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THE PARISH PRIEST.

Wide was his parish, and houses far asunder,
But he ne left nought for no rain nor thunder,
In sickness and in mischief, to visit
The farthest in his parish much and lite.

He setté not his benefice to hire, And let his sheep accumbred in the mire, And ran unto Londón unto Saint Poule's To seeken him a chantery for souls, Or with a brotherhood to be withold; But dwelt at home and kepté well his fold, So that the wolf ne made it not miscarry : He was a shepherd and no mercenary ;

He waited after no pomp or reverence,
Ne makéd him no spiced conscience;
But Christés lore, and his apostles twelve
He taught, but first he followed it himselve.

How admirably well expressed is spiced conscience,— a conscience requiring to be kept easy and sweet with drugs and luxurious living.

Chaucer's pathos, humour, &c. &c. will require two or three more papers.

TO THE SISTER OF CHARLES LAMB.

COMFORT thee, O thou mourner, yet awhile!

Again shall Elia's smile

Refresh thy heart, when heart can ache no more. What is it we deplore?

He leaves behind him, freed from griefs and years,
Far worthier things than tears:

The love of friends without a single foe,
Unequall'd lot below!

His gentle soul, his genius, these are thine;
Shalt thou for those repine?

He may have left the lowly walks of men.
Left them he has. What then?
Are not his footsteps followed by the eyes
Of all the good and wise?

Tho' the warm day is over, yet they seek
Upon the lofty peak

Of his pure mind the roseate light that glows
O'er Death's perennial snows.
Behold him! From the spirits of the Blest
He speaks, he bids thee rest.

W. S. LANDor.

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The charming letter of our fair Correspondent in Wales, next week.

Due and most willing attention to * W *. Insertion shall be given, the first opportunity, to "Flowers in Churchyards," by the author of StrayFlowers,' (not 'May-Flowers,' as erroneously printed in No 60).

J. B. should by all means attend to his ledgers and his verses, both ;-founding pleasure on duty.

PORTITOR'S very proper and sensible letter shall be handed over to the gentlemen in whose hands are the subjects he speaks of.

Correspondents in general, who have not yet seen it, will oblige us by reading the notice to them in our last number.

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CURIOSITIES OF LAW AND HISTORY. Tracts, Legal and Historical. By John Riddell, Esq., Advocate. 8vo. pp. 234. Edinburgh. 1835. 7s. 6d.

THIS is a volume full of very curious matter, and yet one which is little likely to fall into the hands of ordinary readers. We shall therefore be doing our proper office as a Journal, one main aim of which is the diffusion of knowledge, in drawing forth a handful or two of its rarities, and scattering them abroad among the many. Its learned author may be said to write only for his learned professional brethren; for although he does occasionally affect the popular, we cannot compliment him on his success in that attempt. On his proper ground of a legal antiquary, however, and especially in the field of family antiquities, where such odd things are frequently to be picked up, Mr Riddell is well known as occupying a place in the very foremost rank of modern enquirers. His great learning here is directed and turned to use by a shrewdness and ingenuity which betoken not only a strong but a highly original mind.

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The first, and most important, of the Tracts in the present volume is entitled a Reply to Mr Tytler's Historical Remarks on the Death of Richard II.' The Readers of the PRINTING MACHINE will recollect that we gave an abstract of this speculation of Mr Tytler's in our 24th number. That writer's notion is, that Richard lived for nearly twenty years in Scotland after the time that he is generally supposed to have died or been murdered in Pontefract Castle and that he died in the Castle of Stirling, in the year 1419.

This curious subject, Mr Riddell tells us, was first broached by himself in the Scotch newspaper called the Caledonian Mercury,' for the months of July and August, 1829, where, he says, " he introduced his theory as to the supposed Richard, with relative observations and authorities." What his then

-we

theory was whether the same with Mr Tytler's, or the same that he now puts forward, are not informed. The volume of Mr Tytler's History (the third) in which the subject is treated of, was published at Edinburgh in the same year.

In the present publication, at all events, Mr Riddell contends that the story of Richard's escape is a mere imagination, and that the individual-for there certainly was such an individual who personated him in Scotland, was beyond all doubt an impostor, or rather a pretender set up and maintained by the government of that country as a means of annoying or keeping in check that of the rival kingdom, un

stable as the latter was at any rate from the circumstances of Henry the Fourth's accession, and the disputable nature of his rights.

In the first place, our author remarks that we have very strong and direct evidence of the fact of Richard's death at Pomfret, early in the year 1400.

"Walsingham, a cotemporary, and a favourite authority of Mr Tytler, informs us that Richard's body, after his decease at Pomfret, on St Valentine's day (the 14th of February), in that year, was exhibited at all the places of note on the route to London, where, in St Paul's Cathedral, in the presence of the King and the Londoners, the funeral service was performed. Otterburn, also a cotemporary, corroborates Walsingham in these particulars, with the addition, that that portion of Richard was disclosed, by which he could be recognized-the face being bare and open from the forehead to the throat. The testimony of Hardyng, independently of being a cotemporary, like the two former, is very important, because, while noticing the funeral cere mony, at the same time, he explicitly says that he himself saw the corse of Richard in "herse rial"—that is, in the royal hearse ir which it was placed. Froissard, as he informs us, had been secretary to Edward III, the grandfather of Richard, by whom he had been hospitably entertained, and munificently remembered on his leaving England. He states that Richard, after his death, was placed in a litter, covered with black, and a canopy of the same; four black horses were harnessed to it, and two varlets in mourning conducted the litter, followed by four knights, dressed also in mourning.' they left the Tower, and paraded the streets, at a foot's pace, until they came to Cheapside, which is the greatest thoroughfare in the city, and there they halted for upwards of two hours. More than twenty thousand persons of both sexes came to see the King, who lay in the litter, his head on a black cushion, and his face uncovered.'

