Chapter II: Part 2

Oh, where art thou dreaming,
On land or on sea?
In my lattice is gleaming
The watch-light for thee:
And this fond heart is glowing
To welcome thee home,
And the night is fast going,
But thou art not come:
Thou com'st not--No, thou com'st not!

'Tis the time when night flowers
Should wake from their rest,
'Tis the hour of all hours,
When the lute murmurs best.
But the flowers are half sleeping
Till thy glance they see,
And the hush'd lute is keeping
Its music for thee:
Yet thou com'st not--No, thou com'st not!

* * * * *

Who'll buy?--'tis Folly's shop, who'll buy?
We've toys to suit all ranks and ages;
Beside our usual fools' supply,
We've lots of playthings too, for sages.
For reasoners, here's a juggler's cup,

That fullest seems when nothing's in it;
And nine pins set, like systems, up,
To be knock'd down the following minute.
Who'll buy?--'tis Folly's shop, who'll buy?

Gay caps we here of foolscap make,
For bards to wear in dog-day weather;
Or bards the bells alone may take,
And leave to wits the cap and feather,
Tetotums we've for patriots got,
Who court the mob with antics humble;
Alike their short and dizzy lot,
A glorious spin, and then--a tumble.
Who'll buy? &c. &c.

Here misers may their bones inter
In shrouds of neat post-obit paper;
While, for their beirs, we've quicksilver,
That, fast as heart can wish, will caper.
For aldermen we've dials true,
That tell no hour but that of dinner;
For courtly parsons sermons new.
That suit alike both saint and sinner.
Who'll buy? &c. &c.

No time we've now to name our terms,
But whatsoe'er the whims that seize you.
This oldest of all mortal firms,
Folly and Co., will try to please you.
Or, should you wish a darker hue
Of goods that we can recommend you,
Why then--as we with lawyers do--
To Knavery's shop next door we'll send you.
Who'll buy? &c. &c.

* * * * *

SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS.

* * * * *

PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY AT OXFORD.

