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OYSTERS.

The Athenians held oysters in great esteem. They were not common at Rome, and consequently fetched there a very high price; yet Macrobius assures us, that the Roman pontiffs never missed to have them on their tables. From the fourth century to the reign of Louis the Fourteenth, they were nearly forgotten; but they soon came again into vogue, and from that time have kept up their reputation. Gastronomers we know, can can swallow three or four dozen before dinner, and then sit down to eat heartily, and perhaps better than if they had abstained from them. They clear the stomach of accidental phlegm, increase the gastric juices, and by their natural coolness, condense the air which may be fixed in the organs of digestion. When good they are wholesome, but poisonous when bad.-Tabella Ciboria.

REVERSE OF FORTUNE.

When Amer, who had conquered Persia and Tartary, was defeated by Ismail, and was taken prisoner, he sat on the ground, and a soldier prepared a coarse meal to appease his hunger. As this was boiling in one of the pots used for the food of the horses, a dog put his head into it; but, from the mouth of the vessel being too mall, he could not draw it out again, and ran away with both the pot and the meat. The captive monarch burst into a fit of laughter; and one of his guards denanding what cause upon earth could induce a person n his situation to laugh, he replied, "It was but this morning the steward of my household complained that 300 camels were not enough to carry my kitchen furniure, how easily is it now borne by that dog, who hath arried away both my cooking instruments and dinner."

DANCES OF OUR ANCESTORS.

TO THE EDITOR.

999

Sir," Dancing was an almost daily amusement in he court of Elizabeth: the Queen was peculiarly fond this exercise, as had been her father, Henry the fighth; and the taste for it became so general during er reign, that a great part of the leisure of almost Tery class of society was spent (and especially on days A festivity) in dancing.

"To dance elegantly was one of the strongest recommendations to the favour of her Majesty; and her courfiers, therefore, strove to rival each other in this pleasing sccomplishment, nor were their efforts, in many insances, unrewarded. Sir Christopher Hatton, we are old, owed his promotion, in a great measure, to his kill in dancing; and, in accordance with this anecdote, Irey opens his "Long Story," with an admirable deription of his merit in this department, which, as containing a most just and excellent picture, both of the architecture and manners of "the days of good Queen Bess," as well as of the dress and agility of the night, I. with pleasure, transcribe. Stoke Pogeis, he scene of the narrative, was formerly in the possession f the Hattons."

"Ia Britain's Isle, no matter where,

An ancient pile of building stands ;
The Huntingdons and Hattons there
Employed the power of fairy hands.
"To raise the ceiling's fretted height

Each pannel in achievements clothing,
Rich windows that exclude the light,
And passages that lead to nothing.
"Full oft within the spacious walls

When he had fifty winters o'er him
My grave Lord Keeper led the brawls;
The seal and maces danced before him.

"His bushy beard, and shoe-strings green,

His high-crowned hat, and satin doublet, Moved the stout heart of England's Queen,

Tho' Pope and Spaniard could not trouble it." N. B.-If you think so far worth inserting in your next Kaleidoscope, I will finish it next week.

W. H. B.

HORE OTIOSE.

Written for the Kaleidoscope.]
No. III.

"And whistled as he went, for want of thought."
Bloomfield.

"Thoughts! what are they?
They are my constant friends;
Who, when harsh Fate his dull brow bends,
Uncloud me with a single ray;

And, in the depth of midnight, force a day."
Flatman.

[is ; Hear," "hear," resounds from all sides, whilst he assures the company that he joins in the triumph, and has not a doubt that the man they have chosen will do honour to their town, with as much gravity and energy as he yesterday made use of, when informing bis auditors, that upon their choice of him depended "their rights and liberties." This is a very general mode of seeking happiness; and who will affirm that such characters are guided by their reason. **

Is it then the case, that the world is at such great pains to procure happiness, and yet entirely neglects the source from which it springs? Here is a "man of fashion," who has spent so much time in learning the art of concealing his feelings; but who cannot altogether disguise the emptiness of his When we reflect that the pursuit of every indivi-brain. A single glance is often enough to convince dual in the world is happiness, and look with an you that he has no means of furnishing himself with attentive eye at their actions ; it is almost impossi-pleasure, without being in some degree dependant ble not to experience feelings bordering upon con- upon others; and by the foppery and precision of tempt; because every intelligent individual has, so his dress, he tells you that he is foolish enough to to speak, a fountain within himself, from which, suppose, that others pay as much attention to it, without the assistance or observation of others, he and to himself, as he does: he cannot retire into can draw continually supplies of happiness; aud himself, and draw forth "creatures at his bidding;" yet from which the mass of mankind turn away, to leave him by himself, and he soon exposes the vaseek for pleasure from sources whence it cannot be cancy of his mind, by breaking out into a whistle, so innocently purchased; nor, if at all to be ob- humming a tune, or adjusting his cravat. This is a tained, so enthusiastically enjoyed.

