the CHAMBERS'S EDINBURGH JOURNAL. dog in Cork, who, when vexed, barked at, and bitten at by a cur, took it up in his mouth, went quietly to and dropped it into the river; and when quay, after a time he saw it carried down by a strong tide, and unable to swim to shore, he plunged in, took the culprit by the neck, brought it to land, and, giving it a shake, departed; the shake being as much as a hint Here was justice tempered to go and sin no more. with mercy-here was an acquaintance with the nature and uses of secondary punishments, that would have done credit to a political economist. But I cannot leave the subject of dogs without recounting what I heard within these few days, respecting a dog I have the pleasure of knowing; and I am assured that the facts can be attested by fifty persons or more; in truth, by the inhabitants of a whole village. any extended process of reasoning, that the more we This lecture, we repeat, is one that does honour alike WEATHER-WISDOM. with certainty what will be the state of our weather BIOGRAPHIC SKETCHES. The rector of a parish in the county of Sligo, at pointed to a curacy, where he was loved, honoured, and followed. But in the midst of his sacred labours, and in attendance on a sick-bed, he got a fever; during the progress of the disease, his parents were apprised of his illness, but not so as to communicate much apprehension; but, still being at a distance of one hundred and forty miles, they were anxiously looking out for another letter. In this interval the spaniel was observed to have left the hall door, where he usually basked during the day, and betake himself to a high ditch that overlooked the road towards Dublin. There he continued to howl at intervals, and though sometimes coaxed away, and sometimes driven by his master with blows, he returned, and for two days continued; when, without any apparent reason, he left the spot, and came back to his usual haunts. In the regular course of post, a letter brought the sad tidings, that on the day on which the dog ceased howling, the young man had breathed his last. cate and difficult matter. SOME people pretend to be wonderfully skilled in fore- Latterly, we have had a class of professional weather- Of all the sights under the sun, perhaps the most touchingly grievous is the spectacle of parents mourning over the death of children that have arrived at maturity, and who just give the goodly promise of being the sure stay of their declining years. The parents I now allude to, have been sorely tried in this way; for, the year following, the next son, a youth of twenty, a fine manly fellow, with every quality of head and heart that a fond father could desire; he, also, was seized with fever. It is not for me to detail the alternations of hope and fear that possessed the minds of this much-tried family. But what I must relate is, that the spaniel was found to have returned to his former station on the ditch, and there was uttering his melancholy howl. I can never forget the deep feeling with which the father told me how an aged female follower of the family, who had nursed the boy, and taught him to lisp Irish on her lap, came up and told him in an agony of tears that it was all of no use-he might as well send away the doctor-for that yonder was the dog, and there he was howling, and it was all over with Master Edward, for God had called him away: And so it was. The youth died; and from that moment the dog ceased to howl; neither was he any more seen resorting to the place he had so ominously occupied. I have heard of many similar instances of dogs being acquainted with the coming death of those they love, but not with one so well attested as this. I tell what I believe to be true, and without drawing any superstitious or supernatural inferences from it. I can only conclude, that there may be communicated to the acute senses of dogs, and other animals (as, for instance, ravens and magpies), evidences of approaching dissolution, which to us are altogether unexplain-yearable; and that there may be in heaven and earth things not dreamed of in our philosophy. In corroboration of the above statement, I give the following extract of a letter I received from a lady with whom I had subsequently conversed, and who, I am assured, would not knowingly assert what she thought was untrue :— I hope you will accept the following statement, in return for the gratification I received from your lecture on the sagacity of animals : When I was a child on my dear mother's knee, she often amused me with stories of the affection and sagacity of "Dick," her father's favourite dog. One incident remained deeply impressed on my mind. My grandfather, Mr Hm, of the county of Cavan, came to Dublin on business, and shortly after Dick repaired to an old limekiln, which he refused to leave, and then set up a dismal and incessant howl. The next post brought the news that Mr Hseized with gout in his stomach, and before his son The dog ceased could reach Dublin, he was no more. to howl exactly at the period of his master's death; and having refused the food brought to him, was found dead before the funeral arrived at the family burial-place.' -m was certain number of years, and then the routine begins "April.-About average windy; in cloudiness nothing remarkable; frosty; yet days temperate and mild promise a full average-and why? because the days of rain promise considerably above average; quantity of rain much above average. Characterslightly windy, slightly cloudy, and very wet; this month will damp the agriculturist.” Now, we ask if ever an event more completely falsified a prediction. Instead of being very wet, it is notorious that all over the country April was a miracle of drought and sunshine-the driest and most beautiful sunny weather that has been experienced during spring within the memory of man. We wish it to be understood that we should consider the exposure of this piece of delusion as quite beneath notice, unless for the purpose of warning simple people against putting any faith in such gross absurdities. There is always a tolerably large section of the public who will believe any thing, provided it be asserted with a sufficient degree be brought repeatedly before them in print. It should of earnestness and pretension, and particularly if it for I have not finished; for though I have satisfacing persons, that the weather in Great Britain is depenIt is now time for me to have done; done, I say, be made known to these credulous though well-meantorily proved, at least to myself, that inferior animals dent on atmospheric phenomena occurring at thousands of miles' distance on the Atlantic Ocean, in high have intellectuality, I have not shown how the mere intimate observation and study of their capabilities can make them more happy in themselves, or more useful northern latitudes, or in remote parts of continental to us. But I think that it may be inferred, without Europe, Asia, and Africa; and, therefore, to foretell * * At nine years of age, he was sent to the village continued for three years to pursue the same studies school, and there, under a worthy and intelligent, as he had done under his father. Summers was also caligraphist, or practiser of beautiful writing, and though unpretending teacher, named Summers, he Meanwhile, the father was not idle. Every evening helped greatly to improve young Porson in that art. he called forward his son, and caused him to repeat same order in which the exercises had occurred at from memory the school exercises of the day, and that not in a loose or desultory manner, but in exactly the county, who never would have been heard of if he had school. There is something very remarkable in these traits of an obscure parish-clerk in an English rural not chanced to have a child of such extraordinary genius. The methods which this poor villager took to teach