At the commencement of Michaelmas term, that is, at the end of October, in the year 1810, I happened one day to sit next to a fresh man at dinner: it was his first appearance in hall. His figure was slight, and his aspect remarkably youthful, even at our table, where all were very young. He seemed thoughtful and absent. He ate little, and seemed to have no acquaintance with any one. I know not how it was that we fell into conversation, for such familiarity was unusual, and, strange to say, much reserve prevailed in a society where there could not possibly be occasion for any. We have often endeavoured in vain to recollect in what manner our discourse began, and especially by what transition it passed to a subject sufficiently remote from all the associations we were able to trace. The stranger had expressed an enthusiastic admiration for poetical and imaginative works of the German school. I dissented from his criticisms. He upheld the originality of the German writings. I asserted their want of nature. "What modern literature," said he, "will you compare to theirs?" I named the Italian. This roused all his impetuosity; and few, as I soon discovered, were more impetuous in argumentative conversation. So eager was our dispute, that when the servants came to clear the tables, we were not aware that we had been left alone. I remarked, that it was time to quit the hall, and I invited the stranger to finish the discussion at my rooms. He eagerly assented. He lost the thread of his discourse in the transit, and the whole of his enthusiasm in the cause of Germany; for as soon as he arrived at my rooms, and whilst I was lighting the candles, he said calmly, and to my great surprise, that he was not qualified to maintain such a discussion, for he was alike ignorant of Italian and German, and had only read the works of the Germans in translations, and but little of Italian poetry, even at second hand. For my part, I confessed, with an equal ingenuousness, that I knew nothing of German, and but little of Italian! that I had spoken only through others, and like him, had hitherto seen by the glimmering light of translations. It is upon such scanty data that young men reason; upon such slender materials do they build up their opinions. It may be urged, however, that if they did not discourse freely with each other upon insufficient information--for such alone can be acquired in the pleasant morning of life, and until they educate themselves--they would be constrained to observe a perpetual silence, and to forego the numerous advantages that flow from frequent and liberal discussion. I inquired of the vivacious stranger, as we sat over our wine and dessert, how long he had been at Oxford, how he liked it, &c.? He answered my questions with a certain impatience, and resuming the subject of our discussion, he remarked that "Whether the literature of Germany, or of Italy, be the most original, or in the purest and most accurate taste, is of little importance! for polite letters are but vain trifling; the study of languages, not only of the modern tongues, but of Latin and Greek also, is merely the study of words and phrases; of the names of things; it matters not how they are called; it is surely far better to investigate things themselves." I inquired, a little bewildered, how this was to be effected? He answered, "through the physical sciences, and especially through chemistry;" and raising his voice, his face flushing as he spoke, he discoursed with a degree of animation, that far outshone his zeal in defence of the Germans, of chemistry and chemical analysis. Concerning that science, then so popular, I had merely a scanty and vulgar knowledge, gathered from elementary books, and the ordinary experiments of popular lecturers. I listened, therefore, in silence to his eloquent disquisition, interposing a few brief questions only, and at long intervals, as to the extent of his own studies and manipulations. As I felt, in truth, but a slight interest in the subject of his conversation, I had leisure to examine, and I may add, to admire, the appearance of my very extraordinary guest. It was a sum of many contradictions. His figure was slight and fragile, and yet his bones and joints were large and strong. He was tall, but he stooped so much, that he seemed of a low stature. His clothes were expensive, and made according to the most approved mode of the day; but they were tumbled, rumpled, unbrushed. His gestures were abrupt, and sometimes violent, occasionally even awkward, yet more frequently gentle and graceful. His complexion was delicate, and almost feminine, of the purest red and white; yet he was tanned and freckled by exposure to the sun, having passed the autumn, as he said, in shooting. His features, his whole face, and particularly his head, were, in fact, unusually small; yet the last _appeared_ of a remarkable bulk, for his hair was long and bushy, and in fits of absence, and in the agonies (if I may use the word) of anxious thought, he often rubbed it fiercely with his hands, or passed his fingers quickly through his locks unconsciously, so that it was singularly wild and rough. In times when it was the mode to imitate stage-coachmen as closely as possible in costume, and when the hair was invariably cropped, like that of our soldiers, this eccentricity was very striking. His features were not symmetrical, (the mouth, perhaps, excepted,) yet was the effect of the whole extremely powerful. They breathed an animation, a fire, an enthusiasm, a vivid and preternatural intelligence, that I never met with in any other countenance. Nor was the moral expression less beautiful than the intellectual; for there was a softness, a delicacy, a gentleness, and especially (though this will surprise many) that air of profound religious veneration, that characterizes the best works, and chiefly the frescoes, (and into these they infused their whole souls,) of the great masters of Florence and of Rome. I recognised the very peculiar expression in these wonderful productions long afterwards, and with a satisfaction mingled with much sorrow, for it was after the decease of him in whose countenance I had first observed it. I admired the enthusiasm of my new acquaintance, his ardour in the cause of science, and his thirst for knowledge. I seemed to have found in him all those intellectual qualities which I had vainly expected to meet with in an University. But there was one physical blemish that threatened to neutralize all his excellence. "This is a fine, clever fellow!" I said to myself, "but I can never bear his society; I shall never be able to endure his voice; it would kill me. What a pity it is!" I am very sensible of imperfections, and especially of painful sounds--and the voice of the stranger was excruciating; it was intolerably shrill, harsh and discordant; of the most cruel intension--it was perpetual, and without any remission--it excoriated the ears. He continued to discourse of chemistry, sometimes sitting, sometimes standing before the fire, and sometimes pacing about the room; and when one of the innumerable clocks that speak in various notes during the day and the night at Oxford, proclaimed a quarter to seven, he said suddenly that he must go to a lecture on mineralogy, and declared enthusiastically that he expected to derive much pleasure and instruction from it. I am ashamed to own that the cruel voice made me hesitate for a moment; but it was impossible to omit so indispensable a civility--I invited him to return to tea; he gladly assented, promised that he would not be absent long, snatched his cap, hurried out of the room, and I heard his footsteps, as he ran through the silent quadrangle, and afterwards along the High-street. An hour soon elapsed, whilst the table was cleared, and the tea was made, and I again heard the footsteps of one running quickly. My guest suddenly burst into the room, threw down his cap, and as he stood shivering and chafing his hands over the fire, he declared how much he had been disappointed in the lecture. Few persons attended; it was dull and languid, and he was resolved never to go to another. "I went away, indeed," he added, with an arch look and in a shrill whisper, coming close to me as he spoke--"I went away, indeed, before the lecture was finished. I stole away; for it was so stupid, and I was so cold, that my teeth chattered. The Professor saw me, and appeared to be displeased. I thought I could have got out without being perceived; but I struck my knee against a bench, and made a noise, and he looked at me. I am determined that he shall never see me again."