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very common character.

Observe with the least attention, the countenances Even of those who are not of so contemptible of any number of individuals, promiscuously taken; cast, who spend their leisure hours in reading; of how many will the mere look, the vacant un-how few, comparatively, who retain any of the ideas meaning countenance say, "I never think." Indeed of the authors in their original purity! Many read the avowed aim of a great part of the world, is to and admire a beautiful poem; but the pleasure they drive thought away; although it is capable of pro- derive from it is similar to that which we receive ducing the most innocent pleasure, at a very cheap from hearing a fine musical performance; the melody of the sound, the harmony of the notes, and the modulation of the tone, produce a soothing, or contrary effect on the mind, but yet leave no new ideas behind them; do not enlarge the soul, or cultivate the understanding; it pleases the ear, but produces no lasting effect on the mind; it occasions no thought; and is (though it is unfashionable to think so) consequently unproductive of lasting pleasure. The apophthegm, "that books are not intended to supersede the necessity of thought, but to furnish matter for thinking," is now reversed; few, comparatively speaking, remember what they read: of a poem, they will recollect the plot; but those bold or delicate touches, which constitute the life, energy, and beauty of poetry are forgotten; and, instead of presenting themselves to the imagination, and exhilarating the mind on future occasions, serve only to provide a momentary enjoyment; which cau but be prolonged by turning with the voracity of a tiger from book to book, and thus gorging the mind, without adding to the stock of ideas, or procuring any lasting benefit.

Here is a gentleman, determined to enjoy himself; and in search of enjoyment, rides away like one possessed, at full gallop, and at the risk of breaking his own and horse's neck, after a pack of hounds. What animation in that countenance, which is generally as unmeaning as that of the beast he rides! What exertion and irritation! and for what? he is about to enjoy the pleasure of "being in at the death" of a fox or a harmless hare. What "excellent spirit!" what "glorious fun!" What an exalted amusement for a rational being to partake of! And can this indeed be the case? is there so much pleasure to be experienced in witnessing the agonies of a dying beast? If so, might it not be purchased at a much easier rate, by his shooting one of the "yelping pack" that guide bim! No; this is not the intention. He is perhaps a feeling sort of a man, and would really feel some pain to see a dog or a hare killed in cold blood: but the animation of the scene; the amusement which the "sport" affords him, takes away the little humanity he possesses in his cooler moments; and thus his happiest, or, rather, his only happy hours, are spent in the chase.

The man who has learnt to think, although he frequently, passes with the world for a melancholy being, is susceptible of pleasures, of the intensity and delicacy of which the generality of mankind seem to have no conception. He cau enjoy the company of men, whose converse will improve, instruct, or amuse him, though without a companions for him," the desert blossoms with the rose." Re Ands innumerable pleasures at his control; and bas no occasion for those ingenious contrivances to

66

Let us see what this brood of idlers is about. And pray who is that gentleman addressing them with so much earnestness? With what animation he speaks! and how frequently the words, "My country;" "My conscience;" and "My God," embellish his address: his eyes seem ready to start out of his head, with the vehemence of his passion. Surely be is addressing his hearers upon a subject of the greatest importance. Oh no! merely an pass away time," upon which the happiness of so election business. He wishes to obtain the civic large a portion of the world depends. The ruined chair, which, in his opinion, is the only step to his abbey, the work of an age long passed by, is admired complete happiness. But his opponent must surely by the architect, on account of the beauty of its be a man who would, he is convinced, hurt or ruin style, or the grandeur of its proportions; and even his county; he talks with so much earnestness about of the most thoughtless, there are but few who do "preserving their rights and liberties," and so forth, not, upon beholding it, experience some mysterious that he, at least, must consider them in danger. feelings, with the nature of which they are unacNothing of the sort. You must know little of the quainted, and for which they cannot account. The world, to årgue thus. He differs not one degree man who is accustomed to seek for pleasure, by from his opponent, either in politics or principle. holding communion with himself, lives "amidst his Let us change the scene. Here is a very joyous own creations;" and he once more peoples it with which does not speak its owner satisfied. They are without the aid of the wand of fairies, or the ma. party of three or four hundred; not a countenance the mortals whose bones now rest beneath its shade; met to celebrate the election of the man, who suc-gician's spell, he calls up the spirits that once iuha. cessfully opposed our orator, But stop; there he bited the sacred spot, The organ again echoes