his children were nearly identical with those which philosophical persons of a later day recomof accomplishing the ends of their profession. mended as the most efficient, and which are now practised by all teachers who wish to take the best means Richard remained with Mr Summers three years, him, and the wonderful fidelity with which he retained and, before the end of that period, his singular proon his memory whatever he had acquired, became the pensities to study, his attention to whatever was taught subject of notice and admiration even in that rustic community. He attracted the attention of the Rev. the classics. This benevolent person at the same Mr Hewitt, the officiating clergyman of the parish, time gave instructions to Thomas, a younger brother who took him under his care, in order to teach him the same time, and who was also much above the of Richard, who had gone to Mr Summers's school at average of children in aptitude for learning. The amounted to a prodigy, and soon engaged the notice of progress of both boys was great; but that of Richard all the gentlemen in the vicinity. An opulent and was so fully convinced of his singular capacity, that liberal person named Norris heard of him, and, having put him through an examination of the severest kind, To this seminary Porson proceeded in August 1774, he resolved at his own expense to send him to Eton. when nearly fifteen years of age; and there, almost from the commencement of his career, he displayed such proofs of a superior intellect, such quickness of perception, such facility in acquirement, and such a talent of bringing forward to his purpose all that h with open arms had ever read, that he quickly reached the f ed, favoured him by imparting to into their society. As far the occupants of which received himuth form, him all they had themselves acquired; but they were more indebted to their youthful associate, who became boys, as they are as they could, these upper their never-failing resource in every difficulty, as well as the leader of all their sports and frolics. That these were closely mixed up with graver exercises, appears from an anecdote which we shall venture on telling, notwithstanding that its point turns on a language, the frequent quotation of which we conceive to be attended with disadvantages. The master had proposed as the subject of a Latin theme or exercise, the question “ whether, in killing Caesar, Brutus did well or ill," being expressed in the words, "Cæsare occiso, an Brutus benefecit aut malefecit?" A game being proposed, young Porson joined the scholars in their sports, in which he became so much engrossed that he entirely forgot the theme. When the time arrived for handing up the production expected from him, he was suddenly brought to a recollection of his duty, and, hastily snatching a pen, he wrote, "Nec bene fecit, nec male fecit, sed interfecit," that is, "He neither did well nor ill, but merely killed"-an exquisite pun, and at the same time a most dexterous evasion of a difficult moral question. The effect of this happy sentence, so unexpectedly substituted for a long and formal discussion, may be imagined. On another occasion, when the form were going up to say a lesson in Homer, Porson whispered to a neighbour, "I have lost my book; let me look over the lesson in yours." He did so was called out to construe-went with a Virgil in his hand-and from that book appeared to read out the lesson, which, though consisting of a hundred and twenty lines, he had instantaneously fixed in his memory from a single hurried reading. Boy as he still was, he soon became remarkable for his compositions, both serious and humorous; one of which was a drama, which was exhibited in the Long Room. Too great application at one time produced effects which threatened him with consumption, but his constitution threw off the symptoms. Here, however, he lost by death his patron Mr Norris, which he lamented for reasons of affection as much as for its injury to his own prospects. Fortunately he obtained other patrons, who were equally anxious to furnish him with the means of advancement. Towards the end of 1777, when he was eighteen years of age, he was entered at Trinity College, Cambridge. His character had gone before him to the university. He was from the first regarded as a youth whose extraordinary endowments, if life and health were spared, might be expected to add lustre even to Trinity, certainly one of the greatest and most distinguished academic bodies in the world. He at first engaged in mathematics, but soon quitted that study with little benefit, and sat down to the classics, in which he quickly distanced all competitors. He gained the prize-medal as a matter of course, and in 1781 was elected a fellow of his college. From 1785, when he took the degree of Master of Arts, may be dated the commencement of his career as a writer. The bent of his mind was towards philology and criticism. He had a singular dexterity in detecting in the Greek writers those incorrect readings which have arisen principally from the mistakes of copyists. Amongst the numerous manuscripts of ancient authors preserved in the library of Trinity College, he had found ample scope for the exercise of this talent, which might henceforth be said to be that by which he was chiefly distinguished. Some notes on an edition of the Anabasis of Xenophon, published by a bookseller at Cambridge in 1786, are said to have been his first effort in criticism which saw the light. He also contributed to the periodical works, particularly the Monthly Review and Gentleman's Magazine, many short papers of verbal criticism on ancient authors. Amongst these were some comments on the contested text of 1st John, v. 7, respecting the three heavenly witnesses, in answer to a work by Archdeacon Travis. Porson brought to bear on this question an amount of erudition and an acuteness of discrimination which excited great attention, and are now generally allowed to have set at rest a point which had long been disputed amongst theologians. Amongst other compositions of this period was a series of letters in the Gentleman's Magazine, on Sir John Hawkins's Life of Dr Johnson: they are signed "Sundry Whereof," and are full of humour and sarcasm. He speaks of "a parcel of Eton boys, not having the fear of God before their eyes, instead of playing truant, robbing orchards, annoying poultry, or performing any other part of their school exercise,' falling foul of the knight's book in their periodical work styled the Microcosm-to which, if we recollect rightly, Mr Canning contributed. Garrick, he says, described Shakspeare as when he sat down to write dipping the pen in his own heart; so may it be said of Sir John that "he is the clerk of biography, dipping his pen into the Statutes at Large," And much more to the like purpose. powers of learning and diligence in the editing of various ancient authors, particularly the Greek dramatic poets; and it is allowed that in this particular walk he has never been surpassed or even approached by any. His life, however, was not altogether one of primitive and retired scholarship. It is now necessary to turn from the contemplation of Porson, as a youth of obscure birth rising by the force of genius to distinction and an office of high trust, and to regard him in the light in which he appeared as a member of common society. It was not, then, vouchsafed to this wonderful man, at once to be a prodigy of abstruse learning and mental acuteness, and a steady and respectable man of the world. A strong cast of eccentricity marked the whole of his conduct. After a day of intense study amongst the intellectual great of two thousand years ago, he delighted to plunge into a common tavern, and sit smoking a pipe and drinking ale amidst the chance-collected groups which usually are found in such places. Sometimes