocities . Muffins therefore being laid at one angle ofthe breakfast-table , and loaded pistols at another , with rigid equity . the _colonelawaiwdtheresult . This was naturally pretty much as usual : and theu the poor man , incapable of retreating from his word of honour , committed suicide —having previously left a liue for posterity to the effect ( though I forget the expression ) , "that a mufflnless world was no world for him :. better no life at all than a
life dismantled oi muffins . " Br . Darwin was a showy philosopher , and fond of producing effect ; so that some allowance must be made in construing theaffair . Strictly speaking , it is probable that not tha special want of muffins , but the generaltormentof indigestion , was the curse from which the unhappy sufferer sought relief by suicide . And the colonel was not the first by many a million , that has Hed from the very same form of wretchedness , or from its isffects upon the genial spirits , to the same gloomy refuge . It should never bis forgotten that , although some other more overt vexation is generally assigned as the proximate cause of suicide , and often may be so as regards the immediate occasion , too generally this vexation borrowed its whole power to annoy , from the habitual atmosphere of irri tation in which the system had been kept by indigestion . So that indirectly and virtually perhaps all suicides may be traced to mismanaged digestion .
We are sorry we cannot , find room for further extracts , but _, we earnestly recommend tke reader to turn to-the magazine and read . for himself the _entiieof this valuable artiele . An . elaborate review ot _"TlieTDispatckes and Letters of Lord Nelson ia commenced in this number . Amongst the shorter notices of new works , wc find the M owing onthe Purgatory of Suicides : — This epic , which bears date _Stafford Gaol , toby ft * the most remarkable poem upon our table m the current month ; aud wo may extend the period . As ne cannot , hcWcr , at this time , find s pace to render a _eason , either fov our approbation of much ol its execution , or condemnation pf much of its spirit , and something of its tendency , we must be content , in the meantime , to mnounce to the world this singular production .
" \ Vc understand by the above tfiat we may expect next month a fair and 1 \\\ 1 review of Mr , _Coorun ' s pocffl , "We liopQ so , If tlie critic ' s jiidgin & nt bids
* Lucretius. . ., T ,-F „ T "In Reading ...
him praise or condemn , let him do as bidden , honestly and fearlessly ; but no burking . ; We haye a higb opinion of the criticism of tliis magazine , and shall be glad to see it brought to bear on the production of our Chartist poet . "" * " . _" ' This is , " take it for all in all , " an excellent number of ¦ Tart , and we have much pleasure in recommending it to our readers .
€It Mte
€ it Mte
" He Was Locked Up."—Who Was Locked Up ?...
" He was Locked Up . "—Who was locked up ?—what was the culprit's sin against society ? What iniquity bad he—" a poor sickly boy , aqout fifteen years of age "—committed , that the awful Mr . Combe , sitting in his magisterial chair at Clerkenwell , should punisk thc prisoner ( who had not 2 s . Cd . to pay a fine ) with hard captivity J " What ( asks the moralist ) was his _pyil-tloing ? " Listen , and sigh over the wickedness of humanity . The " sickly boy" had obstructed "the foot-path and carriage -way in Chapel-street , St . Pancras , with his basket of fruit
torsale ! fhe audacious malefactor , " _withtearsin hi j eyes , said lie . had no other way to live ; " and the offending , destitute wretch was therefore—locked up!—Punch , The Smallest Improvement thankfully Received . —The difficulty , it . seems , with railways is to invent a whistle that shall give intimation to another train of approaching danger . We are sure the public would be too grateful for any improvement of the kind , especially as they now find that , if they lose their lives on a pleasure excursion , it is paying rather too dearly for their whistle . —Ibid .