through the vaulted aisles; the "pealing anthem" | to be numbered with the most useful of domestic
or solemn dirge seems again to resound through the animals, and that we are even indebted to them as
lonely pile; the sandaled monk, and the veiled nuu; some of our kindest benefactors. Some say, love
the mitred abbot, and the venerable pilgrim, with me love my dog; I say, love me love my cat; and
all their "pomp and circumstance," pass in rapid I hope, therefore, when you write or when you speak
succession before him; and he is transported back of them agaiu, you will never term them inferior
from the period in which he lives, to those days for animals.—I will not conclude without being very
ever passed, when these characters actually existed; candid with you; and, therefore, you must know,
he enters into their views and feelings, and becomes, though I have been very angry with you, and at-
for a moment, what they appear to have been. It is tempted to be very severe, I think it is almost too
true, such illusions speedily pass away; but they bad; for I really like you-because, though you
leave behind them feelings of the most exalted and unfortunately term them inferior animals, yet you
refined description; and although such characters appear fond of them, as well as myself; and I admire
are frequently laughed at by the world, as melan- the manly spirit with which you seem disposed to
choly and enthusiastic, they, on the other hand, look defend them from ruffian cat-worriers.
upon the bulk of mankind with pity, rather than
contempt; and objects of pity indeed they appear
to be to any one who is capable of enjoying those
innocent pleasures, that are strewed on his path
through life; and which he finds to be not the less
delightful, because geuerally despised, or little
known.
M.

Correspondence.

I remain, Sir, your categorical servant,
TABITHA TORTOISESHELL.

December 30, 1820.

A FLAGGING TRADE.

TO THE EDITOR. SIR,As you are always ready to listen to the complaints of the poor, I have been enconraged to lay my case before you, which, I am sure 10 THE EDITOR. you will allow is a hard one. My trade is that of SIR,-You can scarcely imagine with what curio. a shoe-maker, in which 1 have been engaged for 30 sity my mind was filled when, in perusing the Notes years; and though I have had to support a wife and to Correspondents in your last Kaleidoscope, of the five children, I was always able to make a decent 26th inst. my eye was attracted by the conspicuous appearance at church, and to give an unbought words “Cruelty to inferior Animals." I naturally vote at an election. But my business has lately been expected to find it relating to rats, or mice, or toads, falling off, owing to the modern practice of flagging or such like animals, which to us seem, indeed, in the parapets of the streets, instead of paving them ferior, as being apparently, not only useless, but with rough sharp-pointed stones, as formerly; and plagues; judge then, Sir, my surprise when I found one of my best customers told me the other day, it referred to that useful and domestic animal the that where he used to wear two pair of shoes, he CAT. I really, Sir, was so shocked, that for the mo now only wears one. ́And this, Sir, is not my only meut I thought I could never forgive you, and al grievance; for you must know that I bad acquired most vowed I would never read your Kaleidoscope great reputation for my skill in 'cutting corns, by again, although bitherto it has so much interested which means 1 was enabled to add a few shillings me. But as I hope in these few lines to excite in every week to my little income; but this resource, you the wholesome feeling of repentance, and to Sir, is nearly gone; for my customers say, that by inake you bow to the opinion of a young female in contriving to walk only in the flagged streets, they favour of the tabby race, for the present I waive such suffer little pain from their corns, and hope soon to a dreadful resolution. I find, however, in my at- be relieved from them altogether. Unless something tempt to correct your most unpardonable mistake, is done to put a stop to this useless innovation, it is I am losing sight of a far worse enemy of the feline obvious one half of the trade will soon be obliged to species-the wretch who could so cruelly aud bru-quit their awl, and take refuge in a workhouse, or, tally ill use them. I only wish, Sir, in the house he if they persist in their present occupation, they must lives in, no cat may ever kill a rat, and that he may inevitably come to poverty at the last. be pestered to death with swarms of such agreeable visitors; perhaps his affection for this race may be so great, he is only spiteful to cats for the havoc they make amongst them. But, Sir, with regard to the domestic cat, what animal can be such an amusing and entertaining companion for single ladies? What can be more pleasing than to witness their gambols with our balls of cotton and worsted, as we are busied in the long winter evenings, uninterrupted by the troublesome intrusions of men whose only errauds are to deceive us, not to become possessed of our hearts as in olden times, but of our purses. To view them sitting before the fire on our footstools, their very countenances speaking as they sing and pur to us during the ceremonies of the tea table! to mark their fidelity as they follow us up and down stairs, from room to room, and even into the gar den and lanes, as mine do! What can evince greater courage, or present a more appalling appearance to an approaching enemy than when we behold them erecting their backs and swelling out every hair with an importance that at once equals or exceeds all that is terrific or grotesque, when disagreeable gentlemen enter our rooms with their odious dogs! In short, Sir, what can display greater strength or tractability, than when they are viewed so triumphantly charioteering the celebrated Mr. Usher in bis comic

and wondrous evolution! When, in addition to all this, we find them our best protectors from the horrors and depredations of the most noctious vermin, i will maintain that they are entitled to our highest admiration and our constant care; that they deserve

Your humble servant,
THOMAS PINCHER.
No. 20, Cable-street, 26th Dec. 1820.

TO THE EDITOR.

The article in your paper of the 19th ult. (Dec. 1820,) headed "ČOKE," reminding me of the melancholy fate of an entire family, who were said to have perished from a very similar case, induced me to make farther inquiries from M. A. Y. the intelligent old gentleman from whom I had heard of the catastrophe.

