Chapter I: A - P || D - R - E (6)

O come! O! teach me nature to subdue,
Renounce my love, my life, myself,--and _you_:
Fill my fond heart with God alone; for he
Alone can rival, can succeed to _thee_.

In some cases this change is strictly justifiable; as, when a person is addressed in a different style. For example, in Thomson’s Tancred and Sigismunda, when Siffredi discloses to Tancred that he is the king, he says,

Forgive me, sir! this trial of _your_ heart.

For the respectful appellation _sir_ demands the more colloquial term of address, but he immediately adds with animation,

_Thou! thou!_ art he!

And so in Tancred’s subsequent speech to Siffredi, he first says,

I think, my lord! _you_ said the king intrusted
To _you_ his will!--

but soon after adds, in a more impassioned tone,

On this alone I will not bear dispute,
Not even from _thee_, Siffredi!

The same distinction will, in general, be found in the speeches of Sigismunda to Tancred.[352]

[352] Pye.

* * * * *

HARVEST-CATCH IN NORFOLK.

_To the Editor._

Sir,--Your _Every-Day Book_ contains several interesting accounts relating to the present joyous season of the year. Amongst others, a correspondent ~G. H. J.~ (in vol. ii. col. 1168,) has furnished us with some amusing particulars of the old customs of the harvest supper. It should seem, however, that he is but imperfectly acquainted with the old “catch” of this country. That which he has given is evidently compounded of two different songs in use on these occasions, and I have no doubt when you have read and compared them you will be of my opinion. A few years more, and probably (but for your notice of them) they will be entirely forgotten.

The health-drinking catch, which is always the last thing before parting, is as follows:--

_First the mistress_:--

Now supper is over, and all things are past,
Here’s our mistress’s good health in a full flowing glass;
She is a good mistress, she provides us good cheer,
Here’s our mistress’s good health, boys--Come drink _half_ your
beer--
She is a good mistress, she provides us good cheer,
Here’s our mistress’s good health, boys--Come drink _off_ your beer.

During the time the catch is going round the whole party are standing, and, with the exception of the drinker, they join in chorus. The glass circulates, beginning with the “Lord” in regular succession through the “company:” after that it is handed to the visitors,--the harvestmen of gone-by days,--who are not, or ought not to be, forgotten on the occasion. If the drinker be taken off his guard, and should drink off his beer at the pause in the catch, he is liable to a forfeit: if one of the chorus misplaces the words _half_ and _off_, which not unfrequently happens at the heel of an evening, he incurs a similar penalty.

_After the mistress the master_:--

Here’s health to our master, the lord of the feast,
God bless his endeavours, and give him increase,
And send him good crops, that we may meet another year,
Here’s our master’s good health, boys--Come drink _half_ your beer.
God send him good crops, &c.--Come drink _off_ your beer.

Where the beer flows very freely, and there is a family, it is sometimes usual to carry on the catch, through the different branches, with variations composed for the purpose, perhaps at the spur of the moment: some of these I have known very happily conceived. The other glee to which I alluded in the beginning of my letter, and which I conceive ~G. H. J.~ to have had in view, is this:--

Here’s health unto our master, the founder of the feast,
God grant, whenever he shall die, his soul may go to rest,
And that all things may prosper whate’er he has in hand,
For we are all his servants, and are at his command;
So drink, boys, drink, and mind you do none spill,
For if you do
You shall drink two,
For ’tis our master’s will!

If the foregoing be acceptable, it will be a satisfaction to have contributed a trifle to a miscellany, which has afforded a fund of instruction and amusement to

Your constant reader and admirer,

~T. B. H.~

_Norfolk, August 20, 1827._

* * * * *

POTTED VENISON.

Sir Kenelm Digby, in a fanciful discourse on “Sympathy,” affirms, that the venison which is in July and August put into earthern pots, to last the whole year, is very difficult to be preserved during the space of those particular months which are called the fence-months; but that, when that period is passed, nothing is so easy as to keep it _gustful_ (as he words it) during the whole year after. This he endeavours to find a cause for from the “sympathy” between the potted meat, and its friends and relations, courting and capering about in its native park.

* * * * *

_For the Table Book._

THE DEFEAT OF TIME;

OR A

TALE OF THE FAIRIES.