"What did the man talk about?

"About stones! about stones!" he answered, with a downcast look and in a melancholy tone, as if about to say something excessively profound. "About stones!--stones, stones, stones!--nothing but stones!--and so drily. It was wonderfully tiresome--and stones are not interesting things in themselves!"

_New Monthly Magazine._

* * * * *

WAR SONG,

FOR THE ARMY TO BE SENT AGAINST THE EMPEROR OF CHINA.

Come, tie on your bonnet, your shawl, and your boa!
Each proud virgin amazon, onward with me!
Come, rouse for the fight, all ye maids who adore[25]
The flavour of Twankay, Souchong, or Bohea!

Come, clatter the tea-cups, and brandish each spoon,
Beat loudly the tea-tray, the kettle, and urn;
No more for the lover or sweet honey-moon,
But for Twankay and war let your soft bosoms burn!

Shall a petitcoat savage--the horrible bore--
Infringe on our rights, and deny us our tea?
No, no! by the gown which my grandmother wore.
We'll smother the wretch in a chest of Bohea!

Come, launch, by brave maidens, each tea-chest canoe,
And spread out your large Canton crapes to the air;
The kettle sings muster-call--hark! the cats mew!
"Young Hyson"'s the word, the "delight of the fair!"

Great Twining a tea-wreath shall twine for us all--
The fairest of females looks far more divine at tea;
If we conquer, we'll drink twenty cups; if we fall,
Why--_"nec possum vivere cum te, nec sine te."_

Twenty cups! think of Johnson, when kind Mrs. Thrale
Filled him fifty at least, and he wished they were bowls.
With ardour like his, which among ye can fail?
Come, Doctor, and kindle your thirst in our souls!

Then onward, brave maidens, push off from the coast,
For such brogueless tyrants we care not a pin;
But do not forget, my fair tea-drinking host,
A stout Witney blanket to toss the wretch in!

Oh! the plunder of Pekin! what silks and what shawls!
The Chinese, in spite of themselves, shall be free:
For, we'll bombard the city with hot force-meat balls,
And blow up their warriors with gunpowder tea!

Then tie on your bonnet, your shawl, and your boa,
And with war-cry of "Hyson-dust!" onward with me;
Come, brandish your tea-spoons, ye maids who adore
The flavour of Twankay, Souchong, or Bohea!

_Monthly Magazine._

[25] We are aware that this rhyme is rather unusual; but we may
parody the maxim of _Sir Lucius_--"When patriotism guides the
pen, he must be a brute that would find fault with the rhyme."

* * * * *

USEFUL DOMESTIC HINTS.

* * * * *

ECONOMIC HINTS.