he would be lost to his friends for weeks and months, while engaged in some huge task, such as few besides himself could have encountered; and then he would all at once burst out from his study, and be abandoned for a time to mere frivolity. In company he was apt to be egotistical and rude, and to any one who dissented from him, severe; yet he was not above endeavouring to please ladies by making for them riddles and charades, a kind of composition in which he greatly excelled. His years were devoted to the duty of clearing up obscurities in the Greek drama; yet it never could be observed that he had the least feeling for elegant literature; and the whole bent of his taste, as shown in conversation and in occasional verse-making, was towards what may be called the coarsely humorous. It may even be lamented that the powers of his mind, if superior to those of most | men, were employed to purposes of by no means great importance. If well regulated and rightly directed, they might unquestionably have proved of great service to his fellow-creatures at large; used as they were, they only cleared up some obscurities in a few authors whose writings are totally unknown to the many. A gentleman who knew Porson intimately, gave, in a memoir of himself a few years ago, some highly characteristic anecdotes of the learned man, some of which we deem it worth while to include in this short paper. "I had invited him," says this writer, "to meet a party of friends in Sloane Street, where I lived; but the professor had mistaken the day, and made his appearance in full costume the preceding one. We had already dined, and were at our cheese. * * * ، Your blunder, my friend, will cost me a beef steak and a bottle of your favourite Trinity ale; so that you will be the gainer.' He sat on, as was his custom in the afternoon,' till past midnight, emptying every flask and decanter that came in his way. As I knew there was no end to his bacchanalia when fairly seated with plenty of drink and a listener, I retired without ceremony, leaving him to finish the remains of some half dozen of bottles; for the quality of the stuff was immaterial to the professor, provided he had quantity. On my descending the following morning to breakfast, I was surprised to find my friend lounging on a sofa, and perusing with great attention a curious volume of Italian tales, which I had picked up in my travels. I learned that, having found the liquor so choice, and the Norelle Antiche so interesting, he had trimmed his lamp, and remained on the premises. I think,' said he, that with the aid of a razor and a light-coloured neckcloth and a brush, I shall be smart enough for your fine party.' A pretty large company assembled in the evening, and Porson treated them with a translation (without book) of the curious tale which had excited his notice. So extraordinary was his memory, that although there were above forty names introduced into the story, he had only forgotten one. This annoyed him so much that he started from the table, and after pacing about the room for ten minutes, he stopped short, exclaiming, 'Eureka!' [I have found it]. The count's name is Don Francesco Averani !' The party sat till three o'clock in the morning, but Porson would not stir; and it was with no small difficulty that my brother could prevail on him to take his departure at fire, having favoured me with his company exactly thirty-six hours! During this sitting I calculated that he finished a bottle of alcohol, two of Trinity ale, six of claret, besides the lighter sort of wines, of which I could take no account; he also emptied a half-pound canister of snuff, and during the first night smoked a bundle of cigars !"* Before the period arrived when it was necessary for Porson either to enter into holy orders or to resign his fellowship, he had determined on the latter course. Being on terms of intimacy with Mr Perry, He was unaffectedly pious, and bore all desirable re- the editor of the Morning Chronicle, Porson formed spect for the church, but his mind was not disposed an attachment to a sister of that gentleman, a Mrs to submit to shackles of any kind. He made this Lunan, a widow. He was not supposed to be a choice with the full consciousness that he had no other person likely to contract marriage, more especially dependence for support than qualifications the profit a marriage of inclination; but in this notion his which is perhaps the very smallest in proportion to friends were found at fault. According to the mein the world. His conscientiousness was moirist already quoted, "One night, while he was their crea measure by his being, in 1791, ap-smoking his pipe at the cider-cellar in Maiden Lane rewarded in some... pointed professor of Green in Trinity College. The (his favourite haunt) with my brother, he said, adsalary of this office was only forty ponds a-year; but dressing his companion, Friend George, do you not think the widow Lunan an agreeable sort of personPorson hoped to make it more lucrative, as well as efficient, by delivering a course of lectures in the col- age, as times go?' throwing out a huge volume of lege. Being thwarted in this object, and not liking smoke. An affirmative nod, and a compliment to the college life, he returned to London, and settled himself in an apartment of the Temple. Here he continued for some years, exercising his extraordinary * "Personal Memoirs, or Reminiscences of Men and Manners," By Pryse Lockhart Gordon, Esq. 2 rok 1830. lady, was the reply. In that case you must meet me at St Martin's-in-the-Fields to-morrow morning at eight o'clock,' rejoined the other; and so saying, and finishing the remnant of his liquor, he threw down his reckoning and retired. My brother, who knew his man well, though not a little astonished, determined to attend to the invitation, and at the hour fixed repaired to the church, where he found the professor and the fair widow attended by a female friend, with the parson and his clerk. The licence being produced, the ceremony (a very short one) took place, when the parties separated, the bride and her friend retiring by one door, and Porson and his man by another. It appeared that the alliance had for some time been contemplated, but the lady objected without her brother's approbation; on this point, however, Porson was immoveable; and the widow, well knowing his temper, at length gave her consent to the clandestine step. My brother now urged him to declare his marriage to Mr Perry, who he could not doubt would be speedily reconciled, though perhaps hurt at not being consulted; but the professor would not listen to this advice, and they parted. In a few hours, however, the Benedick entered in his best dress, namely, black satin nether garments and ruffled shirt, which he only wore on solemn occasions. 'Friend George,' said he, I shall for once take advice (which I seldom do, as you know), and hold out the olive branch, provided you will accompany me to the Court of Lancaster.