Titania, and her moonlight Elves, were assembled under the canopy of a huge oak, that served to shelter them from the moon’s radiance, which, being now at her full noon, shot forth intolerable rays--intolerable, I mean, to the subtil texture of their little shadowy bodies--but dispensing an agreeable coolness to us grosser mortals. An air of discomfort sate upon the Queen, and upon her Courtiers. Their tiny friskings and gambols were forgot; and even Robin Goodfellow, for the first time in his little airy life, looked grave. For the Queen had had melancholy forebodings of late, founded upon an ancient Prophecy, laid up in the records of Fairy Land, that the date of Fairy existence should be _then_ extinct, when men should cease to believe in them. And she knew how that the race of the Nymphs, which were her predecessors, and had been the Guardians of the sacred floods, and of the silver fountains, and of the consecrated hills and woods, had utterly disappeared before the chilling touch of man’s incredulity; and she sighed bitterly at the approaching fate of herself and of her subjects, which was dependent upon so fickle a lease, as the capricious and ever mutable faith of man. When, as if to realise her fears, a melancholy shape came gliding in, and _that_ was--TIME, who with his intolerable scythe mows down Kings and Kingdoms; at whose dread approach the Fays huddled together, as a flock of timorous sheep, and the most courageous among them crept into acorn cups, not enduring the sight of that ancientest of Monarchs. Titania’s first impulse was to wish the presence of her false Lord, King Oberon, who was far away, in the pursuit of a strange Beauty, a Fay of Indian Land--that with his good lance and sword, like a faithful knight and husband, he might defend her against TIME. But she soon checked that thought as vain, for what could the prowess of the mighty Oberon himself, albeit the stoutest Champion in Fairy Land, have availed against so huge a Giant, whose bald top touched the skies. So in the mildest tone she besought the Spectre, that in his mercy he would overlook, and pass by, her small subjects, as too diminutive and powerless to add any worthy trophy to his renown. And she besought him to employ his resistless strength against the ambitious Children of Men, and to lay waste their aspiring works, to tumble down their towers and turrets, and the Babels of their pride, fit objects of his devouring Scythe, but to spare her and her harmless race, who had no existence beyond a dream; frail objects of a creed; that lived but in the faith of the believer. And with her little arms, as well as she could, she grasped the stern knees of TIME, and waxing speechless with fear, she beckoned to her chief attendants, and Maids of Honour, to come forth from their hiding places, and to plead the Plea of the Fairies. And one of those small delicate creatures came forth at her bidding, clad all in white like a Chorister, and in a low melodious tone, not louder than the hum of a pretty bee--when it seems to be demurring whether it shall settle upon this sweet flower or that, before it settles--set forth her humble Petition. “We Fairies,” she said, “are the most inoffensive race that live, and least deserving to perish. It is we that have the care of all sweet melodies, that no discords may offend the Sun, who is the great Soul of Music. We rouse the lark at morn; and the pretty Echos, which respond to all the twittering quire, are of our making. Wherefore, great King of Years, as ever you have loved the music which is raining from a morning cloud, sent from the messenger of day, the Lark, as he mounts to Heaven’s gate, beyond the ken of mortals; or if ever you have listened with a charmed ear to the Night Bird, that

in the flowery spring,
Amidst the leaves set makes the thickets ring
Of her sour sorrows, sweeten’d with her song:

spare our tender tribes; and we will muffle up the sheep-bell for thee, that thy pleasure take no interruption, whenever thou shall listen unto Philomel.”

And TIME answered, that “he had heard that song too long; and he was even wearied with that ancient strain, that recorded the wrongs of Tereus. But if she would know in what music TIME delighted, it was, when sleep and darkness lay upon crowded cities, to hark to the midnight chime, which is tolling from a hundred clocks, like the last knell over the soul of a dead world; or to the crush of the fall of some age-worn edifice, which is as the voice of himself when he disparteth kingdoms.”

A second female Fay took up the Plea, and said, “We be the handmaids of the Spring, and tend upon the birth of all sweet buds; and the pastoral cowslips are our friends, and the pansies; and the violets, like nuns; and the quaking hare-bell is in our wardship; and the Hyacinth, once a fair youth, and dear to Phœbus.”

Then TIME made answer, in his wrath striking the harmless ground with his hurtful scythe, that “they must not think that he was one that cared for flowers, except to see them wither, and to take her beauty from the rose.”

And a third Fairy took up the Plea, and said, “We are kindly Things; and it is we that sit at evening, and shake rich odours from sweet bowers upon discoursing lovers, that seem to each other to be their own sighs; and we keep off the bat, and the owl, from their privacy, and the ill-boding whistler; and we flit in sweet dreams across the brains of infancy, and conjure up a smile upon its soft lips to beguile the careful mother, while its little soul is fled for a brief minute or two to sport with our youngest Fairies.”

Then SATURN (which is TIME) made answer, that “they should not think that he delighted in tender Babes, that had devoured his own, till foolish Rhea cheated him with a Stone, which he swallowed, thinking it to be the infant Jupiter.” And thereat in token he disclosed to view his enormous tooth, in which appeared monstrous dints, left by that unnatural meal; and his great throat, that seemed capable of devouring up the earth and all its inhabitants at one meal. “And for Lovers,” he continued, “my delight is, with a hurrying hand to snatch them away from their love-meetings by stealth at nights, and to ravish away hours from them like minutes whilst they are together, and in absence to stand like a motionless statue, or their leaden Planet of mishap (whence I had my name), till I make their minutes seem ages.”

Next stood up a male fairy, clad all in green, like a forester, or one of Robin Hood’s mates, and doffing his tiny cap, said, “We are small foresters, that live in woods, training the young boughs in graceful intricacies, with blue snatches of the sky between; we frame all shady roofs and arches rude; and sometimes, when we are plying our tender hatches, men say, that the tapping woodpecker is nigh: and it is we that scoop the hollow cell of the squirrel; and carve quaint letters upon the rinds of trees, which in sylvan solitudes sweetly recall to the mind of the heat-oppressed swain, ere he lies down to slumber, the name of his Fair One, Dainty Aminta, Gentle Rosalind, or Chastest Laura, as it may happen.”

SATURN, nothing moved with this courteous address, bade him be gone, or “if he would be a woodman, to go forth, and fell oak for the Fairies’ coffins, which would forthwith be wanting. For himself, he took no delight in haunting the woods, till their golden plumage (the yellow leaves) were beginning to fall, and leave the brown black limbs bare, like Nature in her skeleton dress.”