It seems that about forty years since, a family of labouring people resided in a cellar under a house uear the bottom of Stanley-street. At the rear of their subterranean dwelling there stood a lime kilu; and some bricks in the wall being loose, and the wind setting full upon the house, it filled the cellar with the noxious vapour, and the entire family, said to consist of five persons, perished. It is said that a dog met its death that night, whilst a cat was found alive.

According to the recollection of some elderly people, those persous all perished just in the atti. tudes in which they had gone to sleep, without any signs of having struggled, or any marks of their features having been convulsed by the agonies, or

more properly, the process of death.

to your useful and interesting miscellany, is to corroborate the warning voice raised by the author of the article alluded to, relative to the dangerous properties of Coke, when used in close and confined apartments.

The old race who were living when the melan choly event happened, are mostly gone to their last home; and by the next generation it has been for. gotten. This revival of the narrative may, by possibility, preserve others from a similar fate. Liverpool, 20th Dec, 1820.

To Correspondents.

SELECTOR is entitled to our thanks for the readine he has expressed to contribute to our series of choim selections, under the head GLEANER; a department of our work upon which we set such value, that we would not willingly dispense with it, even to supply its place with an equal quantity of original matter, however valuable. The collection of such amu and instructive extracts comprehended in a scris the volumes of the Kaleidoscope, will be more in quently reverted to than any other department of er work. It has been often observed, that reading, accompanied with occasional transcription of select sages or memorable facts into a common-place bock, fails in its principal aim, which is not mere amusement, but an extension of the sphere of our knowledge and experience. Few persons, however, will be at the pas requisite to form such a collection, for themselves; and their reading resembles the journey of a traveler, vi drives through a country, either in the night time, e with his carriage blinds closed. There are not many works, consisting entirely of such selections as the with which we should wish to store our Gleaner; the Curiosities of Literature and Mr. Southey's Om are of the number; and, in our estimation, of me value than almost any other works of correspond bulk. Our readers who view this subject in the si light as ourselves, will-have no objection to our saving them the trouble of transcribing the most memorable passages of esteemed works, and depositing them t our Gleaner, ready for their ready reference at my future time, by the help of the index appended to volumes. For these reasons, we shall most willgly avail ourselves of the profered aid of SELECTOR DON JUAN.-The Don Juan of Lord Byron is favourite with the public, notwithstanding the sive carelessness exhibited in its composition, strange jumble of pathos and bathos, and what ad much greater importance, its occasional grosz The peculiar construction of the verse affords s latitude to the writer, that it will probably become precedent to many an irregular genius, whose s too flighty or capricious to be kept down to the and

nary pace.

Having in our "mind's eye" the test of Molic read over to a shrewd and ancient female r the first canto of "Liverpool," which will be i in our poetical department; and as the old in laughed heartily at certain passages, and could not avoid joining in the laugh, we conchial that our readers would laugh too; and there decided upon its publication. The writer who st bles as he tells us in a very gay mood, will p ceive that we have taken an occasional liberty w him for instance, we have lopped off his ( toe we had written, but we mean his)** fr which now and then occurred in the sense of the French" pour." In taking our leave of him, must express our wish to see the promised contin tion of his whimsical piece; not doubting tha will see the propriety of avoiding those faults which not even the beauties of Byron can atone the estimation of a correct mind.

NEW DISPENSARY.-The letter of A Suscr
arising out of that of JUNIUS inserted in our
publication, shall be given next week.
HISTORICAL QUERIES.-We have been favoured w
two replies to the historical queries contained in o
last; and shall probably select the shorter one
publication.

We shall give an explanation to S. E. N. in our next
Further Acknowledgments.—A SUBSCRIBER

The lime kiln is said to have stood about a dozen yards from the building; and was removed after this WELL-WISHER.-W.M. P.-Ego.-H. Sr. Jogy deplorable consequence arising from its vicinity. The only object for preparing this small tribute Liverpool; Printed and published by E. Smith & Ca

OR,

Literary and Scientific Mirror.

No. 29.-NEW SERIES.

Original Essay.

No. IV.

ON THE AFFECTIONS OF THE MIND.

(Written expressly for the Kaleidoscope.)

"It is our trick; nature her custom holds,
Let shame say what it will; when these are gone,
The woman will be out."
Shakspeare.

It was the fate of Herodes Atticus, an Atheian of Consular dignity, to lament the death of a oung, and dear friend, whom he had lost in Greece. a his grief he was incessantly annoyed by the mpertinent sophistry of a stoic, who contended hat it was heneath the dignity and wisdom of a san to give way to the feelings and passions of ature. The reply of the mourner was dignified and elegant. No man, he said, who felt and acted ip to nature, could be totally devoid of the pasdous and affections of the heart: that the griefs, the desires, the fears, and the joys of mortals, were is much the causes of their happiness as of their

nisery; and that even if it were possible to tear them from our breasts, it would be hurtful, if not

criminal to do so; for that the mind would then

“UTILE DULCI.”