* You are a good peace-maker.' They got into a hackney coach and found Mr Perry at home. The bridegroom was presented, made a speech, and though his friend's self-love was a little ruffled, a reconciliation soon took place, a few friends were summoned in haste, a handsome dinner was served, and an apartment was provided for the newly married couple.” The lady died of decline, in 1797, after having been married only two years to the professor. * * A remarkable anecdote of the persevering application of which Porson was capable, is told with reference to this period of his life. He had obtained from the library of Trinity College a manuscript of great value in the eyes of the learned world, namely, a lexicon or dictionary of the Greek language, which had been compiled in the seventh century by Photius, & patriarch of Constantinople. Porson employed ten months in copying this work in his beautiful hand; a great task, certainly, when we consider the care necessary at once for correctness, and for the elegance of the penmanship. Most unfortunately, in a fire which burnt down Mr Perry's house at Merton, this copy was destroyed. The original might have met the same fate, if Porson had not made it a point of conscience to carry it with him wherever he went, from consi deration of its value, and of its having been entrusted to him by his college; and he then chanced to be absent. Unruffled by the loss, the patient scholar sat down and made a second copy as beautiful as the first. He afterwards prepared this work for the press, but did not live to publish it. It may here be remarked, that Porson seemed to like the business of copying a most surprising taste, considering the liveliness of his faculties, but which was probably owing to his early training in caligraphy. It was regretted by many that he spent so much time in that employment, which might have been better spent in the duties of the critic and annotator. From 1797, Porson was afflicted with a spasmodic asthma, by which his studies were rendered still more desultory than before. During the attacks of this malady, he could not go to bed, and deemed it necessary to deny himself all sustenance. It is probable that, with regularity of life, and a due submission to medical advice, he might have overcome the disease; but Porson could neither restrain himself from convivial indulgences, nor admit that physic and physicians had any power over human ailments. He continued, nevertheless, to devote much of his time to study, and, besides publishing several of the plays of Euripides, with such learned notes as the world had never seen equalled, he had lent considerable aid to an edition of Æschylus, which appeared in 1806. He also paid occasional visits to Trinity College, where he was received as a kind of divinity, being the very prince of the little domain of talent which was most appreciated there. In 1807, by the interest of some friends who were anxious to obtain for him a regular means of livelihood, he was appointed librarian of the London Institution, with a salary of L.200 a-year, which was probably much beyond what he had any inclination to spend. But he was not long to enjoy this congenial office. He had latterly been much weakened by the asthma, and in the autumn of 1808, being attacked by intermittent fever, instead of having recourse to medical advice, now imminently necessary, he only resorted to his usual expedient of abstinence from food, by which he reduced his stomach so much that it entirely lost its tone. One evening [Monday, 19th September], he crawled forth to take a walk in the Strand, when he was suddenly seized with a paroxysm of the nature of epilepsy, to which he had been subject at an early period of his life. To quote an account given to the public at the time-" Not being known to the persons who witnessed his situation, he was conveyed to the St Martin's workhouse, where he continued in a state of total insensibility until about six o'clock on the This seems to have been a jocular term for Mr Perry's es tablishment which was in Lancaster Court. * following morning; but one of the attendants of the London Institution, seeing a paragraph in a paper stating that circumstance, and that the gentleman earried to the workhouse had a memorandum-book, with some Greek notes, in his pocket, supposing it to be Mr Porson, repaired thither, and brought him to his house in the Old Jewry, where he arrived a little before ten on Tuesday morning." For some hours he sat and conversed in the library, but going out again at three o'clock, he was seized with the former symptoms, was again brought home, and after a few days of torpor, breathed his last. The immediate cause of his death was believed to be the abstinence which he had so injudiciously practised. He was buried with great state a few days after in the chapel of Trinity College, when Greek epitaphs were strewed in profusion on his coffin, and learned recluses were seen to weep as his body was lowered into the tomb. This is no place for a laborious description of the literary character of Porson, or of his works. It may be remarked, however, that, as an union of great acuteness of intellect with vast memory, of the most sedulous application to a dry study with uncommon wit and sprightliness, of the simplicity of the student with habits of extreme conviviality, it is scarcely surprising that he should have excited so much wonder amongst his contemporaries, and should still be looked back to as a kind of prodigy. With regard to personal matters, his head, we are told by Mr Gordon, "was remarkably fine, an expansive forehead, over which was smoothly combed (when in dress) his shining brown hair. His nose was Roman, with a keen and penetrating eye, shaded with long lashes. His mouth was full of expression, and altogether his countenance indicated deep thought. His stature was nearly six feet. He was fond of reciting favourite passages from Shakspeare. The fine intonations of a melodious voice, and the varied expression of his features, on these occasions, were admirable." The political professions of Porson were those of a Whig; but he paid little attention to subjects of that nature. NARRATIVE OF A PRISONER OF STATE.* ON referring to No. 351 of the Journal, the reader will find an outline of the first part of a narrative by Alexander Andryane, a young Frenchman, whose enthusiastic sentiments on the subject of national liberty had led him to involve himself in the attempts made about seventeen years ago to subvert the Austrian power in Italy. Having been arrested and thrown into prisen in Milan, Andryane there underwent a year's severe suffering, both bodily and mental, and finally was condemned to imprisonment for life in the too famous fortress of Spielberg, situated near Brunn, in the Austrian province of Moravia. His first narrative, published in 1838, contained an account of his adventures up to his entrance into that dungeon, which took place in the beginning of the year 1824. A second part, which has just issued from the press, now lies before us, and is devoted to the history of Andryane's captivity at Spielberg, where Silvio Pellico, Confalonieri, and other Italians of distinction, were his fellow sufferers. Both narratives have been ably translated from the original French by Fortunato Prandi, an Italian at present residing in England. At his last parting with his sister, before being conveyed from Milan to Spielberg, Andryane had exclaimed to her, "I am buried at five-and-twenty, but my resignation will not abandon me. Under all circumstances I hope I shall prove worthy of you." On first beholding Spielberg, however, the captive had some difficulty in maintaining his composure of mind. The fortress is described by him as "an oblong square, surrounded on every side with buildings, whose narrow grated windows, and low iron-studded doors, would have filled us with dismay had we been there merely as visitors." On entering the building, and being led to the cell destined for him, Andryane was still further moved. "When I saw before me the dark den in which they were about to entomb me, I could not help exclaiming in agony, Merciful heaven! am I condemned to live in such a place as this? A pallet bed, a pitcher, and a tub, formed the whole of the furniture. Used as I was to the nakedness of prisons, and the privation of every thing most essential to life, this utter destitution made my heart shrink." The treatment to which the prisoners were subjected at the very outset, accorded but too well with the character of the scene. tallow," and filthy black bean-bread, constituted the "Soup garnished with lumps of food placed before them. Such was the vile odour of these articles, and the unclean condition of the iron porringers containing them, that Andryane and Colonel A, the companion with whom he was at first shut up, could not touch the meal, in spite of all their hunger. "The narrowness, also, of the cell (says Andryane) precluded my walking; a dreadful torture, after the restraint I had endured on the journey." When he lay down on his hard pallet, its scanty size caused him to tumble off it every now and then, and · *Memoirs of a Prisoner of State in the Fortress of Spielberg, by Alexander Andryane, &c. London, Saunders and Otley. 