Then stood up one of those gentle Fairies, that are good to Man, and blushed red as any rose, while he told a modest story of one of his own good deeds. “It chanced upon a time,” he said, “that while we were looking cowslips in the meads, while yet the dew was hanging on the buds, like beads, we found a babe left in its swathing clothes--a little sorrowful deserted Thing; begot of Love, but begetting no love in others; guiltless of shame, but doomed to shame for its parents’ offence in bringing it by indirect courses into the world. It was pity to see the abandoned little orphan, left to the world’s care by an unnatural mother, how the cold dew kept wetting its childish coats; and its little hair, how it was bedabbled, that was like gossamer. Its pouting mouth, unknowing how to speak, lay half opened like a rose-lipt shell, and its cheek was softer than any peach, upon which the tears, for very roundness, could not long dwell, but fell off, in clearness like pearls, some on the grass, and some on his little hand, and some haply wandered to the little dimpled well under his mouth, which Love himself seemed to have planned out, but less for tears than for smilings. Pity it was, too, to see how the burning sun scorched its helpless limbs, for it lay without shade, or shelter, or mother’s breast, for foul weather or fair. So having compassion on its sad plight, my fellows and I turned ourselves into grasshoppers, and swarmed about the babe, making such shrill cries, as that pretty little chirping creature makes in its mirth, till with our noise we attracted the attention of a passing rustic, a tenderhearted hind, who wondering at our small but loud concert, strayed aside curiously, and found the babe, where it lay on the remote grass, and taking it up, lapt it in his russet coat, and bore it to his cottage, where his wife kindly nurtured it, till it grew up a goodly personage. How this Babe prospered afterwards, let proud London tell. This was that famous Sir Thomas Gresham, who was the chiefest of her Merchants, the richest, the wisest. Witness his many goodly vessels on the Thames, freighted with costly merchandise, jewels from Ind, and pearls for courtly dames, and silks of Samarcand. And witness more than all, that stately Bourse (or Exchange) which he caused to be built, a mart for merchants from East and West, whose graceful summit still bears, in token of the Fairies’ favours, his chosen crest, the Grasshopper. And, like the Grasshopper, may it please you, great King, to suffer us also to live, partakers of the green earth!”

The Fairy had scarce ended his Plea, when a shrill cry, not unlike the Grasshopper’s, was heard. Poor Puck--or Robin Goodfellow, as he is sometimes called--had recovered a little from his first fright, and in one of his mad freaks had perched upon the beard of old TIME, which was flowing, ample, and majestic, and was amusing himself with plucking at a hair, which was indeed so massy, that it seemed to him that he was removing some huge beam of timber rather than a hair; which TIME by some ill chance perceiving, snatched up the Impish Mischief with his great hand, and asked “What it was?”

“Alas!” quoth Puck, “A little random Elf am I, born in one of Nature’s sports, a very weed, created for the simple sweet enjoyment of myself, but for no other purpose, worth, or need, that ever I could learn. ’Tis I, that bob the Angler’s idle cork, till the patient man is ready to breathe a curse. I steal the morsel from the Gossip’s fork, or stop the sneezing Chanter in mid Psalm; and when an infant has been born with hard or homely features, mothers say, that I changed the child at nurse; but to fulfil any graver purpose I have not wit enough, and hardly the will. I am a pinch of lively dust to frisk upon the wind, a tear would make a puddle of me, and so I tickle myself with the lightest straw, and shun all griefs that might make me stagnant. This is my small philosophy.”

Then TIME, dropping him on the ground, as a thing too inconsiderable for his vengeance, grasped fast his mighty Scythe; and now not Puck alone, but the whole State of Fairies had gone to inevitable wreck and destruction, had not a timely Apparition interposed, at whose boldness TIME was astounded, for he came not with the habit, or the forces, of a Deity, who alone might cope with TIME, but as a simple Mortal, clad as you might see a Forester, that hunts after wild coneys by the cold moonshine; or a Stalker of stray deer, stealthy and bold. But by the golden lustre in his eye, and the passionate wanness in his cheek, and by the fair and ample space of his forehood, which seemed a palace framed for the habitation of all glorious thoughts, he knew that this was his great Rival, who had power given him to rescue whatsoever victims TIME should clutch, and to cause them to live for ever in his immortal verse. And muttering the name of SHAKSPEARE, TIME spread his Roc-like wings, and fled the controuling presence. And the liberated Court of the Fairies, with Titania at their head, flocked around the gentle Ghost, giving him thanks, nodding to him, and doing him curtesies, who had crowned them henceforth with a permanent existence, to live in the minds of men, while verse shall have power to charm, or Midsummer moons shall brighten.

* * * * *

What particular endearments passed between the Fairies and their Poet, passes my pencil to delineate; but if you are curious to be informed, I must refer you, gentle reader, to the “Plea of the Fairies,” a most agreeable Poem, lately put forth by my friend, Thomas Hood: of the first half of which the above is nothing but a meagre, and a harsh, prose-abstract. Farewell.

ELIA.

_The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo._

* * * * *

PARODIES ON HORACE.

Mr. James Petit Andrews, the continuator of Dr. Henry’s History of England, mentions a whimsical instance of literary caprice--a parody of Horace, by a German, David Hoppius, who had interest enough to have his book printed at Brunswick, in 1568, under the particular protection of the elector of Saxony. Hoppius, with infinite labour, transformed the odes and epodes of Horace into pious hymns, preserving the original measure, and, as far as possible, the words of the Roman poet. “The classical reader,” Mr. Andrews says, “will, at one glance, comprehend the amazing difficulties which such a parodist must undergo, and will be surprised to find these productions not wanting in pure Latinity.” A specimen or two are annexed.

_Ad Pyrrham._ Ode v. lib. 1.

Quis multâ gracilis te puer in rosâ
Perfusus liquidis urget odoribus
Grato, Pyrrha, sub antro?
Cui flavam religas comam
Simplex munditiis? &c.

_Ad Mariam Deiparam._ Parodia v. lib. 1.

Quis fœno recubans, in grac li tenet
Innexus teneris te, pia, fasciis
Blandus, Virgo, puellus?
Cui primos adhibes cibos.
Dives munditiis? &c.