TUESDAY, JANUARY 16, 1821.

66

PRICE 31d.

-Funus interim

ash, tearing up the creeping vine-sprouts, and am-
putating the useless scions of the apple-trees: he Procedit: sequimur: ad sepulcrum venimus;
approached him, and requested to know why he de- In ignem imposita'st: fletur: Interea hæc soror,
stroyed so much of what was luxuriant and beauti- Quam dixi, ad flammam accessit imprudentius,
ful in leaf and bough? That my land may be trimm Satis cum periclo. Ibi tum exanimatus Pamphilus
Bene dissimulatum amorem, et celatum indicat.
and open, he replied, and my vines and olives more Adcurrit: mediam mulierem amplectitur:
fruitful. The Thracian departed after bestowing a Mea Glycerium, inquit, quid agis? cur te is perditum ?
profusion of thanks, and under the joyful convic-Tum illa, ut consuetuni facile amorem cerneres,
tion that he had now acquired a thorough knowledge Rejecit se in eum, flens quam familiariter."
of the management of the vineyard. But he had
no sooner got home, than he set to work with the

Andrea, Act 1. Scene 1.
pruning-hook, extirpated the most healthy of his excelled all others in painting the tender affections
Virgil, the most sensitive of poets, has probably
olives and vines, and mixed all in one commou of the heart. The fourth book of the Æneid, which
ruin, without distinction of briar, bramble, or the describes the impetuous love of Dido, a love which
most valuable of his fruit-trees. When it was too could wither all the kindly feelings of the heart, and
late, he saw and confessed with a sigh, that his which could drive its victim to distraction and self-
unskilful hands had converted the land of the murder, is undoubtedly the most pathetic and
barren waste, which formerly enlivened, but now sented to the world. He who can read it without
cypress and myrtle, of the cedar and vine, into a highly-finished piece of poetry that ever was pre-
chilled the heart of the gazer.
stoics, who wish to appear tranquil, intrepid, and emotion, may possess some of those qualities in
Thus do those feeling his heart throb within him from intense
immoveable amidst the joys and misfortunes of common with his fellow mortals, which entitle him
life; they may have subdued the rough as well as
the kindly feelings of the soul, so as neither to weep,
to the appellation of human, but I should doubt
desire, nor rejoice; but they sink down to the grave
unpitied, unlamented, unenvied, after a life spent in

cold and heartless monotony.

much, if such an one could drop a tear over the grave of a mother, a sister, or a lover; if he could kindle into indignation at a tale of wrongs; melt

wither and decay, being deprived of the natural exinto pity at one of sorrow; or if he could depart It is in the feelings and passions of men that the from the cold path of apathy at the sacred call of Clement of the affections. Philosophers who are language of poetry loves to revel, and it is by their in- friendship. Such an one may mask his heartlessJust in the mist of scepticism may deny, but others, tense descriptions of these that poets have delightedness under the pompous, but abused name of the and by far the greater part manintain, that those and electrified their readers. Who possesses a heart philosopher; but let us hope that a philosophy, emotions to which almost all men are more or less so cold as not to be fired at Hamlet's bursts of indig-which tends to convert the milk of human kindness subject, and which only become faulty when exces-uation and grief at the murder of his father? Who into corroding gall, and to blast the noblest passions

has a soul so firm as not to be shaken with his com-
parison of his own dulness on so terrific an occasion,
with the fictitious yet eloquent grief of the player,
who mourns only "for Hecuba."

"What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,
That he should weep for her? What would he do
Had he the motive, and the cue for passion
That I have? He would drown the stage with tears,
And cleave the general ear with horrid speech;
Make mad the guilty and appal the free;
Confound the ignorant; and amaze, indeed,
The very faculties of eyes and ears."

dive, are interwoven with the noblest and most ar-
dent energies of the mind. They may be too luxu-
riant, and like the trees of the orchard, may require
to be pruned: some may so far depart from their
original state as to become monstrous and unnatural,
and demand to be rooted out; but we ought to be
careful in so doing, to distinguish the weeds from
the flowers, lest we fall into the fatal error of the
uncultivated Thracian. This man, while journeying
through Greece, was struck with the smiling fer-
tility of her plains, and dazzled with the con-
Arast between them and the barren and desolate re-
gions of his native land: he purchased a delightful And who has feelings so bluuted as not to be
little estate in Peloponnesus, which produced wine roused at the sweet and touching description, in the
and oil in great abundance, and which, be resolved Andrea, of Glycerium's grief at the funeral pile of
to spend the remainder of his life, in cultivating. her sister; and of the discovery of her love to Pam-
But it was the misfortune of the ambitions barba-philus, when she falls weeping into his arms, in the
rian to know nothing of the culture of the olive and undissembling tenderness of her sorrow. The
the vine. He beheld his neighbour employed in ex- scene is so exquisitely beautiful, that I am sure the
tirpating the stunting brambles, pruning the lofty classical reader will thank me for inserting it.

and affections of the heart, will soon perish from amongst us, and, "like the baseless fabric of a vision, leave not a wreck behind."