_Box-wood as a substitute for Hops._--M. Du Petit Thouars lately stated to the Philomathic Society of Paris, that more box-wood than hops was employed in making almost all the beer brewed in Paris. Box-wood contains a powerful sodorific principle with a bitter taste, which has lately been separated, and is now known under the name of Buxinia.--_Bull. Un._

_Receipt for making Grape Wine, used in 1819._--Water, 4-3/4 gallons, beer measure; grapes, 5 gallons, beer measure, crushed and soaked in the water seven days; sugar, 17-1/2 lbs. at 10-3/4_d_. The sugar came to 15_s_. 8-1/2_d_.; and the grapes to perhaps 5_s_. The cask in which it was made held exactly 6-3/4 gallons, of beer measure, and produced 34 bottles of wine clear. A bottle of the above wine, kept ten years, proved very good.

_Wine from the common Bramble._--Five measures of the ripe fruit, with one of honey and six of water, boiled, strained, and left to ferment, then boiled again, and put in casks to ferment, are said to produce an excellent wine. In France the colour of wine is often rendered darker by a mixture of blackberries with the grapes.--_Recueil Industriel_.

_Receipt for making Tomato Sauce._--Take tomatoes when ripe, and bake them till they become quite soft; then scoop them out with a tea-spoon, and rub the pulp through a sieve. To the pulp put as much Chile vinegar as will bring it to a proper thickness, with salt to your taste. Add to every quart 1/2 oz. of garlic and 1 oz. of shallots, both sliced very thin. Boil it one quarter of an hour; then strain, and take out the garlic and shallots. After standing till quite cold, put the sauce into stone bottles, and let it stand a few days before it is corked up. If, when the bottles are open, the sauce should appear to be in a fermenting state, put some more salt and boil it over again. The sauce should be the thickness of rich cream when poured out, and is, in my opinion, far superior to the famed Bengal chattny, to which it bears considerable resemblance.

_Economical Fuel._--A good fire on a winter day, at a mere trifling expense, is of importance to a poor man. One pennyworth of tar or rosin water will saturate a tub of coals with triple its original quantity of bitumen (the principle of heat and light), and, of course, render one such tub of three times more value than it was when unsaturated.

Where there are extensive fir and pine woods which have been subjected to the injurious practice of close pruning, the knots left will frequently be found oozing out resin. This gardeners' labourers and cottagers might collect, reduce to a fine powder, and mix up with small coal, horse droppings, and clay, into fire-balls.--_Gardeners' Mag._

* * * * *

THE GATHERER.

A snapper up of unconsidered trifles.
SHAKSPEARE.

* * * * *

COPY OF A LETTER RECEIVED BY A YOUNG LADY FROM A COUNTRY COUSIN.

"DEAR ELIZABETH,--I arrived a few months since in this over-grown metropolis--Modern Babolon I believe they call it--more properly, I should think, Gabble-on, for my head goes round like a whipping-top, being kept in rotatory motion by all the discordant sounds in the 'Enraged Musician.' Having been but a short time in town, I have not had the pleasure of seeing many of the metropolitan wonders. The following places were visited by me lately:--The British Museum, my dear girl--never saw such a collection of mutilated articles: statues, like the boroughs in schedule B in the Reform Bill; manuscripts, in languages scarcely understood, and such like curiosities. St. Paul's--a great building--I dare say the Londoners are very proud of it: a fine whispering gallery, where you may hear what is said at the most distant part: no place for kissing--worse than a friend's parlour. Guildhall: a very antique building, with two huge figures--to frighten little children, I suppose. There was a fine feast: numbers of fine folks in their Sunday clothes, whom I should suppose lived very queer at home--perhaps upon tripe, for the victuals disappeared so fast. I had almost forgot to mention the pleasures of Bartholomew Fair, a place unequalled for dirt and noise--where was to be seen horses that had run at races, though they had never been on a course; bears turned to pigged--faced ladies; play-booths, where more fun was to be seen outside than in--men dressed like baboons, and women screaming, 'Show them in, only a penny a-piece!' Oysters, ginger-beer, hot pork, hot beef-steaks, and gingerbread-nuts by the bushel. Had almost forgot, my dear girl, to apologize for not having paid you a visit since your removal to the suburbs--peaceful abode!--nothing equal to my lodgings, next door to a coppersmith, opposite to a box-maker, with a shoemaker overhead, and a good woman who takes in children to 'dry-nurse' in the parlour. Hope soon to see you, having to give you a kiss for each of your cousins, quarter cousins, friends, and acquaintances.--I remain, your's truly,

"A COUNTRY COUSIN."