In this manner

In addition to these testimonies, others to the same effect are quoted from Caxton's Chronicle, origin ally printed in 1480, from Fabyan, and from Speed,

who says that the corpse, "barefaced, stood three days for all beholders."

Mr Tytler, however, maintains that the body thus exhibited was not Richard's, but that of a priest of the name of Maudelain. This story he has taken from a French metrical history of Richard's Deposition, which is the only authority for it, and the author of which merely gives it hesitatingly and doubtfully, as his own suspicion. It appears that this person had really attempted to pass himself off for the deposed King, and had some weeks before been, for that act of high treason, put to death by Henry's party. Mr Riddell contends that in these circumstances he would most certainly be drawn, hanged, and quartered, and his members, more especially his head, agreeably to the usual practice, conspicuously ex

hibited on the bridge or gates of London. "In thi event," he remarks, “ being familiar to every Londoner, while pelted by the populace and the elements, and rapidly decomposing, they would be admirably adapted forsooth to stand proxy for Richard!" In point of fact several of the old chroniclers expressly tell us that Maudelain's body was so treated. Caxton, for instance, states that he and another of the persons engaged in the same conspiracy were drawn through the City of London to Tyburn, and there hanged, and their heads smitten off, and set on London Bridge. It appears from other authorities here quoted that the attempt of Maudelain, who was a mere puppet in the hands of the Lords opposed to Henry IV, was the sole origin of the rumour respecting Richard's escape, which certainly prevailed about the time of his death, and on which Mr Tytler Mr Riddell shows that for some lays so much stress.

time after Richard's death there was an entire absence of any rumour of his being still alive. For instance, the French King, whose daughter Richard had married, upon that event forthwith disbanded a large naval and military armament, which he had prepared with the view of effecting the restoration of his son-in-law; and some years after, in 1406, even allowed his daughter Isabel, Richard's widow, to contract a second marriage with the Duke of Orleans. The fact of this marriage may be considered completely to refute an assertion of Mr Tytler's, founded upon some very inconclusive inferences, that in 1404 and 1405 the French generally believed in Richard's escape and safety.

The rise of the first rumour of Richard being still alive is fixed by Mr Riddell, on the strongest concurrent evidence of documents and historical statements, to the early part of the month of June 1402. It appears that about that time there did appear in

Scotland a person bearing a kind of resemblance to Richard, and that he was accompanied by one William Serle. This Serle was a sufficiently notorious character. He had been yeoman of the robes to Richard, and not only one of the chief companions of that prince's low debaucheries, but his ready instrument in his worst acts of violence and tyranny. It was Serle, who, assisted by another minion of the same stamp, murdered, at the King's command, his uncle, the Duke of Gloucester, by throwing a featherbed on him, and pressing it down with the weight of their bodies until he was suffocated.

"He was a man of the most depraved character; object of execration to the whole kingdom. With and, according to Walsingham, a cotemporary, an Richard's secrets, habits, and manners, no one could be better acquainted.

He had, at one

time or other, contrived to steal Richard's signet, so The designation of the individual to whom the entries that, with the addition of a little forgery and address, refer by the title of King Richard, commences in 1408, he was well able to impose upon people, by means of and is continued up to 1417, two years before his supposititious letters from the Prince. When Richard's catastrophe happened, a total reverse, of course, fol- alleged death. Now, James I. of Scotland was caplowed in his fortunes-his previous dependence upon tured by the English in 1405; and upon this, accordRichard, so far from benefiting him, made him unco-ing to our author's conjecture, "The Scots having lost pular, and an object of distrust; and, finally, the apprehension of Hall, a party in Gloucester's murder, their king, seem to have resolved upon a ridiculous and but not so guilty as himself, with his full confession of absurd reprisal, by affecting to show that they also had all the particulars, rendered a stay in England no a rival monarch in custody." The first entry, in 1408, longer safe; and he, therefore, wisely lost no time in it is to be observed, is retrospective; referring to charges escaping to France." which had been incurred some time before.

An old authority, quoted by Leland, expressly states the fact, that Serle had stolen Richard's seal, and that he afterwards confessed having done so. Walsingham says that he forged the seal. Both agree that he made use of such a seal in the plot he now proceeded to get up. It is probable that Serle, either after making the required preparations, proceeded from France to Scotland, taking with him the puppet already mentioned, whose resemblance, in a certain degree, to Richard, is admitted; or, as he afterwards affirmed himself, having heard that there was such a person already personating Richard in Scotland, went over thither and joined him. Serle, at all events, confessed that this person was not Richard. Yet it clearly appears that it was, as we have said, his attempt alone, which gave rise to this first rumour of that King being alive.

"The y 1402," proceeds Mr Riddell, " seems to have been the time when the rumour of Richard's survival, countenanced by the Scots, made the greatest sensation; in 1403 we hear but little of it; and in 1404, the political atmosphere improving, Henry IV was induced to grant a general pardon to all state offenders; but, from this act of clemency, he specially excepts William Serle,' and Thomas Warde de Trumpington, que se pretende et feigne d'estre roy Richard."

Serle was afterwards taken; and, as already noticed, confessed the imposture in which he had been an actor. He confessed that Warde was not the late King

Richard. The pretensions of the latter, therefore, may be considered as disposed of. Now, as Mr Riddell states, it is not asserted by any authority, and never has been maintained, that after Maudelain's

imposture, there was more than one supposed Richard. Although Serle, however, after his capture, was hanged and quartered, Warde continued to be protected in Scotland; and he is indisputably the person whom the government of that country, during many years afterwards, professed to treat and occasionally brought forward as the English King. From a curious letter, written in 1407, by the Archbishop of Canterbury to Henry IV, and now, for the first time, printed from the original, preserved in the British Museum, we learn a few particulars respecting this individual. He is described by the Archbishop as stultus and fatuus, that is, a fool or idiot; and, although the word is partially defaced, there is every reason to believe that in another passage he is called famulus natus, one born a servant or domestic. Mr Riddell has shown, that there were various persons of the names of Wyarde and Warde (probably identical), in subordinate situations at the English Court, in the fourteenth century. Among others, it appears, from the Rolls of Parliament, that a John Warde was appointed, by Richard II, his pavilion maker, with certain fees and emoluments. If Thomas Warde of Trumpington was of this family, he would, of course, have had good opportunities of observing Richard's manner and address.