_In Juliam Barinen._ Ode viii. lib 2.

Ulla si juris tibi pejerati
Pœna, Barine, nocuisset unquam,
Dente si nigro fieres, vel uno
Turpior unqui.
Crederem--Sed tu simul obligasti
Perfidum votis caput, enitescis
Pulchrior multo, juvenumque prodis
Publica cura, &c.

Προσφωγησις _Christi ad Peccatorem_. Parodia ix. lib. 2.

Ulla si juris tibi pejerati
Culpa, peccator, doluisset unquam
Mente, si tantum fieres vel unâ
Tristior hora
Plauderem--Sed tu, simul obligasti
Perfidum votis caput, ingemiscis
Ob scelus nunquam, scelerumque prodis
Publicus autor, &c.

_In Bacchum._ Ode xxiii. lib. 3.

Quo me, Bacche, rapis tui
Plenum, Quæ in nemora, aut quod agor in specus,
Velox mente novâ; quibus
Antris, egregie Cæsaris audiar
Æternum meditans decus
Stellis inserere et consilio Jovis, &c.

_Ad Christum._ Parodia xxiii. lib. 3.

Quo me, Christe, feram mali
Plenum, Quæ in nemora, aut quos fugiam in specus,
Pressus mole gravi? Quibus
Antris ob maculam criminis occultar
Æternam meditans facem
Infernum effugere, et simplicium Stygis? &c.

* * * * *

A GENTLEMAN’S FASHION.

In the reign of Henry VII. sir Philip Calthrope, a Norfolk knight, sent as much cloth, of fine French tauney, as would make him a gown, to a tailor in Norwich. It happened one John Drakes, a shoemaker, coming into the shop, liked it so well, that he went and bought of the same as much for himself, enjoining the tailor to make it of the same fashion. The knight was informed of this, and therefore commanded the tailor to cut his gown as full of holes as his sheers could make. John Drakes’s was made “of the same fashion,” but he vowed he never would be of the _gentleman’s_ fashion again.

* * * * *

~Discoveries~

OF THE

ANCIENTS AND MODERNS.

No. VII.

In the present stage of the inquiry will be adduced examples of the knowledge of the ancients, respecting the essential principles that “uphold the world.”

GRAVITY, ATTRACTION--THE LAW OF SQUARING THE DISTANCES--CENTRIPETAL
AND CENTRIFUGAL FORCE.

The moderns, who imagine that they were the first to discover universal gravitation, have only trod in the paths of the ancients. It is true, that they have demonstrated the laws of gravitation, but this is all.

Besides universal gravitation, the ancients knew that the circular motion described by the planets in their courses, is the result of two moving forces combined--a rectilinear and a perpendicular; which, united together, form a curve. They knew also why these two contrary forces retain the planets in their orbs; and explained themselves, as the moderns do, excepting only the terms of “centripetal” and “centrifugal;” instead of which, however, they used what was altogether equivalent.

They also knew the inequality of the course of the planets, ascribing it to the variety of their weights reciprocally considered, and of their proportional distances; or, which is the same thing, in more modern terms, they knew the “law of the inverse ratio of the square of the distance from the centre of the revolution.”

Some have thought, that in Empedocles’s system the foundation of Newton’s was to be found; imagining, that under the name of “love,” he intended to intimate a law, or power, which separated the parts of matter, in order to join itself to them, and to which nothing was wanting but the name of _attraction_; and that by the term “discord,” he intended to describe another force, which obliged the same parts to recede from one another, and which Newton calls a repelling _force_.

The Pythagoreans and Platonics perceived the necessity of admitting the force of two powers, viz. projection and gravity, in order to account for the revolution of the planets. Timæus, speaking of the soul of the world, which animates all nature, says, that “God hath endowed it with two powers, which, in combination, act according to certain numeric proportions.”

Plato clearly asserts, that God had impressed upon the planets “a motion which was the most proper for them.” This could be nothing else than that perpendicular motion, which has a tendency to the centre of the universe, that is, gravity; and what coincides with it, a lateral impulse, rendering the whole circular.

Diogenes Laertius says, that at the beginning, the bodies of the universe were agitated tumultuously, and with a disorderly movement; but that God afterwards regulated their course, by laws natural and proportional.

Anaxagoras being asked what it was that retained the heavenly bodies in their orbit, notwithstanding their gravity, remarkably answered, that “the rapidity of their course preserved them in their stations; and that should the celerity of their motions abate, the equilibrium of the world being broken, the whole machine would fall to ruin.”

Plutarch, who knew almost all the shining truths of astronomy, in explaining what it was that made bodies tend towards the earth, attributes it to “a reciprocal attraction, whereby all terrestrial bodies have this tendency, and which collects into one the parts constituting the sun and moon, and retains them in their spheres.” He afterwards applies these particular phenomena to others more general; and, from what happens in our globe, deduces, according to the same principle, whatever must thence happen respectively in each celestial body; and then considers them in their relative connections one towards another. He illustrates this general relationship and connection, by instancing what happens to our moon in its revolution round the earth, comparing it to “a stone in a sling, which is impressed by two powers at once;” that of projection, which would carry it away, were it not retained by the embrace of the sling; which, like the central force, keeps it from wandering, whilst the combination of the two moves it in a circle. In another place, he speaks “of an inherent power in bodies, that is, in the earth, and other planets, of attracting to themselves whatever is within their reach.” In these two passages, there is a plain reference to the centripetal force, which binds the planets to their proper, or common centres; and to the centrifugal, which makes them roll in circles at a distance.