W.G.C.

* * * * *

CHINESE PROVERBS AND APOTHEGMS.

"It is very difficult to govern women and servants."

[This is a maxim of Confucius, who assigns this reason. "For if you treat them with gentleness and familiarity, they lose all respect; if with rigour you will have continual disturbance."]

"If the river is deep, which you are to pass on foot, go through it clothed in the ancient manner; if shallow, tuck up your garments."

[The Chinese believe that at first men went naked, or at most loosely clad in the skin of some animal. Vide Mart. Hist. p. 18. This proverb is applied to inculcate the necessity of accommodating one's self to the different circumstances of life.]

"Know when to stop seasonably."

"Learn to be content with what suffices."

["What need have we of riches? (saith a Chinese moralist.) Produce me the man, who, content with a straw cottage, and a little enclosure of canes, employs himself in reading the writings of our wise men, or in discoursing on virtue; who desires no other recreation than to refresh himself with the cool air by moonshine, and whose whole solicitude is to preserve in his heart the love of innocence and of his neighbour." P. Du Halde, 2. 103.]

Similar to this proverb are the Latin, "Quod satis est cui continget nihil amplius optet."

The French, "Qui a assez, n'a plus rien à desirer."

And the English "Enough is as good as a feast."

"Let us love others, as we love ourselves."--_Confucius_.

G.L.S.

* * * * *

ANCIENT TOM AND JERRY.

The Emperor Nero would frequently ramble in the streets of Rome, diguised by night, with a band of disorderly companions, abusing all that fell in their way. In the beginning of Nero's reign, Otho, who was then distinguished as a young man of graceful person but licentious manners, was one of Nero's favourites and accompanied him from his palace, to visit the meanest taverns and scenes of debauchery which Rome contained.

Suetonius tells us--"The Emperor Otho, would stroll out in dark nights, and where he met a helpless, or drunken man, he gave him the discipline of the _Blanket_, which was a kind of punishment called _sagatio_; alias '_Tossing in a Blanket_:"

"All, oh! he cried--what street, what lane, but knows
Our purgings, pumpings, _blanketings_, and blows?"

POPE.

In truth, Nero and Otho were the Tom and Jerry (or something worse) of ancient days, and if now in existence they would be _tossed_ into a jail or tread-mill, or else find _special good bail_.[26]

P.T.W.

[26] Sir Richard Birnie would never suffer _imperial larking_
to go unpunished.

* * * * *

An Irish footman, who got a situation at the west end of London, on entering a room where there was a vase with golden fish, exclaimed, "Well, by J----, this is the first time I ever saw red herrings alive."

* * * * *

ANAGRAMS.

Fits creep on Perfections.
All my ten i sent Sentimentally.
Timon is least Testimonials.
A mild bear Admirable.
Our big hens Neighbours.
Peters cable Respectable.
Grin o ant Ignorant.
I cant tell soon Constellation.
Saint lucy heals it Enthusiastically.
A minor in soup Parsimonious.
On a trial Variegated.
Tame nests Statesman.

W.G.C.

* * * * *

THE KING AT FOURTEEN.

With the present Number, price Twopence,

A SUPPLEMENT,

With a STEEL-PLATE PORTRAIT of His Present

Majesty,

WILLIAM IV.

AT FOURTEEN YEARS OF AGE.

From a Picture by B. West, P.R.A.

Anecdotic Memoir; and Title-Page, Preface, and Index; completing VOL. XVIII.

* * * * *

_Printed and Published by J. LIMBIRD, 143, Strand, (near Somerset House,) London; sold by ERNEST FLEISCHER, 626, New Market, Leipsic; G.G. BENNIS. 55. Rue Neuve, St. Augustin, Paris; and be all Newsmen and Booksellers_.

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