We now come to those entries in the Scottish Exchequer Rolls, respecting sums advanced, from time to time, by the Regent Albany, for the maintenance of the person asserted to be Richard II, upon which Mr Mr Riddell says in a Tytler lays so much stress. note: "The author had seen these entries, respecting the supposed Richard, nearly twenty years ago, in the Rolls in question, when he was examining them, but he cannot say that they made the impression upon him that they seem to have done upon Mr Tytler. They actually prove no more than what we previously knew, and is vouched for by our historians, including Bellenden,that a person was nominally held to be King Richard by the Scottish Government; nay, their nformation is restricted to this only, while the other sources are far more communicative.

for his sustenance and confinement, amounted to the "The funds," proceeds Mr Riddell," assigned both mighty sum of one hundred merks. In the year 1404, the salary of James Wedale, a macer in Exchequer, was keeper there cost two pounds. These facts may throw ten pounds, and at the same time the gown of the doorlight upon the amount of the sum expended on the supposed Richard, for it is well known that a merk was much less than a pound Scots, the value of the former being only thirteen shillings and four-pence of our (Scottish) money. Hence, it

must be confessed that the Scots attempted the deception at a cheap rate, and certainly with no regard to the conceived royalty and importance of their prisoner. We are here unavoidably forced to contrast his treatment with that of James I., a real monarch, when a captive in England. The difference is striking, even as we learn from Mr Tytler, who says that James I was provided with the best masters, treated with uniform kindness, and waited on with the honours due to his rank.""

Mr Riddell next proceeds to trace the future history of Warde, by the original notices of him which remain, with the view of showing that he remained in Scotland till his death. First, we find Henry IV. on the 29th of January 1409, conveying to another person the eight acres of land in Trumpington which had belonged to Warde, on the ground of his forfeiture, but without Kolls of Parliament, that during the investigations into any mention of his death. Then, it appears by the the March conspiracy, in 1415," it transpired that some Trumpington, an idiot,' of whom they were to avail persons had secretly cast their eyes upon Thomas of themselves like another Maudelain, and bring from Scotland to personify Richard." In 1415, therefore, our author continues, "Thomas of Trumpington is ex

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plicitly shewn to have been an idiot, capable of personifying Richard, and still resident in Scotland, where, under the appellation of the Scottish impostor, sequel. Now, in addition to all this, when we have he obviously figures in 1417, as will be seen in the the statement of the Scottish Winton, a cotemporary, upon whom, too, Mr Tytler places such great reliance, and who had no access to English writers or authorities, that the Scottish Richard was crazed, while he also questions his royalty, can we, under these circumstances, entertain a doubt of the identity of the latter with Warde, especially when there is not a tittle of evidence, or even plausible surmise, to shake or rebut It is humbly conceded that the point is established to demonstration, and in a way not only remarkable, but hardly to be expected in a matter of antiquity. It may be only here added, that a Tractat of a part of ye Inglis Cronikle,' printed at the Auchinlech Press, from the Aslowan Manuscript, states in reference to the supposed Richard, that he "deit a beggar and out of his mynd, and was erdit (buried) in the Black Freris in Striviling." It is curious that two years before the death of the latter his pension was stopped, the Scots being at last tired of the imposture."

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During the whole time that the Scottish Government detained Warde, or the pseudo-Richard, it is unquestionable that they did not venture to make a hostile exhibition of him. As is proved by the Scottish Exchequer Rolls, he was kept in close custody, and not allowed to exceed the bounds of his imprisonment. This is fully explained by the circumstance of the imposture; if brought into view, his madness and ignorance, if not appearance also, would soon have unmasked him; and hence it was

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impracticable to send him to the borders, or to
enable him to act against England.
is also remarkable, his seclusion in Scotland was not
owing to any wish of the Regent Albany to con-
ciliate the English, or in consequence of an inte
independently of other things, by a letter of Henry V.
rested system of forbearance, because it is proved,
(in Ellis's Original Letters,') that Albany, in 1417,
had conspired with his enemies to dispatch the
pseudo-Richard to England with hostile intentions
latter, here, is appropriately styled the 'Mamuet'
(the words are,
"to stir what he may "). The
(that is, the impostor, or puppet,) of Scotland.'
The will, therefore, of making the most of the phan-

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tom, was not wanting to Albany, but merely the power, and, accordingly, however he might threaten, he could not act; and, therefore, while he fed his allies with such vain hopes in order to annoy the English, the enterprize, as it is hardly necessary to add, being quite impracticable, proved abortive. ✦ * "The conduct of the Scots towards the pseudoRichard, is strikingly contrasted with the treatment of James I. by the English, of whose reality there could be no doubt. They had no scruple in exhibiting him upon all occasions; they not only recognized him as a prince, but actually treated him as one, giving him the seat of honour beside Catherine the wife of Henry V. at the festival of her coronation; played him in front of the English and French ar nay, they even carried him into France, and dis mies, that his presence might recall his subjects from the French ranks, and induce them to side with the English. It is further remarkable, that many of the Scots resorted to James during his captivity, that they might behold and converse with their lawful monarch, nor does it appear that access was denied them. * But so far from this, the supposed Richard is carefully withheld from English inspection, and while, after all, but a harmless instrument in the hands of his detainers, is ever veiled in that mystery and concealment which are the sure indications of imposture. A circumstance mentioned by Bower, may illustrate the policy of the Scots in this respect. In the year 1405, or thereabouts, the Earl of Northumberland, then the enemy of Henry IV., but who had resolved to support the cause of Richard II., if alive, having fled to Scotland, desired, naturally enough, to converse with this counterfeit, but no, he found it impossible, for the latter would not see him-although, the historian adds, that Albany used his efforts to promote the interview. Any person, with but little penetration, may discover that this was a mock interference on the part of the latter; for if he had been sincere on the occasion, the supposed Richard, whether he wished it or not, could easily have been brought into view. But Albany knew well that the exhibition of the stranger and idiot to one like Northumberland, who had been intimately acquainted with the real Richard, would have unmasked the imposture, and, therefore, it may be inferred, wisely enough, laboured in secret to frustrate the object of the nobleman.