TUB _ANDOVUn WAH-S 0 . V 0 . t" Thoy ( the adherents , or tail , of the Chairman of the Andover Union Board ) _talio up the case in the spirit of _pnrtizanship : the Chairman is their leader , and tlieir warcry is 'We wunt be beat ! Wo wunt bo beat ! ' " -, _Report in Times , We wunt he heat ! Wo wunt bo beat ! Don ' t talk to we—for wo wunt see ' t Talk to a pooast , or a log , _"oo argify Wi * hos or hog . _*• ' resolved our side shall win , * * rirf- _'ve'Ugoodrougli thick and thin , Tor whieh -.. -. What paupers eat * - ' What da we ex * . _** _, , vmit bD beat , _FewuntbfcBWtf . - >•
We wunt be beat I _"Wtf- * t » - ** 7 . ? _'' " Wo wunt be praehed _ttl , ¦ . _'(<• _i'SjPj ** _- . _' We don't care what the tjirtli may bvf 'Th all the one , vor that , to We .-What we ' ve made up our minds to do ; - That zame we manes to carry draigh : You may as well a mule entreat ; IVc wunt he beat ! Wo wunt be beat ?¦ We wunt be beat ! * We wunt be beat ! ' On ive will goo ; and wunt retreat . No ; by our Chairman we will stand , 'Gin all the rasonin the land . We ' ve got no ears for paupers ' groans , What ziguifics their knawun' bones ?¦ What matters what be Workus meat ! Wis wunt be beat 1 We wunt be beat ' . —Ibid
Pt _* . fCR 3 Political DlSTioJiARY . _—iZ / otineiii System —tho practice of allotting little bits of ground to agricultural labourers to diminish tlieir grounds of _complaintj _. and by employing them on small plots of earth'prcTCntirig-tlicm from entering on plots of a more dangerous character . The system is said to havo ' worked' wtell , and the labourers have worked * well , wherever it has been adopted . Ambassadora sort' of ticket-porter , by whom messages and parcels are carefully delivered from one sovereign to another . An ambassador must furnish his countrymen with passports and protection ; so that he is not only a porter , but a policeman as well , for he must
defend those who apply to him for assistance , and enable them to " move on" when travelling . An ambassador is called " his Excellence , " though he may excel in nothing but short whist and diplomatic cunning . An ambassador is free from all process so that , after dealing with tradesmen to a large extent , he may cut , or play any other odd trick that a _Jackin-office , if he happens to be a knave , would disgrace himself by practising . Amendment—a word r . _ometimes applied to tlie tinkering of an Act of Parliament _, lt is called amendment from the Greek a , which signifies not ; and mcndincnt whicli is the old Saxon term for mendinsj .
Spiiuted Proceeding at Cologne . —Her Majesty , with that liberality to foreigners for which she is unfortunately so distinguished , _presented tho above city with £ 600 towards the works of tlic cathedral . A meeting was got up in order to refuse the royal bounty , ancl request her Majesty to give it to the poor Irish , or to the Anglican church ; but tliose finger-ends of office—the police—dispersed the meeting , before any resolution had been come to . V / e are glad it ended so . Had these gentlemen passed their humane resolve , they would have had the bitterness of disappointment for their labour . Her Majesty-God bless her!—when an Englishman or Irishman is concerned , would rather take than give . —Ibid .