The ancients, then, attribute to the celestial bodies a tendency towards one common centre, and a reciprocal attractive power. It appears also, that they knew, as well as the moderns, that the cause of gravitation, that attracted all things, did not reside solely in the centre of the earth. Their ideas were even more philosophic; for they taught, that “this power was diffused through every particle of the terrestrial globe, and compounded of the various energy residing in each.”

It remains to inquire, whether they knew the law by which gravity acts upon the celestial bodies, that it was in an inverse proportion of their quantity of matter, and the square of their distance. Certainly they were not ignorant, that the planets in their courses observed a constant and invariable proportion; though some sought for it in the difference of the quantity of matter contained in the masses, of which the planets were composed; and others, in the difference of their distances. Lucretius, after Democritus and Aristotle, thought that “the gravity of bodies was in proportion to the quantity of matter of which they were composed.” It is true, that the penetration and sagacity of a Newton, a Gregory, and a Maclaurin, were requisite to perceive and discover, in the few fragments of the ancients now remaining, the inverse law respecting the squares of the distances, a doctrine which Pythagoras had taught; but they acknowledge that it was contained in those writings; and they avail themselves of the authority of Pythagoras, to give weight to their system.

Plutarch, of all the philosophers who have spoken of Pythagoras, had a better opportunity of entering into the ideas of that great man, and has explained them better than any one besides. Pliny, Macrobius, and Censorinus, have also spoken of the harmony which Pythagoras observed to reign in the course of the planets; but Plutarch makes him say, that it is probable that the bodies of the planets, their distances, the intervals between their spheres, the celerity of their courses and revolutions, are not only proportionable among themselves, but to the whole of the universe. Dr. Gregory declares it to be evident, that Pythagoras understood, that the gravitation of the planets towards the sun was in a reciprocal ratio of their distance from that luminary; and that illustrious modern, followed herein by Maclaurin, makes that ancient philosopher speak thus:--

“A musical string, says Pythagoras, yields the very same tone with any other of twice its length, because the tension of the latter, or the force whereby it is extended, is quadruple to that of the former; _and the gravity of one planet is quadruple to that of any other, which is at double the distance_. In general, to bring a musical string into unison with one of the same kind, shorter than itself, its tension ought to be increased in proportion as the square of its length exceeds that of the other; and _that the gravity of any planet may become equal to that of any other nearer the sun, it ought to be increased in proportion as the square of its distance exceeds that of the other_. If, therefore, we should suppose musical strings _stretched from the sun to each of the planets, it would be necessary_, in order to bring them all to unison, _to augment or diminish their tensions, in the very same proportion as would be requisite to render the planets themselves equal in gravity_. This, in all likelihood, gave foundation for the reports, that Pythagoras drew his doctrine of harmony from the spheres.”[353]

Galileo duly honours Plato, by acknowledging that he is indebted to him for his first idea of the method of determining, how the different degrees of velocity ought to produce that uniformity of motion discernible in the revolutions of the heavenly bodies. His account is, that “Plato being of opinion that no movable thing could pass from a state of rest to any determinate degree of velocity, so as perpetually and equably to remain in it, without first passing through all the inferior degrees of celerity or retardation; he thence concludes, that God, after having created the celestial bodies, determining to assign to each a particular degree of celerity, in which they should always move, impressed upon them, when he drew them from a state of rest, such a force as made them run through their assigned spaces, in that natural and direct way wherein we see the bodies around us pass from rest into motion, by a continual and successive acceleration. And he adds, that having brought them to that degree of motion, wherein he intended they should perpetually remain, he afterwards changed the perpendicular into a circulary direction, that being the only course that can preserve itself uniform, and make a body without ceasing keep at an equal distance from its proper centre.”

This acknowledgment of Galileo is remarkable. It is a homage to antiquity from an inventive genius, who least of any, owes his eminence to the aid of the ancients. It is the disposition of noble minds to arrogate to themselves as little as possible any merit, but what they have the utmost claim to; and thus Galileo and Newton, the greatest of modern philosophers, set an example, which will never be imitated but by men of distinguished greatness.

[353] Gregorii Astronomiæ Elementa; and Maclaurin’s Systems of the
Philosophers, in a discourse prefixed to his philosophy of Newton, p.
32. Wallis, vol. iii. p. 138 and 150.

* * * * *

AVON MILL, WILTS.

THE GLEANING OR LEASING CAKE.

_To the Editor._

Sir,--It may not be deemed an intrusion to inform your readers, that when Avon Mill was devoted to the grinding of corn it was very centrally situated for the convenience of the poor gleaners. This mill, then kept by a family of the name of Tanner, (the sons were renowned swimmers,) had also much business with the neighbouring farmers and maltsters. At the time, dame Tanner, one of the best-hearted women then living, had a custom of her own, (perhaps to discharge the dictates of a good conscience for the double toll taken by the millers.) She made after the harvest-season a cake, somewhat after the manner of the Jews’ passover cakes, given to their Gentile friends, which she called the “Gleaning cake,” and gave it to every poor person that brought gleaned corn to be ground at the mill. A few years after her death the mill was purchased (I think a chancery suit was pending) for a clothing manufactory, (one pair of stones only being kept,) which it still remains. When the shearing machines were here first introduced to cut and dress cloth by water, detachments of troops were nightly stationed in the lanes and mill to prevent large bodies of the shearmen, then out of employ, from setting fire to the premises. At subsequent periods much business has been done here in the manufacture of superfine broadcloth, but owing to the fluctuation of trade Avon Mill has not generally done half the work of its water power.