We must say that we think all this is abundantly conclusive. But Mr Riddell has, in the course of his able dissertation, adverted also to many minor points, which we have not space to notice. Several curious matters, besides the main subject of the investigation, are also incidentally illustrated,

The second tract is entitled, 'Observations upon the other points in Mr Napier's Memoirs of Merchiston.' representation of the Rusky and Lennox Families, and It is likewise full of curious matter, though its leading objects and conclusions are of less general interest.

Of the third and last tract also, we can only now

give the title. It is Upon the Law of Legitimation per Subsequens Matrimonium,' or that principle of the Scottish law which, on the marriage of the parents, legitimizes the children born to them at any previous time. Mr Riddell's investigation of the history of this principle, and of the manner in which it appears to have crept into, and established itself in, the law of Scotland, is perhaps at once the most novel and the mest important deduction in the book. At the present moment, when the subject of the Scottish law of marriage, in all its parts, is about to be brought before Parliament, the present Essay possesses peculiar interest.

MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS.

The Poetical Works of John Milton. Edited by Sir Egerton Brydges, Bart. With Imaginative Illustrations. By J. M. W. Turner, Esq. R. A. Vol. I. London. Macrone.

THIS volume contains the life of our great epic poet, which is written with considerable taste and feeling by Sir Egerton Brydges, and which, though not uniformly fair, certainly does infinitely more justice to the genius and moral character of Milton than the Memoir of Dr Johnson that still precedes the 'Paradise Lost,' and the other poems, in nearly all our cheap and popular editions.

Johnson's political feelings and high-church predilections, which he nursed until they became absolute passions, the whole turn of his mind, and all his habits of life, peculiarly unfitted him to be the biographer of the republican and puritan John Milton; and to this must be added, that Johnson had no taste whatsoever for the high and imaginative order of

poetry, and would have been inclined to disparage that of Milton even without the bias of party and polemics.

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On his side the present biographer has also tastes and aspirations wholly at variance with those of the foreign secretary of the Commonwealth and friend of Cromwell. Sir Egerton Brydges is enamoured of the pomp and power of royalty, the recollections of feudality, the honours of ancient descent, the distinctions of names and ranks, and he loves the title of "My Lord," with a passion amounting almost to insanity. But Sir Egerton, unlike Johnson, appreciates and most enthusiastically admires Milton's poetry, and, though he hates his politics, he charitably makes allowances, acquits him of all base motives, and only in one instance admits that Milton's conduct is to be for ever condemned or deplored. The animus of the work is indeed all charity and affection towards the blind bard, but if Milton could rise from the dead he would frown indignantly at the excuses put in by the biographer for the very writings and doings in which he most gloried, and he would protest with a "trumpet-blast" against the attempt to exonerate him at the expense of his party and the moral character of the people of England.

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It is precisely in these uncalled-for excuses and shiftings of responsibility and blame-in the mawkish regrets that Milton should ever have taken part in public affairs, or composed those disputatious prose works which, in their day, produced more effect than fleets and armies, that the objectionable part of this memoir by Sir Egerton Brydges chiefly lies, and it really destroys one's equanimity to hear him labour and plead for the author of Defensio pro Populo Anglicano,' as though he were pleading for one who is at the same time his pet, and a criminal.

In spite of these objections, we have been greatly pleased with parts of the book. Sir Egerton thus states his motives for writing it

"I am conscious what talents far above mine it requires to treat adequately the subject I have here undertaken; but others, as weak as I am, have already entered on the task with less respectfulness and less love, and I am willing to attempt to wipe away some of the stains they have left. For fifty years I have had an unquenchable desire to refute Johnson's perverse criticisms and malignant obloquies. I know not by what spell his authority over the public is still great."

We think he has been completely successful in his refutation of the criticism, and, (as far as Milton's private life is concerned,) of the malignant obloquies. Sir Egerton's running commentary on the different poems is exceedingly animated and agreeable; his sympathy with Milton's muse, the chaste and holy Urania, is warm and almost complete; and he generally speaks as a man thoroughly in earnest, whose heart's core glows with his subject and pours out the loving admiration he gives voice to. Admitting generally the justice of his criticism, we cannot, however, help thinking that he estimates too lowly those exquisite compositions, L'Allegro' and 'Il Pensieroso.'

The materials for Milton's private life are not very numerous, and though our biographer has put together such as exist in an agreeable manner, he has not added to them. By far the most interesting of these materials are derived from Milton's own works

-from the very prose works which Sir Egerton repeatedly deplores he should ever have written. As this cheap and elegant edition is calculated to have a large circulation among the people, we are, however, of opinion that by giving these passages, which in the original are mostly in Latin, in good plain idiomatic English, our biographer has done good service to the public and to the cause of liberty, for Milton hardly ever speaks of himself, of his sufferings and his misfortunes, except in connection with that great cause, or with the subject of education, which he ever considered as the only sure basis of a rational and lasting freedom.