On _Deak Me . —It lias been privately reported tliat a certain great personage , _sinc-s the mighty fuss some goths have kicked up about the slaughter of game at Gotha , has lamented that she had not been at homo in the royal nursery listening to her dears talking , instead of being present at the deer-stalking abroad . —Ibid . A _CnvncnwABDB . v ' s Mistake . —A- largo farmer , who is churchwarden of a parish near Aylesbury , recently received by his carrier a bottle of spirits , and some letters and parcels , one of which was a list of voters to be stuck on the Church door . On Sundaj niorin ' ng the congregation , were amused nnd surprised to find on tho Church door a bill to thc following effect : — Mr . . Bought of Henry Gulliver , 2 best brand' 30 £ 3
gallons y .. s Paid same time . Please return the bottle . In the afternoon the list of voters covered this curious notice . Swearing . Books . —Flaw Extraordinary . —At tho Eiinistymon . petty sessions on Monday , Michael Droney _, gamekeeper to Major Macnamara , summoned two men for hunting and killing a hare with two greyhounds and a beag c ,. on the 13 th of August . Thc case having been proved against them a dismissal was called for , on the ground that the information was not sworn 011 the Holy Evangelists , but on a Protestant prayer book . The swearing-book ( which was stated to be the same used- for the last thirteen years ) ivas examined , and declared not to contain tho lloly Evangelists _, and the court therefore dismissed the case . [ Close inspection would often detect similar informalities in English Courts . ]
_Jon-fitT _DAnBTSinuE ,. a PnuiiTivE Quaker . —On his way to his regular meeting he had to pass through a toll-bar , * and being on Sundays exempt by law from paying at it , it may be supposed that the barkeeper did not fling open the gate often with the best grace . One Sunday evening , however , Johnny Darbj'shirchad , from some cause or other , stayed late with his friends after afternoon meeting . When he passed through the toll-gate he gave his usual nod to the keeper , and was passing on ; but thc man called out to demand the toll , declaring that it was no longer Sunilav night , but Monday morning , being past twelve o ' clock . " Nay , friend , thou art wrong , " said Johnny , pulling out his watch : " see , it yet wants a quarter . "— " No , I tell you , " replied tlie
keeper , gruffly , " it is past twelve . Look , there is my clock . "— ** Ay , friend , but thy clock like thyself doesn't speak the truth . Like its master , it is a littlo too hasty . I assure thee my watch is right , for I just now compared it by the steeple-house clock in the town . "— " I tell you , " replied the keeper , angrily , " I ' ve nothing to do with your watch : 1 go by my clock , and there it is . "— " Well , I think thou art too exact with me , my friend . "— " Will you pay mo or not ? " roared the keeper ; " you go through often enough in the devil ' s name witliout paying . "" Gently , gently , my Mend , " replied Johnny ; "there is the money : and its really after twelveo _' clock thou sayst ?"— "To be sure . "— " Well , very well : then for the next twenty-lour hours I cau go through again without paying ?"— "To be sure ; everybody
knows that . "— " Very well , then I now bid thec farewell . " And with that ,, Johnny Darbyshire jogged on . The gate-keeper , chuckling at having at last extorted a double toll from the shrewd Quaker , went to bed , not , on that quiet road , expecting iurther disturbance till towards daylight ; but , jusUs he was about to pop into bed ; he heard some one rule up and cry , " Gate ! " Internally cursing the ate traveller , he threw on his things and descended to open the gate , when he was astonished to see the Quaker returned , "Thou sayst it really is past twelve , friend V '— " To be sure . "— " lhen open thc gate : I have occasion to ride back again . "—The gate flew open , Johnny Darbyshire trotted back towards the town , and , tho man , with double curses in his mind , returned up _. _stairs . This time he was not so sure of exemption from interruption , for he expected the Quaker would in a while be coming back homewards again . And he waa quite right .
Just as he was about to put out his candle , there was a cry of " Gate . " He descended , and behold tho Quaker once more presented himself . — " It really is past twelve , thou sayst ?"— " Umph 1 " g runted tho fellow . — " Then , of course , I have nothinjr more to pay . I would not , however , advise thco to go . to bed to-night , for it is so particularly fine thatl proposeto enjoy it by riding to and fro here a few hours . — . The fellow , who now saw Johnny _parbyahu-cs lull drift , exclaimed , " Here , for God ' s , sake sir , tak *> your money back , and let me get a wink oi sleep . -. But Johnnv refused to receive the money , observing , " if it ivas after twelve , then thc money is justly thine but I advise thee another time not to be too exact " and with that iie rode oil ' . —Edinburgh Tales . Dan * Beat at Last . —The Irish papers _arealliinmortalijing a most wost womlerl ' ul kitten , which , surpassing Mr . O'ConneU hhnself , has been born , : ii a place called Hose Oavborry , with " two tails , " 1 while the Liberator , m tar , has only achieved oik " ,.
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Citation
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Northern Star (1837-1852), Oct. 4, 1845, page 3, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse2.kdl.kcl.ac.uk/periodicals/ns/issues/ns4_04101845/page/3/
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