Fine Arts.

ON COLLECTING PRINTS.

LETTER IV.

(Written for the Kaleidoscope.)

TO THE EDITOR.

Y. Z.

OF THE DUTCH AND FLEMISH SCHOOL.
"Let not the pedantry of taste despise
The humbler beauties of Batavian skies;
Tho' painting, there, no epic wreath requires,
Nor feels, nor feigns to feel poetic fires.

Yet Truth is there; and Nature, while we trace
Her coarser character and common face,
Avows her image mark'd on every part,
And by her sanction consecrates their art."

Shee.

veld, Du Jardyn, Bega, Waterloo, Ruysdale, sing along the north side, fell in with the
and numerous other excellent painters, whose train of pilgrims at the gate of St. Stephen.
works, for their correctness and truth of cha- The scene was very lively. The path
racter, are the objects of general admiration. through which we passed, down Mount
The WOOD CUTS of this school are but few; Moriah, across the valley of Jehosaphat,
they include, however, the masterly labours and up the side of Olivet, was lined with
of Van Assen, Peter Coeek, Huber Goltzius, people who came to witness the procession.
and others.
A Turkish band of music, leaving the gate
In my next letters I propose to offer a few of St. Stephen, and accompanied with ban
observations on the arrangement of the ners, proceeded with us as far as a tree on
French and English schools; and thus bring Olivet, under which the Governor of Jeru
to an end a subject which I fear has already salem, with his court, was seated. Guns
tried the patience of yourself and of your were fired at intervals.

SIR,-A very slight notice of the works of the artists who compose this celebrated school will give to the amateur an idea of its consequence and of the high rank it will hold in the art of engraving. Its progress will lead him into the contemplation of the highly finished and curious labours of Lucas van Leyden; the Families of De Pass, of Wierix, and the Sadlers; the more power-readers. ful efforts of Goltzius, and his scholars; of the Bolswerts, Pontius, De Jode, Soutman; and all those able artists who have handed down to us with so much truth of feeling and brilliancy of talent, the immortal works of Rubens; also, with the admired productions of the Vischers, and of others, whose labours shed a lustre on the art to which their talents appear to have been unceasingly devoted.

I am, Sir, truly yours,

AN AMATEUR.

The Gleaner.

"I am but a gatherer and disposer of other men's stuff." WOTTON.

THE HOLY LAND IN 1820.

The Rev. Mr. Connor has furnished us, says the Weekly Intelligencer, with the following curious particulars relative to the present state of the Holy Land at the feast of the passover of this

year.

PILGRIMS.

JERICHO.

After having crossed a number of hills ve descended into the plain of Jericho. In the midst of this plain appears a large verdant tract like an Oasts in the desert; and here, embosomed in trees, stands the wretched mud built village of the ancient Jericho; formerly celebrated for the number of pain trees growing near it, and on that account called "The City of Palms." This city was the first in Canaan which fell under the power of the Israelites, after their entrance into the Land of Promise; and its walls fell down before the Ark of the Covenant, on the first sound of the trumpets, in the year of the world 2584, and before Jes Christ 1469.

RIVER JORDAN

The names of artists given by the " Manuel" of this school (Ecole de Pays Bas) amount in number to about 350, containing the series up to the present time. The numerical arrangement I propose, begins, as to engraving, with the inestimable works of Lucas van Leyden; but as M. Huber has placed Walther van Assen (No. 1) and Peter The average number of Greek Pilgrims About half-past three the next morning, Coeck (No. 2) both engravers in wood, be- is about 2,000; this year they are only we all set out, by torch light, for the fore Lucas van Leyden, the number of his 1,600. Of these Pilgrims the majority are works will be 3, and so on in chronological native Greeks, who speak and read Romaic; Jordan. The appearance of the pilgrims, regularity. The prints of Gerard Edelinck, the next in number are the Greeks from moving in numerous detached parties with whom Huber describes as an artist "above Asia Minor, who speak and read the Turk- their flambeaux across the plain, was singu all praise," will properly terminate the first ish, but in the Romaic character; the third lar and striking. The Jordan, at the s class consists of Russians; and the fourth where the pilgrims bathed, is beautifu It should be here observed, that, in the and fifth of Wallachians and Bulgarians; picturesque; its breadth, is twenty yard "Manuel," the celebrated few however, of these pilgrims can read. and it is shaded on both sides by the thick lius Cort, is placed in this school, but his The Armenian pilgrims amount this year to foliage of closely planted trees. The water works decidedly class him with the Italians. about 1,300. The majority of them are appeared turbid, and was not deep. Oa He travelled to Italy at an early age, where, from Anatolia, and speak nothing but Turk- retiring from the water, the pilgrims enat Venice, he became the intimate friend of ish. Very few of them can read. The ployed themselves in cutting branches from the trees, to carry home with them, Titian, and an inmate of his house; and he average number of Copt pilgrims is memorials of the Jordan. They then mount afterwards founded at Rome a school of en200. This year only 150 arrived. Their ed their beasts and returned to their former

series.

engraver Corne

about

graving in which the most highly distin- appearance is very wretched. The pilgrims station in the plain.

guished pupil was Agostino Carracci.