A neighbouring mill, once also a great corn mill, at Christian Malford, but which is now a spacious edifice, has shared nearly the same fate and devotedness. The water-wheels being partly undershot on this beautiful river, the water in autumn is often insufficient to the demand; but when after heavy rains the floods are out, the meadows present a sheet of blue expanse truly picturesque, and the bridges, by the depth and rapidity of the current near the mills, are nearly impassable. Many peasants returning home, and farmers riding from market, have by their adventure missed their way and been drowned.

A “pretty considerable number” of ghost stories are floating in the memories of the aged cottagers, of persons appearing after death on the Avon and its banks in this part of the country.

I am, sir,

Yours respectfully,

AN OLD CORRESPONDENT.

_T----n, T----e,_

_August 21, 1827._

* * * * *

SONG.

I long to forget thee! but every sweet scene
Reminds me too strongly of days that have been;
Where can I look round me, but something recalls
Our friendship, our love,--and my spirit enthralls?
Each nook of the mountain--each cot of the gill--
The rush of the river--the flow of the rill--
The trees of the forest--the gems of the lea--
All whisper of childhood, of virtue, and thee.

When in spring-time the violets and primroses bloom,
When in summer the wild thyme is wafting perfume;
When autumn is mellowly tinging the trees,
And in winter’s cold blast when the mountain streams freeze;
When bright glows the sun-ray--when soft moon-light shines
On the aged church tower, and dark waving pines--
Each season shall tell of some ever-fled bliss,
Of the press of thine hand, or the balm of thy kiss.

Thou wert long the sole theme of my earliest lays,
And my wild harp’s first breathings were all in thy praise;
When in fancy that wild harp I hung on the yew,
I thought not the fancy would e’er prove untrue.
I deem’d not the form that beside me reclin’d
In the haunt of the green-wood would e’er prove unkind--
Unkind to a heart that but liv’d for thy love,
And has pray’d for thy weal to the spirit above.

’Tis evening! the hues of the sun-set are fled--
A deep sombre mist o’er the valley is spread--
The tall cliffs are wrapp’d in the shades of the night,
And Dernebrook no longer is lapsing in light:
The burst of the morning the gloom shall dispel,
And a halo of glory gild valley and fell--
Yet a shade o’er my destiny ever will be,
And, Emma! that shade is--remembrance of thee!

T. Q. M.

* * * * *

TRASHING.

A BRIDAL CUSTOM IN YORKSHIRE.

_To the Editor._

_Morley, near Leeds, July 21, 1827._

Sir,--There is a custom prevalent in various parts of Yorkshire, which I do not remember to have seen noticed in the works of Strutt, Brand, Fosbroke, or any other learned writer upon such subjects. It is called “trashing,” which signifies pelting people with old shoes on their return from church on the wedding-day. There were certain offences which subjected the parties formerly to this disagreeable liability; such as refusing to contribute to scholars’ “potations,” or other convivialities; but in process of time the reason of the thing became forgotten, and “trashing” was indiscriminately practised among the lower orders. Turf-sods or mud being substituted for lack of old shoes, and generally thrown in jest and good-humour rather than in anger or ill-will.

Although it is true that an old shoe is to this day called “a trash,” yet it did not, certainly, give the name to the nuisance. To “trash” originally signified, to _clog_, incumber, or impede the progress of any one; (see Todd’s Johnson;) and agreeably to this explanation we find the rope tied by sportsmen round the necks of fleet pointers to tire them well, and check their speed, is hereabouts universally called the “trashcord,” or dog trash. But why old shoes in particular were selected as the missiles most proper for impeding the progress of new married persons, it is now perhaps impossible to discover.

Yours respectfully,

N. S.

* * * * *

BILBOCQUET.

In 1595, Henry III. of France diverted himself, when passing through the streets of Paris, by playing with a “bilbocquet,” a cup and ball. The dukes d’Epernon and de Joyeuse accompanied him in his childish frolic, which, by this example, became so general, that gentlemen, pages, lackeys, and all sorts of people, great and small, made the management of the “bilbocquet” a serious and perpetual study. The same king traversed his capital with a basket hanging by a girdle from his neck, out of which peeped the heads of half a dozen puppies.

* * * * *

REMARKABLE CHARACTERS.

I.--ERASMUS.

Erasmus, while a schoolboy, composed a panegyric on king Philip, (father of Charles V.,) on his coming out of Spain into Germany. His majesty took such notice of his early wit, that he honoured him with a yearly pension during his life.

King Henry VIII. of England wrote to him with his own hand, ordered him several very valuable presents, offered him a house and land, with six hundred florins a year, if he would reside in England.

Francis I., king of France, also wrote to him, offering him a bishopric, and one thousand florins a year, if he would live in France.

The emperor Charles V. offered him a bishopric in Sicily, made him one of his privy council, allowed him a pension of four hundred florins a year, and promised to make it five hundred, if he would occasionally reside in his court.

Sigismond, king of Poland, and Ferdinand, king of Hungary, were very bountiful to him, and repeatedly invited him to dwell in their dominions.

Ann, princess of Verona, allowed him a pension of one hundred florins a year.

Frederick, duke of Saxony, and William, duke of Gulick, made him several presents.

Pope Adrian VI. wrote to him three times with his own hand; and pope Clement VII., on being raised to the purple, sent him five hundred florins, and invited him to Rome.

Pope Paul III. intended to have raised him to the rank of cardinal, if death had not prevented him.

William Warham, archbishop of Canterbury, gave him an exhibition.

Cardinal Wolsey allowed him a pension out of a prebend at York.

The bishops of Lincoln and Rochester liberally supplied him with money, &c. on all occasions.

Polidore Virgil sent him money to buy a horse, and the lord Cromwell sent him thirty angels.