Most of our Readers will remember, that when Milton wrote Paradise Lost,' 'Paradise Regained,' and 'Samson Agonistes,' (the three greatest of his works) he was stone-blind; but many may not be aware how he lost his sight, or know of the existence

of a splendid passage we are about to quote, and which is given in Sir Egerton Brydges' volume. Milton's eyes, which, as he tells us himself, "were naturally weak," were sadly injured by night-reading and the intensity of his study from his childhood upward. In the scrupulous unflinching performance of the most laborious duties of his office as Latin Secretary to the Commonwealth, and in his incessant efforts to defend with the pen the cause he had embraced, he completely lost the sight of one of his eyes in the year 1651. Nor even then, though fully aware of his impending fate, would he in any way relax his exertions, nor would he lay down the pen which he conscientiously believed he used for the best interests of his country and mankind, until for him it was "total eclipse all night "—until (in 1652) he had lost the sight of both his eyes, and, as he says in a pathetic sonnet, "lost them overplied in liberty's defence."

The melancholy news of his blindness had no sooner gone abroad than Du Moulin, an author retained by that religious and virtuous prince, Charles II, announced to the world that the poet's calamity was a visitation or judgment of the Almighty. To this savage and blasphemous assumption, Milton replied—

"I wish that I could with equal facility refute what this barbarous opponent has said of my blindness; but It I cannot do it, and I must submit to the affliction. enduring blindness. But why should I not endure a is not so wretched to be blind, as it is not to be capable of misfortune, which it behoves everyone to endure if it should happen, which may, in the common course of things, happen to any man, and which has been known to have happened to the most distinguished and virtuous persons in history? What is reported of the Augur Tiresias is well known, of whom Apollonius sung thus in his Argonautics :'

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To men he dared the will divine disclose, Nor feared what Jove might in his wrath impose. The Gods assign'd him age without decay, But snatch'd the blessing of his sight away.' "But God himself is truth; in propagating which, as men display a greater integrity and zeal, they approach nearer to the similitude of God, and possess a greater portion of his love. We cannot suppose the Deity envious of truth, or unwilling that it should be freely communicated to mankind: the loss of sight, therefore, which this inspired sage, who was so eager in promoting knowledge among men, sustained, cannot be considered as a judicial punishment: and did not our Saviour himself declare, that that poor man whom he

had restored to sight had not been born blind either on account of his own sins, or those of his progenitors?

"And with respect to myself, though I have accurately examined my conduct, and scrutinized my soul, I call thee, O God, the searcher of hearts, to witness that I am not conscious, either in the more early or in the later periods of my life, of having committed any enormity which might deservedly have marked me out as a fit object for such a calamitous visitation; but since my enemies boast that this affliction is only a retribution for the transgressions of my pen, I again invoke the Almighty to witness that I never at any time wrote anything which I did not think agreeable to truth, to justice, and to piety. This was my persuasion, then, and I feel the same persuasion now. Thus, therefore, when I was publicly solicited to write a reply to the defence of the royal cause, when I had to contend with the pressure of sickness, and with the apprehension of soon losing the sight of my remaining eye, and when my medical attendants clearly announced, that if I did engage in this work it would be irreparably lost, their premonitions caused no hesitation, and inspired no dismay: I would not have listened to the voice even of Esculapius himself from the shrine of Epidauris, in preference to the suggestions of the heavenly monitor within my breast. My resolution was unshaken, though the alternative was either the loss of my sight, or the desertion of my duty; and I

called to mind those two destinies which the oracle of Delphi announced to the son of Thetis.

"I considered that many had purchased a less good by a greater evil, the meed of glory by the loss of life; but that I might procure great good by little suffering; that, though I were blind, I might still discharge the most honourable duties, the performance of which, as it is something more durable than glory, ought to be an object of superior admiration and esteem; I resolved, therefore, to make the short interval of sight which was left me to enjoy as beneficial as possible to the public interest.

"But, if the choice were necessary, I would, Sir, prefer my blindness to yours; yours is a cloud spread over the mind, which darkens both the light of reason and of conscience; mine keeps from the view only the coloured surfaces of things, while it leaves me at liberty to contemplate the beauty and stability of virtue and of truth. How many things are there besides, which

I would not willingly see; how many which I must see against my will; and how few which I feel any anxiety to see! There is, the Apostle has remarked, a way to strength through weakness. Let me then be the most feeble creature alive, as long as that feebleness serves to invigorate the energies of my rational and immortal spirit; as long as in that obscurity, in which I am enveloped, the light of the Divine presence more clearly shines! And, indeed, in my blindness, I enjoy in no inconsiderable degree the favour of the Deity; who regards me with more tenderness and compassion in proportion as I am able to sults me, who maligns and merits public execration! behold nothing but himself. Alas! for him who inFor the Divine law not only shields me from injury, but almost renders me too sacred to attack; not indeed so much from the privation of my sight, as from the overshadowing of those heavenly wings, which seem to have occasioned this obscurity. To this I ascribe the more tender assiduities of my friends, their soothing attentions, their kind visits, their reverential observ ances."-Defensio Secunda pro Populo Anglicano; or Second Defence for the English People.

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THIS is not a treatise on geology: but it is a book which professes to teach persons but slightly acquainted with that science "how to observe" facts of importance, which might otherwise pass unnoticed. The very prominent place which geology has, within a recent period, assumed, and the increased attention which it is receiving, have rendered such a work as this a very great desideratum to a large number of persons, especially to students and travellers. In all sciences based on observation, and in every branch of knowledge, whether called a science or not, nothing is acquired by a beginner with more slowness and difficulty than the power of distinguishing the facts that are not, from those that are, really worthy of attention, and what are the really essential circumstances in each fact.