Among the ETCHINGS of the Dutch and Flemish school will rank, the spirited but

that have visited Jerusalem this year may
be thus summed up.-Greeks, 1,600; Ar-
menians, 1,300; Copts, 150; Catholic, 50,
chiefly from Damascus: Abyssinian, 1;

rare productions of Rubens; The masterly Syrians, 30-Total, 3,131.

JERUSALEM.

DEAD SEA.

Our party set off from the Jordan, with Prince Avaloff (a Georgian) and his suite, to the Dead Sea, where we arrived in about two hours and a half. We rambled about for some time on the borders of this lake, which covers the ashes of Sodom and Gomor rah. I tasted of the water and found it excessSome of the party bathed

and most highly valued works of Rembrandt
(of which our late townsman, Mr. Daniel
Daulby, published a correct and excellent The streets of Jerusalem were all life and
catalogue) with the delicate and beautiful bustle. To avoid the confusion, we left the
productions of Paul Potter, Adrian Vande- city by the gates of Bethlahem; and pas-ive nauseous.

SOLOMON'S TEMPLE.

Jerusalem is a considerable place.-The most beautiful building within its walls is the mosque of Omen, which stands on the site of Solomon's Temple. The Turks have a singular reverence for this morque, and will not permit a Christian even to set his foot in the large grassy area which surrounds it.

VALLEY OF JEHOSAPHAT.

On the 4th of August they quitted this interesting spot, and sailed rapidly down the Nile, then at its

The sanctuary is twenty-three feet and a half long, and | dhourra, boiled in water, without salt, of which we
and at the end four colossal sitting figures, the heads of
twelve feet wide. It contains a pedestal in the centre, had none left."
which are in good preservation, not having been injured
by violence. On the right side of this great hall, en-height.
tering into the temple, are two doors, at a short dis-
tance from each other, which lead into two long sepa-
rate rooms, the first thirty-eight feet ten inches in
length, and eleven feet five inches wide; the other
forty-eight feet seven inches by thirteen feet three. At
the end of the first are several unfinished hieroglyphics,
of which some, though merely sketched, give fine
ideas of their manner of drawing. At the lateral cor-

AN IRISH FUNERAL.

[FROM TROTTER'S WALK IN IRELAND.]

"We had an opportunity on the road to day, at Slane, of observing a very old custom amongst the Irish, which surprised us as being so near the metropolis. We met a funeral, attended by a great number of country people. They were orderly, extremely clean, and well dressed. All the women wore bright red cloaks. A select party followed the corpse, and sung the Irish lament in a very impressive, and far from unpleasing manner; sometimes the tones were very low, and then rose as in excessive grief. All was slow, solemn, and dirgelike.

The walks which I most frequent are those which lead down the valley of Jehosaphatners of the entrance into the second chamber from the by the fountains of Siloah, or those that great hall is a door, each of which leads into a small chamber twenty-two feet six inches long, and ten feet run along the side of Olivet. From the wide. Each of these rooms has two doors leading into side of Olivet you have a very commanding two other chambess, forty-three feet in length, and ten view of Jerusalem. The mosque of Omar feet eleven inches wide. There are two benches in appears particularly fine from the situation. them, apparently to sit on. The most striking subjects in this temple are, 1st, a group of captive Ethiopeans, The greater part of the surrounding county is in the western corner of this great hall; 2d, the hero most desolate and dreary. Hills of white killing a man with his spear, another lying slain under parched rock, dotted here and there with his feet, on the same western wall; 3d, the storming patches of cultivated land, every where The outside of this temple is magnificent. It is a hun-young and old men in separate bands, and, finally meet with and offend the eye.

THE TEMPLE OF YBSAMBUL.

[From Belzoni's Travels,]

of a castle, in the western corner from the front door.

dred and seventeen feet wide, and eighty-six feet high; the height from the top of the cornice to the top of the door being sixty feet six inches, and the height of the door twenty-feet. There are four enormous sitting colossi, the largest in Egppt or Nubia, except the great Sphinx at the pyramids, to which they approach in the proportion of nearly two-thirds. From the shoulder | After overcoming excessive difficulties in removing to the elbow they measure fifteen feet six inches; the he accumulated sand of ages from the temple of ears three feet six inches; the face seven feet; the bambul: "on the first of August," says Mr. Bel-beard five feet six inches; across the shoulders twentysol," we entered the finest and most extensive ex-five feet four inches; their height is about fifty-one feet, wvation in Nubia, one that can stand a competition not including the caps, which are about fourteen feet. ith any in Egypt, except the tomb newly discovered There are only two of these colossi in sight, one is still