Lord Mountjoy, sir Thomas More, bishop Tonstall, and dean Collet, were his constant benefactors.

Cardinal Mattheo offered him a pension of five hundred a year to live in Rome, and sent him a cup of pure gold.

Albertus, archbishop, cardinal, and elector of Mentz, sent him also a cup of gold, richly ornamented with precious stones.

Cardinal Campegius, among other presents, sent him a ring of great value.

Stanislaus Olmucensis sent him a silver bowl, double gilt, with four pieces of gold, ancient coin.

The bishop of Basil offered him half the revenue of his bishopric.

Thurxo, bishop of Uratislavo, went six days’ journey out of his way to see him.

William, earl of Eyrenberg, gave him a dagger, which by the inscription “he wished in the hearts of all his enemies.”

* * * * *

II.--NICHOLAS WOOD, THE GLUTTON.

One Nicholas Wood, of Harrison, in the county of Kent, yeoman, did eat with ease a whole sheep of sixteen shillings price, and that raw, at one meal. Another time he eat thirty dozen of pigeons. At sir William Sedley’s he eat as much as would have sufficed thirty men. At lord Wotton’s in Kent, he devoured in one meal eighty-four rabbits; another time eighteen yards of black pudding, London measure. He once eat sixty pounds of cherries, and said they were but wastemeat. He eat a whole hog, and afterwards swallowed three peck of damsons: this was after breakfast, at which he had taken a pottle of milk and pottage, with bread, butter, and cheese.

“He eat in my presence,” saith Taylor, the water-poet, “six penny wheaten loaves, three sixpenny veal-pies, one pound of fresh butter, one good dish of thornback, and a sliver of a peck household loaf, an inch thick, all within the space of an hour; the house yielding no more he retired unsatisfied.”

One John Dale, at Lenham, laid him a wager, he could fill his belly for him with good wholesome victuals for two shillings. He took this wager and said, when he had finished the two shillings worth, he would eat up a sirloin of beef. Dale, however, brought six pots of mighty ale and twelve new penny white loaves, which he sopped therein, the powerful fume whereof conquered this gluttonous conqueror, and laid him asleep before he had finished his meal, whereby the roast beef was preserved and the wager lost.

Wood spent all his estate in provender for his enormous stomach, and, although a landed man and a true labourer, he died very poor in 1630.

SAM SAM’S SON.

* * * * *

JUST JUDGMENT.

A GOOD JUDGE, AND A GOOD JURY.

It is of most essential importance to the due administration of justice that juries should be sensible of their own dignity; and, when occasion requires, that they should not implicitly and servilely bow to the opinion of any judge, however high he may be held in estimation. An instance of the beneficial result of a jury asserting, in a respectful manner, the privilege of having an opinion of their own, occurred, not at the assizes now holding, but not very long ago. Two men were indicted for a burglary: after the counsel for the prosecution had opened, the amiable and learned judge who presided, addressing the jury, said, “Gentlemen, there does not appear to me any probability that a case of burglary can be made out against the prisoners, it is therefore needless to occupy your time any further.” The jury having, however, conferred for a short time, the foreman replied, “With perfect deference to your lordship’s opinion we should rather prefer hearing the evidence.” To this his lordship readily assented: the case went on, and the guilt of the prisoners was proved beyond the possibility of a doubt. After the verdict was returned, the learned judge said, “Well, gentlemen of the jury, I will not say that you are better _lawyers_ than I am, but I am quite sure that in the present instance you have proved yourself to be better _judges_.”[354]

[354] Times, August 27, 1827.

* * * * *

OLD ENGLISH ALE.

About 1620 some doctors and surgeons, during their attendance on an English gentleman, who was diseased at Paris, discoursed on wines and other beverages; and one physician, who had been in England, said, “The English had a drink which they call ale, and which he thought the wholesomest liquor that could be drank; for whereas the body of man is supported by natural heat and radical moisture, there is no drink conduceth more to the preservation of the one, and the increase of the other, than ale: for, while the Englishmen drank only ale, they were strong, brawny, able men, and could draw an arrow an ell long; but when they fell to wine and beer, they are found to be much impaired in their strength and age:” and so the ale bore away the bell among the doctors.[355]

[355] Howell.

* * * * *

A SOLDIER’S AGE.

Napoleon, in his Italian successes, took a Hungarian battalion prisoners. The colonel, an old man, complained bitterly of the French mode of fighting--by rapid and desultory attacks, on the flank, the rear, the lines of communication, &c., concluding by saying, “that he fought in the army of Maria Theresa.”

“You must be _old_?” said Napoleon.

“Yes, I am either sixty or seventy.”

“Why, colonel, you have certainly lived long enough to know how to count years a little more closely?”

“General,” said the Hungarian, “I reckon my money, my shirts, and my horses; but as for my years, I know that nobody will want to steal them, and that I shall never lose one of them!”

* * * * *

COUNSELS AND CAUTIONS

BY DR. A. HUNTER.

BEWARE!

Leave your purse and watch at home when you go to the playhouse or an auction room.

TRAVELLING.

When you take a journey in winter put on two shirts; you will find them much warmer than an additional waistcoat.

BUILDING REPAIRS.

If you mean to buy a house that you intend to alter and improve, be sure to double the tradesman’s estimate.

YOUR STAIRCASE.

Paint the steps a stone colour; it will save scouring and soap.

HOUSEKEEPING.

If you are in trade keep no more houses than you can support; a summer-house and a winter-house have forced many a man into a poor-house.

ENOUGH SHOULD SUFFICE.

A man who has obtained a competency, and ventures upon a speculation that may be capable of consuming all that he has already got, stakes ease and comfort against beggary and disgrace.