1840. the challenges of the numerous sentries, repeated loudly SILVIO PELLICO, PIERO MARONCELLI.'" 159 lightened their gloomy dungeons, and rendered palatable their coarse and filthy food, were taken away from them through the instrumentality of Paolowitz, "Ah, sir (said Andryane on the occasion to the governor), this is a second sentence of death! My nouncement, was shared by every one in the prison. own affliction," he continues, "at this dreadful anthis inhuman deprivation." To add to their distress, One universal cry was uttered against the author of they could not now procure paper for the maintenance furnished them with odd leaves and scraps, but now they had nothing but brown paper; and until one of of their occasional correspondence. Their books had their number struck out one of those ideas that necessity alone can give birth to, they were greatly at brown paper serviceable. It would not allow the pen a loss. "Vainly had we long attempted to make the thing that we wrote upon it immediately became an to glide, and it imbibed the ink like a sponge. Every illegible blot. Trial after trial had failed, and at last we abandoned the scheme as impracticable. Maroncelli, more persevering, at length succeeded. Nothing from him, written on this coarse paper. could equal the joy with which I received a letter my friends,' it said, 'the difficulty is overcome. The rubbed the paper again and again-rubbed it till my 'Behold, arms ached-in the hope of rendering it more compen runs freely; the ink does not spread. At first I pact and smooth by friction; but despite all my pains, it would not take the ink. The idea struck me at dissolved some crumbs of bread in our jug of water, and steeped several slips of the paper in this infusion last that it was size that it wanted. Accordingly I during the night. This morning I dried and then rubbed them perfectly smooth with the back of my wooden spoon, after which I took my pen, and distinctly traced on one of them these words: "Praised taken pity on us!" Succeeding attempts have been be the Lord our God, for that he is good, and hath even more satisfactory. Try it, my friends, by immediately writing one of your affectionate letters upon the slips which I send you herewith.'" Pellico from the high-minded Pellico, and Andryane con- the bits of brick within their reach. This dilemma This epistle was the forerunner of various others veyor could bring no more soot, and they used out all trived to answer him by means of the same convict, gave occasion to one of the most striking and noble Their ink, however, failed also; their convict purwho was a dexterous and good-natured rogue. This instances of fraternal devotion which the history of interchange of sentiments was inexpressibly pleasing mankind can perhaps present. Andryane had begun to all parties. After some months of durance, a new mandant of the fortress entered his cell one morning, few scarcely legible characters, my distress to Pellico source of pleasure dawned on Andryane. The com- for the want of ink. "I announced (says he), by a and desired him to rise and follow, as a new companion and Maroncelli, when sending them by the faithful a literary work, which he could not proceed with had been allotted to him. In a few minutes he found Caliban the first part of my work. Great was my man, a man of high honour, superior talents, and many wards from my friends, a packet containing my manuvirtues, Andryane had become acquainted during their script, a quantity of blank slips, a little phial of red himself in the arms of Confalonieri. With this noble- surprise and emotion when I received two days afterformer sufferings in Italy. The count was in miser- liquid, and the following note from Pellico:-'Your able health, and great exertions had been made to interesting pages have made us shed tears: we thank procure his liberation, but in vain. He and Andryane you for their perusal. How great is the goodness of circumstance of their having been the two victims at friendship! Yours is a work inspired by Providence, first selected for the scaffold-a doom commuted to and you must finish it. So long as any blood remains in were more peculiarly attracted to one another by the God in allowing us the enlivening consolation of our imprisonment for life. The society of the count was my veins, I shall rejoice if you will employ it. I wish it productive of the deepest pleasure to the young could as well burn in a lamp, and enable you to devote Frenchman. They continued to correspond with more time to a composition, of which the beginning him. An ecclesiastic, named Paolowitz, arrived at In short, Silvio Pellico enabled his friend and fellow Spielberg, commissioned, as it afterwards proved, to sufferer to write, by yielding him the blood of his own Pellico, and after a time had the gratification of seeing has excited the most powerful interest in our hearts.'" keep up an espial on the prisoners. In the first in- ceins for ink! Andryane tried to extract blood from The scene which took place on the first occasion is guessed this, and obliged me to receive another phial, stance, however, he did them a good turn by procur- his own arm for the purpose, but he admits that his thus described by Andryane :-" At a given signal, all protesting that it should be the last. Does the poor ing them permission to attend the chapel on Sundays." constancy or his cleverness failed him. the state-prisoners came out into the corridor. This man, who shares all he possesses with one poorer than unexpected meeting, after so many months of separa- himself, do more in the eyes of God than my angelic tion, was a moment of happiness. They embraced friend, suffering and weak as he was, did for me?" and wept over each other: then all gathered round In justice to Andryane, it should be told that he Confalonieri, giving tokens of the truest affection and exclaimed against the repetition of this sacrifice. He towards the chapel. On crossing the platform, the health may suffer shocks my feelings. Do preserve in veneration. Thus surrounding him, we all advanced wrote to Pellico, saying, "The very idea that your ravages which captivity had made upon each became future your precious blood: I will not be the occasion How altered he is!' and with his finger he pointed to employ it worthily: and if God in his goodness strikingly visible. Ah, there is poor Pellico!' ex- of your losing one drop more. As to that which you claimed Borsieri, in a tone of fraternal fondness. have already sent, I will do every thing in my power out that Silvio, whom we all loved, and whose fea- permit that, in quitting Spielberg, I am able to save tures I was so desirous of contemplating. Never the pages I now write, I shall show them to every one did I gaze upon a countenance more sweet and yet as the most admirable proof of devotion and charity melancholy in its expression; never did features more that one captive ever received from another." accurately correspond with the picture of ingenuousness and angelic goodness I had preconceived in my the subject of still more severe treatment. The priest mind of the author of those letters which revealed Paolowitz, because he could not extract confessions in every line so many adorable qualities. His pallid from single individuals that would hurt their friends, Months, years, ran past, and the captives became forehead, chiseled in the noblest proportions-his eyes, represented them all as obstinate criminals to the his lips, from which never proceeded aught but toler- examinations as the following. A police director so full of tenderness and inspiration-the smile upon Austrian emperor. They were subjected to such their resignation, that I was ready to cry out, 'Silvio undress yourself. Undress myself, sir!