Beban el Malock.

buried under the sand, and the other, which is near

feet. Above the cornice is a row of sitting monkies,
eight feet high, and six across the shoulders. They are
twenty-one in number. This temple was nearly two-
thirds buried under the sand, of which we removed
thirty-one feet before we came to the upper part of the
door. It must have had a very fine landing-place,
which is now totally buried under the sand. It is the
last and largest temple excavated in the solid rock in
Nubia or Egypt, except the new tomb. It took twenty-
two days to open it, besides six days last year. We
sometimes had eighty men at work, and sometimes
only our own personal exertions, the party consisting
of Mr. Beechey, Captains Irby and Mangles, myself,
two servants, the crew, eleven in all, and three boys.
It is situated under a rock, about a hundred feet above
the Nile, facing the south-east by east, and about one
day and a half's journey from the second cataract in
Nubia, or Wady Halra.

"From what we could perceive at the first view, it the door, is half fallen down, and buried also. On the
a evidently a very large place; but our astonishment top of the door is a colossal figure of Osiris twenty feet
creased, when we found it to be one of the most high, with two colossal hieroglyphic figures, one on
agnificent of temples, enriched with beautiful in- each side, looking towards it. On the top of the tem-
glies, painting, colossal figures, &c. We entered at ple is a cornice with hieroglyphies, a torus, and frize
at into a large pronaos, fifty-seven feet long and fifty-under it. The cornice is six feet wide, the frize is four
To wide, supported by two rows of square pillars, in
ine from the front door to the door of the sekos.
ich pillar has a figure not unlike those at Medinet
boo, finely executed, and very little injured by time.
be tops of their turbans reach the ceiling, which is
bout thirty feet high: the pillars are five feet and a
If square. Both these and the walls are covered
th beautiful hieroglyphics, the style of which is
newhat superior, or at least bolder than that of any
ers in Egypt, not only in the workmanship, but also
the subjects. They exhibit battles, storming of cas-
⇒, triumphs over the Ethiopians, sacrifices, &c. In
me places is to be seen the same hero as at Medi-
Aboo, but in a different posture. Some of the co-
mas are much injured by the close and heated at-
phere, the temperature of which was so hot, that
thermometer must have risen to above 130 degs.
e second hall is about twenty-two feet high, thirty-
wen wide, and twenty-five and a half long. It con-
ms four pillars about four feet square; and the walls
this also are covered with fine hieroglyphics, in
etty good preservation. Beyond this is a shorter
amber, thirty-seven feet wide, in which is the en-
nce into the sanctuary. At each end of this cham-
is a door, leading into smaller chambers in the same
ection with the sanctuary, each eight feet by seven.

"The heat was so great in the interior of the temple, that it scarcely permitted us to take any drawings, as the perspiration from our hands soon rendered the paper quite wet. Accordingly, we left this operation to succeeding travellers, who may set about it with more convenience than we could, as the place will become cooler. Our stock of provisions was so reduced that the only food we had for the last six days was

"The women all followed the mourners, then the

a compact party of horsemen, well dressed and respectably mounted, closed the processon. At a distance the scarlet cloaks, and horsemen behind, with the wailing cry indistinctly heard, made a singular impression on us. When the procession was passing, we could not but admire the great decency (which, indeed, the Irish observe at all religious ceremonies), composed demeanour, and remarkable regularity, which were manifested by this concourse of affectionate and pious people.

"Where customs are entwined with nature, it is impossible and very unwise to attempt to root them out. This funeral dirge is retained in every part of Ireland. Nothing, I apprehend, is more ancient in the world; and surely for that alone it is venerable. What can be more pathetic than to behold friends, relatives, and neighbours, in simple rural garb and religious procession, accompanying the dead to the grave, as the farewell cry of grief is heard with solemn attention! Prejudice may deem a people barbarous, though they are exactly the reverse. nature is a sure guide, and when we see them following her pure dictates in their simple way, and with affecting propriety, ought they not to be respected? not ridiculed or insulted?

But

"In the very territory of Hugh de Lacy, one of the first great English nobles and adventures, we find the oldest customs of the Irish prevalent and flourishing, whilst this proud lord and all his bands are forgotten, and little traces of his dominion exist. Hence the conquerors and settlers may learn the useful lesson-that force may do much, but nature will ever assert her rights, and do more!”

Plays. In an old account-book of Bernard Lintet, the bookseller, the following information respecting the prices usually paid for the copy-rights of plays is gleaned. Tragedies were then the fashionable Dramas, and obtained the best price. Dr. Young received for his Busiris, £84; Smith, for his Phædra and Hippolitus, £50; Rowe, for his Jane Shore, £50 158.; and for Lady Jane Grey, £75 56.; and Cibber, for his Nonjuror, obtained £105.

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