It has generally been thought that this faculty or power could not be preceded by, but must result from great acquirements and much experience in any particular branch of knowledge. That it must thus be acquired in its perfection, there can be no dispute; but were it possible that some portion of it might be communicated to those who are yet young in science, not only would their course be smoothed and their labour much diminished, but many more persons than can now be so usefully employed, would be placed in a condition for observing facts which have not come under the notice of experienced observers, and which might yet materially conduce to the advancement of knowledge. Mr De la Beche has, in the work before us, demonstrated the practicability of this in the instance of geology; and in the continuation of the series, of which the present is the first volume, the process is to be exthe most sanguine expectations of the good likely to tended to other branches of knowledge. We have result from this attempt; the effect of which must be to multiply a thousand fold the hands dispersed abroad throughout the world, gathering, in unexplored places, the facts which are necessary to the nourishment and growth of knowledge.

Such instruction as is thus afforded must be of

particular value to travellers, or rather to the world through them. It seldom happens, that those who have opportunities of exploring distant regions and accumulating unregistered facts, are those best qualified to turn such advantages to account. Therefore, to teach persons to whom, in the circumstances of life, such opportunities are afforded, “how to observe," is to confer a great boon, not less on

science than on the traveller himself.

How on

science, we have already seen; and how on the traveller is easily shown. We speak from some experience, when we say, in this matter of geology, for instance, that nothing can be more annoying to one who has occasion to travel in regions not often visited by any, and never by men of science, than to

feel his own inability to observe and register facts which would be no less creditable to himself than useful to science. There is also much mortification and some shame attending the consciousness, that one is unable to make any use of opportunities which a man of science would prize beyond expression. Hitherto, travellers have been able to escape pretty well, in consideration of the long previous study of the science which, it was supposed, could alone qualify them to contribute to its advancement; but now that they are taught "how to observe," without any intimate acquaintance with the science being necessary, we really do not know what excuse will remain for them.

The book is illustrated with plenty of wood-cuts and diagrams, a specimen of which, as well as of the text of the work, we give the Reader in the following

extract:

ABRASION OF COASTS BY WAVES.

"We may here notice this power, which is the greatest land-abrading force with which we are acquainted, particularly when its effects are collectively considered.

"Properly to estimate the effects of this power, the observer should be present on some exposed coast, such as that of the western part of Ireland, the Land's End, Cornwall, or among the Western Islands

"When, however, a great mass of cliff does fall, in the manner noticed above, the observer should direct his attention to its conservative influence, Το

"If the mass of fallen rock be stratified, much will depend upon the face presented to the breakers; for if it fall so that the plane of the beds remains sloping seaward, as in the above figure, it will act as a well

the future destruction of the cliff will bo far more rapid, and its conservative influence consequently less." Pp. 52-56.

There is more on the subject to which the above extract relates, but we reserve our space for another extract from the concluding part of the volume, which treats of the application of geology to the useful purposes of life. The following is part of what is said under the head of Building :

"The observer desirous of selecting a stone to be exposed to atmospheric influences, would do well to

of Scotland, during a heavy gale from the westward, and mark the crash of a heavy Atlantic billow when it strikes the coast. The blow is sometimes so heavy that the rock will seem to tremble beneath his feet.

He will generally find in such situations, that though the rocks are scooped and caverned into a thousand fantastic shapes, they are still hard rocks, for no others could continue to resist long the almost incessant action of such an abrading force. Having witnessed such a scene, he will be better able to appreciate the effects, even though the waves be inferior in size, upon the softer rocks of other coasts.

"An observer will scarcely have long directed his attention to the abrading power of waves breaking on coasts, before he will discover many circumstances which modify the effects that would be otherwise produced. He will see that the abrasion of coasts is often greatly assisted by land-springs, as they are termed, that, as it were, shove the cliff into the power of the breakers by moistening a body of rock, which thus loses its cohesive powers, and is launched in the direction of least resistance, or seaward. Other encroachments are made by the fall of masses of cliff, undermined by the waves, the cohesive power of the rock not being equal to its weight, or the action of gravity downwards. If, as in the annexed sketch, a rock be even sufficiently cohesive in the mass, to admit of the considerable excavation there represented without falling, a time must come, if the breakers continue to work in the same direction, when the weight of the superincumbent mass would be such that it must fall.

appreciate this, he will consider the hardness of the rock, the position in which it has fallen, and its new power of breaking the waves further from the coast.

contrived wall erected to defend the cliff: but if the beds should be exposed vertically after the fall, as in the subjoined figure,

study the mode in which it is weathered in the locality whence it is obtained. He may there learn which part, if it be a compound rock, is liable to give way before such influences, and the conditions under which it does so. Granite, generally, is considered a proper material for national monuments. Some granites, however, though they may be hard and difficult to work when first taken from a quarry, are among the worst building materials, in consequence of the facility with which the felspar in them decomposes when exposed to the action of a wet atmosphere, in a climate which may be warm during part of the year, and cold during the other. Rocks which contain compact felspar are often very durable. Some of

the elvans, as they are provincially termed, of Cornwall, seem to be particularly durable when exposed to atmospheric influences; for some of the old and external carved stone work of the churches constructed with this material in that part of England, is as perfect as when first put up.

"Rocks which readily absorb moisture, such as ceedingly bad for the external portions of exposed many of those which are termed freestones, are expublic buildings; since, in counties where frosts occur, the freezing of the water in the wet surface continually peels off the latter, and eventually destroys the ornamental work carved upon it. It should be recollected that freestones, so termed because they are easily worked, are often valued because they may be cut readily when first taken from the quarry, and subsequently become harder when exposed to the atmosphere; and that this quality arises from the evaporation of the water contained in the stone when forming part of the natural rock. Now, some of these freestones again readily absorb moisture, while others do not, and an observer should ascertain this fact by experiment before any given freestone is selected.