--but it is ance and love, produced an impression so touching in closely examined their cell, and then said, "Now, do I behold thee at last? Silvio, I love thee, and very cold. The order is such,' he replied, drily. I would gladly give half the days of my life to clasp thee submit, sir,' and I took off my clothes: but that was in my arms! Most deeply did the sight of this cele- not enough; he required me to pull off my shoes and brated author of the Francesca da Rimini awaken my stockings, and even my shirt. I reddened, and feeling sympathy; and the thinness of his cheeks, the wanness of his complexion, augmented it. Too clearly did might not save me the mortification of remaining they indicate the effects which the rigours of long naked before the eyes of every one. It is the order? captivity had wrought upon a frame naturally deli-Since, then,' said I, sorrowfully, 'the cup of bitterness my patience going, I asked the director whether he cate." These Sunday sights of one another, for they were tives; but they were doomed to fresh misfortunes. but sights, gave much satisfaction to the poor capThe chief source of their consolation, the books which must be drained to the very dregs, it shall be done. 6 heart filled with indignation, while my whole person, and the coarse shirt that a beggar would not have worn, were passed in review. Is it over, sir?' I asked of the director, seeing myself no longer under inspection; and may I put on my clothes? Not yet-in a short time; only take your shirt.' What! am I te remain longer in this state of nakedness? It is the order; I cannot help it.' And saying this, he made a sign for the straw mattrass, counterpane, and clothes, to be carried out of the room, leaving me exposed to the damp and cold air of the dungeon, and to the gaze of all the bystanders. This noble exploit ended, the director made me a slight bow, and turned to Confalonieri, who was subjected to the same indignities as myself. He also, though suffering, was obliged to get up to yield his miserable couch, his convict clothing, and even his feeble body, to their examination. It was an afflicting spectacle to see the man I most loved and revered in the world, treated by these ruffians of the police like the worst malefactor: to see him stand with naked feet, stripped of every particle of dress, before these tools of arbitrary power, who neither respected his grey hair, blanched by sorrow and suffering, nor the infirmities consequent on his imprisonment, nor the noble dignity of his character. Yet this man, on whom they dared to lay their impure hands, endured the unworthy treatment with the most admirable patience. Not one word of discontent escaped his lips, no sign of contempt or of anger was depicted on his countenance." They were left in this state of nakedness till Confalonieri had almost perished. For being kind to the prisoners, the head keeper of the fortress, an old soldier named Schiller, was turned out of his place. The disgrace broke the aged warrior's heart. Andryane seized an opportunity to express his gratitude to Schiller. "Thanks, thanks!" said the other; "ere long I shall cease to want any thing in this world. I am hit here (striking his breast). If our emperor knew that you are a hundred times worse off than the greatest malefactors we have here, I am sure he would never permit that I should be punished for leaving you some pieces of bad paper and a few old quills. Yet God will not punish me for pitying my poor prisoners." Schiller seems to have done the Emperor of Austria too much justice here. Every point in the prison regulations was arranged by the monarch himself, and in the third year of the captivity of Andryane, the situation of things became much worse for him and his companions, through particular orders from Vienna. The jailors became more stern and vigilant, and daily inspections were made, of so rigorous a nature, that the captives were deprived of almost all the petty sources of amusement which they had at first possessed. For example, a small leather pillow had been allowed to lie on the pallet of the sick and suffering Confalonieri. It was peculiarly dear to him as the last and only souvenir which he possessed of his beloved wife, who, on her journey from Vienna to Milan, to see (as she believed) her husband's execution, had rested on that pillow her throbbing head, and bedewed it with her tears. It was taken from the count, his retention of it being an "infraction of the rules." A young sparrow had been caught by one of the captives, and he had tamed it and taught it to love him. It had become his chief consolation, but was taken away, as an "infraction of the rules." Again, the captives, though chained, could mount to their narrow loop-holes, and get partial glimpses of the face of nature. Some of them passed whole days in this occupation. Alas! they were not permitted to taste the enjoyment long. "I perceived several persons examining the bastion, and I shuddered at the idea that we should probably be the victims of some new persecution. Soon afterwards, the appearance of some masons, bringing bricks and scaffolding in great quantity, confirmed our apprehensions. The work was immediately begun; and during that day, and several others, we contemplated with increasing sadness the men who raised the wall of the parapet, and by degrees concealed the cheering landscape from our view. This barrier of stonework, which an evil genius seemed to have placed between us and nature as a warning that we were to renounce for ever the joys of this world, augmented our wretchedness fearfully, and the health of several of the prisoners sustained an irreparable shock. Confalonieri suffered more from it than any other." THE CONTRADICTORY COUPLE. 66 door of the wine-cellar!" "I mean to say," retorts the lady, beating time with her hair-brush on the palm of her hand, that in that house there are fourteen doors, "Well, then," cries the gentleman, rising and no more."' in despair, and pacing the room with rapid strides, "this is enough to destroy a man's intellect, and drive him mad!" By and bye the gentleman comes to a little, and passing his hand gloomily across his forehead, reseats himself in his former chair. There is a long silence, and this time the lady begins. "I appealed to Mr Jenkins, who sat next to me on the sofa in the drawing-room during tea." "Morgan, you surely mean," interrupts the gentleman. "I do not mean any thing of the kind," answers the lady. "Now, by all that is aggravating and impossible to bear," cries the gentleman, clenching his hands and looking upwards in agony," she is going to insist upon it that Morgan is Jenkins!" "Do you take me for a perfect fool?" exclaims the lady; "do you suppose I don't know the one from the other? Do you suppose I don't know that the man in the blue coat was Mr Jenkins ?" "Jenkins in a blue coat!" cries the gentleman, with a groan; "Jenkins in a blue coat!-a man who would suffer death rather than wear any thing but brown!" "Do you dare to charge me with telling an untruth?" demands the lady, bursting into tears. I charge you, ma'am," retorts the gentleman, starting up," with being a monster of contradiction, a monster of aggravation, a-a-a-Jenkins in a blue coat!-what have I done that I should be doomed to hear such statements ?"