LOQUACITY.

A gossip has no home.

Vol. II.--39.

“DRAWN FROM NATURE.”]

_To the Editor._

Corporations in old times kept fools, and there are still traces of the custom. The antiquary admires the carving of a fool, “a motley fool,” at the porchway of the King John tavern at Exeter, and contemplates it as probably the faithful representation of an obsolete servant of that ancient city; while the traveller endeavours to obtain a sight of the “noted Captain Cooke, all alive! alive!”--the most public, and not the least important officer of its lively corporation.

A tract, published without a title-page, yet symbolically, as it were, bearing a sort of half-head, whereby it is denominated “A Pamphlet called Old England for Ever!” is the production of captain Cooke himself; and a lithographed print represents that “noted” personage “drawn from _nature_,” in his full costume, as “Captain of the Sheriffs troop at 74 assizes for the county of Devon.” An engraving from the print is at the head of this article; the original is “published by George Rowe, 38, Paris-street, Exeter,” price only a shilling. The present representation is merely to give the reader some notion of the person of the captain, previously to introducing so much of his “particular confession, life, character, and behaviour,” as can be extracted from his aforesaid printed narrative.

The tract referred to, though denominated “Old England for Ever,” seems intended to memorialize “_Captain Cooke_--for ever.” Aspiring to eclipse the celebrated autobiography of “P. P. Clerk of this Parish,” the captain calls his literary production “a pamphlet of patriotic home achievements during the late direful war from 1793 to 1815;” and, accordingly, it is a series, to adopt his own words, of “twenty-two years multifarious but abridged memoirs, novelties, anecdotes, genealogy, and bulletins, by the author’s natural instinct.”

The first most important information resulting from the captain’s “natural instinct,” is this:--that “the duke of Wellington, marshal Blucher, the allied officers, and armies, defeated the atheist, the enemy of the Sabbath and of peace to the world, on Sunday, 18th of June 1815, at half after eight o’clock in the evening:” which day the captain, therefore, calls “an indelible day;” and says, “I built a cottage that year, and have a tablet over my door--_Waterloo Cottage, in memory of Europe’s victory, Sunday, 18th June, 1815_; and I went to Wellington-hill to see the foundation-stone laid for a Wellington column, in honour of the duke. So much for Buonaparte’s fanfaronade!--At daybreak of the 15th of July, he (Buonaparte) surrendered himself to the English captain Maitland, of the Bellerophon--an appropo name to the refugee.--I was called up the next morning at one o’clock; I wrote twenty letters to country gentlemen of the O!-be-joyful news, by the same morning’ post. I have been often called up on express news.”

From hence may be deduced the value of the captain and his opinions in the city of Exeter; and, no doubt, due importance will be attached to his proposition, that “parliament should always meet of a Friday or Saturday, and prorogue of a Monday, to prevent sabbath-breaking as _little_ as possible;” and that “the mails should be prohibited from blowing their horns in the dead of the night or morning, in towns or villages.” It was contemplated to carry these measures into effect by joint stock companies, wherein all the captain’s friends were shareholders, when the “panic” came down from London by an opposition coach, and destroyed public confidence in the captain’s plans. They are noticed here in the order wherein he states them himself; and, pursuing the like order, it is proper to state, in the first place, something of the house wherein this self-eminent person was born; then, something respecting “Ashburton Pop;” and, lastly, something respecting his apprenticeship, and his services as a loyal man and a saddler to “the city of Exeter, and the corporation and trade thereof.”

“I was born,” says the captain, “at the Rose and Crown public-house on the old bridge, in the borough town of Ashburton, 1765; where a good woollen-manufactory has been carried on; and it has produced a great character, or so, for learning:” and “has been as famous for a beverage, called _Ashburton Pop_, as London is for porter. I recollect its sharp feeding good taste, far richer than the best small beer, more of the champaign taste, and what was termed a good sharp bottle. When you untied and hand-drew the cork, it gave a report louder than a pop-gun, to which I attribute its name; its contents would fly up to the ceiling; if you did not mind to keep the mouth of the stone bottle into the white quart cup, it filled it with froth, but not over a pint of clear liquor. Three old cronies would sit an afternoon six hours, smoke and drink a dozen bottles, their reckoning but eight-pence each, and a penny for tobacco. The pop was but twopence a bottle. It is a great novel loss to the town; because its recipe died with its brewer about 1785.”

From the never-enough-sufficiently to be lamented and for-ever-departed “Pop,” the captain returns to himself. “My mother,” says he, “put me apprentice at fifteen to the head saddler in Exeter, the late Mr. Charter, whom I succeeded when I came of age, and have lived in the same house thirty-seven years, up to 1817, where my son now lives, under the firm of Cooke and Son.” He evidently takes great pleasure in setting forth the names of his customers; and he especially relates, “I got to be saddler, through the late Charles Fanshawe, recorder of Exeter, to the late lord Elliott Heathfield, colonel of dragoons. His lordship was allowed to be one of the first judges of horses and definer of saddlery in the kingdom; his lordship’s saddle-house consisted from the full bristed to the demy pick, shafto, Hanoverian, to the Dutch pad-saddles; and from the snaffle, Pelham, Weymouth, Pembroke, Elliott, Mameluke, and Chifney bridles. Chifney was groom to the prince regent. Besides all this, the vast manage horse-tackling, tomies, dumb-jockies, hobbles, lunging, lifting, and side reins. His lordship’s saddle and riding-house was a school for a saddler and dragoon. And I had the honour of being saddler to other colonels of dragoons, connoisseurs of saddlery, when they were at Exeter quarters.”