"Some freestones are formed of particles of sand cemented together by different substances, the cementing matter being sometimes siliceous, at others calcareous, and at others again formed of oxide of iron. In the first case, the freestone would not suffer from the chemical action of atmospheric influences upon it; while, in the second, rain water containing carbonic acid would tend to dissolve the calcareous matter, and deprive the sand of its cement; and, in the third, the action of atmospheric influences would tend to render the material unsightly by staining it with iron

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"The little attention that has been paid, in the erection of national monuments in this country, to the durability of the materials of which they are constructed, is well known. There is no want of good materials if they would be sought out; and it often occurs to the geologist to find them. A more beautiful stone for public works can no where be obtained than from a mass of white granite near Okehampton, in Devonshire. Judging from the weathered character of this rock, it must be extremely durable. It is composed of white felspar, quartz, and mica, and looks as white as statuary marble. Hitherto, we believe, this beautiful material has only been formed into one or two chimney-pieces."-Pp. 308-311..

TO CORRESPONDENTS.

FROM among various expressions of regret which we have received from the old readers of the PRINTING MACHINE, at the discontinuance of that JOURNAL as a separate publication, we have to notice a letter signed CARTHUSIA NUS, for the kind terms of which we beg to return the writer our thanks. As for the points which he suggests, we had not failed to give them our best consideration while arranging our new plan; but we came to the conclusion (on the representation of those most conversant with such matters), that the complexity of separate pagings for the two works would be likely to be felt rather as an annoyance than an accommodation by the great majority of readers. It is a plan which has been repeatedly tried, but has never, as we understand, given satisfaction, or succeeded. Let us add, that, while, for convenience sake, the two departments of the JOURNAL will be kept under separate superintendence, our object is, that they should nevertheless be really united and incorporated-that they should form one, not two works. We apprehend (besides all other considerations) that we thus take a ground on which we stand still more distinctly alone among the publications of our class than even the LONDON JOURNAL has hitherto done, and that we attain a comprehensiveness beyond that of any other such publication. We look to this entire and cordial partnership for much of our expected success. Then, as for commencing a new volume, in other words an entirely new work, with our present number, although of course we should have been glad to do so for the sake of the purchasers of the PRINTING MACHINE, we felt that it would have been unfair to the much more numerous purchasers of the LONDON JOURNAL to break the work, at so early a period of its existence, into two series. As the work, although extended and additionally diversified in its contents, still retains the form of the LONDON JOURNAL, and not that of the PRINTING MACHINE, it was thought proper that it should be in all other respects identified with the former. After all, the old readers of the PRINTING MACHINE who shall continue to take in the work in its present shape, are only in the same circumstances with all new subscribers to any work which has been for some time going on--although we confess we wish we could have relieved them entirely even from any inconvenience or disadvantage incidental to that position.

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LONDON:

CHARLES KNIGHT, 22 LUDGATE STREET

From the Stoam-Press of C. & W. REYNELL, Lite Pulteney-street.

LONDON JOURNAL

AND

THE PRINTING MACHINE.

SATURDAY, JUNE 20, 1835.

THE LONDON JOURNAL.

TO ASSIST THE INQUIRING, ANIMATE THE STRUGGLING, AND
SYMPATHISE WITH ALL.

"THE BUTCHER."

BUTCHERS AND JURIES.BUTLER'S DEFENCE OF THE
ENGLISH DRAMA, &c.

Ir was observed the other day in the LONDON JOUR-
NAL, that "butchers are wisely forbidden to be upon
juries; not because they are not as good as other men
by nature, and often as truly kind; but because the
habit of taking away the lives of sheep and oxen in-
ures them to the sight of blood, and violence, and
mortal pangs."

The Times,' in noticing this passage, has corrected our error. There neither is, nor ever was, it seems, a law forbidding butchers to be upon juries; though the reverse opinion has so prevailed among all classes, that Locke takes it for granted in his Treatise on Education,' and our own authority was the author of 'Hudibras,' a man of very exact and universal knowledge. The passage that was in our mind is in his Posthumous Works,' and is worth

quoting on other accounts. He is speaking of those
pedantic and would-be classical critics who judge
the poets of one nation entirely by those of another.
Butler's resistance of their pretensions is the more
honourable to him, inasmuch as the prejudices of his
own education, and even the propensity of his genius,
But his
lay on the learned and anti-impulsive side.
judgment was thorough-going and candid.-The style

is of the off-hand careless order, after the fashion of
he old satires and epistles, though not so rough :-
"An English poet should be tried by his peers,
And not by pedants and philosophers,
Incompetent to judge poetic fury,
As butchers are forbid to be of a jury,
Besides the most intolerable wrong
To try their masters in a foreign tongue,
By foreign jurymen like Sophocles,
Or tales falser than Euripides,
When not an English native dares appear
To be a witness for the prisoner,-
When all the laws they use to arraign and try
The innocent and wrong'd delinquent by,
Were made by a foreign lawyer and his pupils,
To put an end to all poetic scruples;
And by the advice of virtuosi Tuscans,
Determin'd all the doubts of socks and buskins,--
Gave judgment on all past and future plays, „
As is apparent by Speroni's case,t
Which Lope Vega first began to steal,
And after him the French filout Corneille;
And since, our English plagiaries nim
And steal their far-fetch'd criticisms from him,
And by an action, falsely laid, of trover,§
The lumber for their proper goods recover,
Tales (Latin) persons chosen to supply the place of
men impannelled upon a jury or inquest, and not appear-
ing when called. [We copy this from a very useful and
pregnant volume, called the Treasury of Knowledge,' full
of such heaps of information as are looked for in lists and
Vocabularies, and occupying the very margins with pro-
verbs. Mr D'Israeli, sen., objects to this last overflow of
contents, but not, we think, with his usual good sense and
gratitude, as a lover of books. These proverbial sayings,
which are the most universal things in the world, appear
to us to have a particularly good effect in thus coming in
to refresh one among the technicalities of knowledge.]
+ Speroni, a celebrated critic in his day, and great
plaguer, among others, of Tasso.