-Sketches of Young Couples THE EDIBLE BIRDS' NESTS OF CHINA. Not only in their ordinary form, or acted upon by the culinary art, are the mosses employed as food; but one of the most admired luxurics of the table in China is the edible birds' nest formed from them. A small swallow, called, from his peculiar instinct in building this sort of habitation, hirundo esculenta, makes his nest from several of these species, and amongst others, it is said, from the Ceylon moss, in the highest and most inaccessible rocks, in deep damp caves. Craufurd tells us that none but those accustomed from childhood to the dangers it offers, can pursue the occupation of collecting these nests; for they are only approachable by a perpendicular descent of many hundred feet, by ladders of bamboo and ratan, over a sea rolling violently against the rocks. When the mouth of the cave is attained, the perilous task of taking the nests must be performed by torchlight, by penetrating into the recesses of the rock, where the slightest slip would instantly be fatal to the adventurers, who can see nothing below them but the turbulent surf making its way into the chasms of the rocks. The high price given for these delicacies, is, however, a sufficient inducement for the gatherers to follow" this dreadful trade." The nests are formed of a mucilaginous substance; they resemble illconcocted fibrous isinglass, and are described as of a white colour, inclining to red; their thickness little more than that of a silver spoon, and the weight from a quarter to half an ounce. When dry, they are brittle and wrinkled, the size nearly that of a goose's egg. The qualities of the nest vary, according to the situation and extent of the caves in which they are found, and the time at which they are taken; if procured before the eggs have been laid, the nests are of the best kind; if they contain eggs only, they are still valuable; but if the young are in the nest, or have just left it, they are nearly worthless, being dark-coloured, streaked with blood, and intermixed with feathers and dirt. After they are procured, they are packed, and are then fit for market. The best sort are separated from feathers and dirt, are carefully dried and sent to Pekin, for the use of the emperor. The labour bestowed to render them fit for table is enormous; every feather, every stick, or impurity of any kind, is carefully removed, and then, after undergoing many washings and preparations, they are made into a soft delicious jelly; they are likewise served up in broths and soups; they have the reputation of being nutritious, and gently stimulating. The extravagant prices given for these nests by the Chinese render them a most expensive article of diet. The sale has become a monopoly of the government in whose dominions they are found. Meyen, in his Voyage discovered that these costly birds' nests are nothing more Round the World, states that the Japanese had long ago than softened sea-weed, and that they now prepare the substance itself in an artist-like manner.-Dr Sigmond on the Ceylon Moss. LADIES IN BARRACKS. The promising young lady, newfangled in her matrimonial reign, and by the royal duties thereto appending (the moon being over), is delighted to get into military quarters. I have seen one of these young things almost leaping out of her skin with joy upon her first entrée. This agreeable state of matters was, however, of short duration; she soon regretted her lately forsaken and peaceful haunts; when, instead of either leaping or dancThe subsequent details of this rigorous imprisoning for joy, she tamed down into a very languishing, slipment are of remarkable interest, and serve to throw shod housewife. She was married to a jolly ensign, of an instructive light on the nature of the Austrian whom, poor fellow, it might literally have been said that government. These details will be presented in a he was twice caught." Light marching order was not condensed form in our next publication. the order of his day; he travelled with a most respectable train of baggage. A pianoforte was on the list; for which his only room not being sufficiently capacious, the quartermaster's store received it, where the rats and mice played their duets and overtures upon it. Chests and trunks abundantly came in, so that the poor disciple, and the partner of his cares, were stowed away among the lumber, very much after the manner in which the steerage passengers are ensconced on board a packet just ready to sail for Van Dieman's Land. They had some pretty little birds in brass wire cages, and a green parrot to keep them from being alone. By and bye, the scene was changed, and other little birds were heard to sing; the piccaninnies began to show themselves, and were introduced into this sinful world much more rapidly than the finances of their parents justified; "the love they were so rich in" would by no means "make a fire in their kitchen;" for kitchen they had not, nor would the little god turn their spit. Fertile in expedients, the sex "I do believe," he says, taking the spoon out of his glass, and tossing it on the table," that of all the obstinate, positive, wrongheaded creatures that ever were born, you are the most so, Charlotte." "Certainly, certainly, have it your own way, pray. You see how much I contradict you," rejoins the lady. "Of course, you didn't contradict me at dinner-time-oh no, not you!" says the gentleman. "Yes, I did," says the lady. "Oh, you did!" cries the gentleman; "you admit that ?" If you call that contradiction, I do," the lady answers; "and I say again, Edward, that when I know you are wrong, I will contradict you. I am not your slave." "Not my slave!" repeats the gentleman, bitterly; "and you still mean to say that in the Blackburns' new house there are not more than fourteen doors, including the are never at a nonplus; bandboxes and parasols made way for canisters and rocking-chairs; bird-eages were dismissed for cradles; the washing-tub took precedence of the guitar; and as for the feathered songsters, they were all consigned to other lodgings; their places in the orchestra being occupied by a band of innocent squalBarrack ladies are, for the most part, very clever, linis. good hands at a dish of scandal now and then, as well as getting up a dish of mutton-chops. They, moreover, cultivate the gossiping propensities, for which there could not be a more eligible nursery. They are for ever sifting and prying into one another's business; and politics run so high at times that the interference of their lords and masters is resorted to in order to check the progress of a civil war. Woe betide the unlucky, though quiet youth, who may chance to be within the range of one of our musical amateurs; who produces a sensation as if she was hammering on his nerves, instead of on the keys of her piano: it is one tormenting strum, strum, strum, at the "Downfall of Paris," and "Fly not yet," when you would fly with eagles' wings to the antipodes. I was at one time vis-à-vis to such another lovely cantatrice, who harped alternately on "Drink to me only with thine eyes," and "From night till morn I take my glass;" her face, meanwhile, resembling the full moon in a gale, and bearing the roseate hue of wine, was a faithful illustration of her song.-Major Patterson's Gamp and Quar ters. THE FIRST SWALLOW. BY THOMAS SMIBERT. White-throated herald of the coming May, It joys me much to see thee here again! Once more shalt thou, sweet bird, at dawn of day, Chase my dull slumbers with thy cheerful strain ; Thy parent-labours, at my window-pane, With placid morning thoughts my breast shall fill, And I shall quit my bed, Full-fraught in heart and head With soothing trust in God, and unto all good-will. Who can behold the nicest art and care, With which thou labourest thy little home, Nor think of Him, whose hand is written thereEv'n on thy tiny edifice of loam As visibly as on the vast air-dome! In toils alike and glee, Nor yearn with deeper lovingness for all his kind! To some more sunny land, And make your span of life one long bright summer's day? Sweet page, that holdest up the skirts of spring!