Filou-pickpocket! This irreverent epithet must have startled many of Butler's readers and brother-loyalists of the court of Charles the Second. But he suffered nothing to stand in the way of what seemed to him a just opinion. Trover-an action for goods found, and not delivered on demand.-Treasury of Knowledge. Butler's wit dragged every species of information into his net.

[From the Steam-Press of C. & W. REYNELL, Little Pulteney-street.

No. 64.

Enough to furnish all the lewd impeachers
Of witty Beaumont's poetry and Fletcher's,
Who for a few misprisions of wit,

Are charg'd by those who ten times worse commit,
And for misjudging some unhappy scenes,
Are censured for it with more unlucky sense:
(How happily said!)

When all their worst miscarriages delight
And please more than the best that pedants write."
Having been guilty of this involuntary scandal
against the butchers, we would fain make them
amends by saying nothing but good of them and
their trade; and truly if we find the latter part of
the proposition a little difficult, they themselves are
for the most part a jovial, good-humoured race, and
can afford the trade to be handled as sharply as their
beef on the block. There is cut and come again in
them. Your butcher breathes an atmosphere of good
living. The beef mingles kindly with his animal
nature. He grows fat with the best of it, perhaps
with inhaling its very essence; and has no time to
grow spare, theoretical, and hypochondriacal, like
those whose more thinking stomachs drive them
upon the apparently more innocent but less easy and
analogous intercommunications of fruit and vege-
tables.

For our parts, like all persons who think at
all,-nay, like the butcher himself, when he catches
himself in a strange fit of meditation, after some
doctor perhaps has kept him low," we confess to an
abstract dislike of eating the sheep and lamb that we
see in the meadow; albeit our concrete regard for
mutton is considerable, particularly Welsh mutton.
But Nature has a beautiful way of reconciling all ne-
cessities that are unmalignant; and as butchers at
present must exist, and sheep and lambs would not
exist at all in civilised countries, and crop the sweet
grass so long, but for the brief pang at the end of it,
he is as comfortable a fellow as can be,-one of the
liveliest ministers of her mortal necessities,-of the
deaths by which she gives and diversifies life; and has
no more notion of doing any harm in his vocation,
than the lamb that swallows the lady-bird on the
thyme. A very pretty insect is she, and
has had a pretty time of it; a very calm, clear feel
ing, healthy, and, therefore, happy little woollen
giant, compared with her, is the lamb,-her butcher;
and an equally innocent and festive personage is the
butcher himself, notwithstanding the popular fal-
lacy about juries, and the salutary misgiving his
beholders feel when they see him going to take the
lamb out of the meadow, or entering the more tragical
doors of the slaughter-house. His thoughts, while
knocking down the ox, are of skill and strength,
and not of cruelty. And the death, though it may
not be the very best of deaths, is, assuredly,
none of the very worst. Animals, that grow old in

an artificial state, would have a hard time of it in a

lingering decay. Their mode of life would not
have prepared them for it. Their blood would not run
lively enough to the last. We doubt even whether
the John Bull of the herd, when about to be killed,
would change places with a very gouty, irritable
old gentleman; or be willing to endure a grievous
being of his own sort, with legs answering to the
gout; much less if Cow were to grow old with him,
and plague him with endless lowings, occasioned by
the loss of her beauty, and the increasing insipidity
of the hay. A human being who can survive those
ulterior vaccinations must indeed possess some great

PRICE TWOpence.

reliefs of his own, and deserve them, and life may reasonably be a wonderfully precious thing in his eyes; nor shall excuse be wanting to the vaccinators, and what made them such, especially if they will but grow a little more quiet and ruminating. But who would have the death of some old, groaning, aching, effeminate, frightened, lingerer in life, such as Mæcenas for example, compared with a good, jolly knock-down blow, at a reasonable period, whether of hatchet or of apoplexy,-whether the bull's death or the butcher's? Our own preference, it is true, is for neither. We are for an excellent, healthy, happy life, of the very best sort; and a death to match it, going out calmly as a summer's evening. Our taste is not particular. But we are for the knock-down blow, rather than the death-in-life.

The butcher, when young, is famous for his health, strength, and vivacity, and for his riding any kind of horse down any sort of hill, with a tray before him, the reins for a whip, and no hat on his head. It was a gallant of this sort that Robin Hood imitated, when he beguiled the poor Sheriff into the forest, and shewed him his own deer to sell. The old ballads apostrophize him well as the "butcher so bold," or better-with the accent on the last syllable, "thou bold butcher." No syllable of his was to be trified with. The butcher keeps up his health in middle life, not only with the food that seems so congenial to flesh, but with rising early in the morning, and going to market with his own or his master's cart. When more sedentary, and very jovial and good humoured, he is apt to expand into a most analogous state of fat and smoothness, with silken tones and a short breath,-harbingers, we fear, of asthma and gout; or the kindly apoplexy comes, and treats him as he treated the ox.

When rising in the world, he is indefatigable on Saturday nights, walking about in the front of those white-clothed and joint-abounding open shops, while the meat is being half-cooked beforehand with the gas-lights. The rapidity of his "What-d'ye-buy ?" on these occasions is famous; and both he and the good housewives, distracted with the choice before them, pronounce the legs of veal "beautiful—exceedingly."

How he endures the meat against his head, as he carries it about on a tray, or how we endure that he should do it, or how he can handle the joints as he does with that habitual indifference, or with what floods of hot water he contrives to purify hmself of the exoterical part of his philosophy on going to bed, specimen of the triumph of the general over the we cannot say; but take him all in all, he is a fine particular.

The only poet, that was the son of a butcher (and the trade may be proud of him) is Akenside, who naturally resorted to the 'Pleasures of Imagination.' As to Wolsey, we can never quite picture him to ourselves apart from the shop. He had the cardinal butcher's virtue of a love of good eating, as his picture shews; and he was foreman all his life to the butcher Henry the Eighth. We beg pardon of the trade for this application of their name; and exhort them to cut the cardinal, and stick to the poet.

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