— Or dark secluded nook, Have been thy ways, thou pilgrim of the sky, Though questioned long by man's deep searching eye, That when the chill winds press, Gladly I welcome thee, come whence thou may;- Hath from the deep awakened thee to day, I love thee, and with joy will watch anew Ere from their beauteous shells thy young step forth to view. Thy comings and thy goings both are sure: With meekness to the blow, LONDON: Published, with permission of the proprietors, by W.9. ORR, Paternoster Row; and sold by all booksellers and newsmen.-Printed by Bradbury and Evans, Whitefriars. Complete sets of the Journal are always to be had from the publishers or their agents; also, any odd numbers to complete sets. Persons requiring their volumes bound along with titlepages and contents, have only to give them into the hands of any bokseller, with orders to that effect. OURNAL CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS, EDITORS OF CHAMBER: "CHAMBERS'S EDUCATIONAL COURSE, NUMBER 437. EYE HINTS. Ir is remarkable how small a peculiarity in form, posture, or arrangement, suffices to give us a general idea of an entire object, and not only of that, but of many things and conditions relative to it. In a popular book of travels we are presented with a plate, representing the lower part of a pair of limbs projected through a window into the open air; and from that fragment of a gentleman, we can in an instant form an idea of the attitude, bodily and mental, of the whole man. He is a jolly Carolinian, sitting on a SATURDAY, JUNE 13, 1840. tude made him fussily eager to help the lady where rocking-chair, smoking his pipe, and conscious of no-world, when a lady and gentleman are seen walking thing but the pleasant sensations which follow a good together, if you observe in the latter an air of undue There, within a window through which one can see a human figure. Very frequently the object seen is to the light to read the newspapers. One just catches a bald crown, below that some short grey hair, and below that again some very red layers of neck. No thing else is needed. It is a country gentleman of course; one who has been familiar with good port for half a century. Being now temporarily in town, he has called to have his daily spell of the Post or Chronicle, as it may be. Such an object is at once recog nised as characteristic of the place, and quite suitable to it. And though the whole man were standing be fore one, one could not see him more palpably. The least hint, indeed, suffices. Hence it is quite possible, in casting one's eye along a crowded street, to point out all the proud people within a quarter of a mile, at least all those who are walking away from the position of the spectator. Mark where you .see much of the crown of a hat. Wherever that is the case, and the individual is receding, you have a proud man; for, in walking, such men throw back the head, and that enables any one behind to see a good deal of the crown. On the other hand, when much of the crown of an approaching hat is seen, the probability is, that the owner is a studious, or bashful man, or one who feels that he has little reason to expect much courteous regard from his fellow-men. One only source of fallacy besets our outlook for proud men. There are a few old gentlemen, very generally belonging to one of the learned professions, who, in consequence of sedentary life, and through other causes, have become very corpulent in front; by reason of which peculiarity, they are obliged to keep their heads pretty well back. It is just possible that a crown of a hat brought much into view behind, may belong to some such person. This, however, is only an exception from a rule which will generally be found to hold good. tated to they are The human fig. feet. Now, supp dering on some weirframes. our only commanding the dinner. We are often reminded of this whimsical solicitude about his companion; if he inclines much engraving, as we daily pass one of the club-houses. other hand, looks a little flurried and frivolous, and character of those who might n from the street, is generally to be seen some snatch of appears far more interested about the way her reticule would not be merely the old story of Y the back part of a head, the owner of which has come these are unmarried parties. But if the gentleman dition of individuals might be predates fro hangs than there is any occasion for; then know that eules from a large foot, but mary of -77.. and lady walk on quietly arm in arm together, both small portion of the figure. For exam fres quite upright, and just behaving as a lady and gentle a pair of feet come up, ensconced within a 1. Iman in their sober senses ought to do, then believe made and nicely brushed pair of boots, with that these persons are married; for now, with both, tapering heels, pointed toes, and blue they all anxiety is past, the days of frivolity and fuss, have braided seams, neatly cut and strapped so as to ay 7-y been succeeded by a lady-and-gentlemanlike style of very exactly to the boots, you could entertain no d happiness, and all is contentment and peace. that the owner of these said feet was some offer of If you observe a pair, who are obviously from such ap- the dragoon regiment lying in the barracks, an inde pearances inarried, entering their dwelling, and should fatigable forenoon promenader, a haunter of all posyou wish to know whether they have any children, sible balls, and a decided lady-killer. Suppose you cast a glance at the windows; and if you see a little next observed a pair, sunk in loose-mouthed shoes dog sitting wagging his tail at one, and a macaw tied with thongs, and connected with a pair of thin chattering on his beam at another, you will be safest legs, wearing black worsted stockings, and of which to conclude in the negative. But should you perceive even the four inches exposed to view manifest an no such objects, not even a few flower-pots on the inclination forwards of at least ten degrees, you could balcony at the drawing-room windows, and, looking not doubt that you saw the basement of an old man a little higher, see two windows with wooden bars who acts in some such capacity as that of verger, across them, you may be as sure there are children in or a winder-up of city clocks, or a recorder of mor the case, as if you saw the chubby rogues staring tality, and the rest of whose habiliments consist of through the panes, or heard their merry shout as a rusty black coat of antique wideness of sweep, a papa and mamma enter. deep vest, and a pair of equally black and rusty nondescripts, tied with black worsted tape at the knee. Suddenly come upon you a pair of something in white silk stockings and pale-coloured jane boots, with a very small vision of ankle above, and then the bottom of a silk pelisse: you know in a moment from the twitter of those pretty feet, their cut and dress, and the light yet firm hold which they take of the ground, that the owner is a decidedly smart young lady, whom the officer before mentioned surveyed very critically a minute ago as he passed, and whom he intends to have another peep of, by turning round at the end of the street, and meeting her on his return. What varieties of people there are in the world! The next pair of feet exhibit dimly blacked shoes, black spatterdashes, and the bottom of a pair of unstrapped rusty black trousers: reader, do you require to be told that this is the modest-looking man who acts as a private tutor three doors off? Next come a pair of stumping boots, very much splashed, evidently not made by Hoby, thick in sole and low in heel, having strapped spurs attached, and a considerable many folds about the ankles: your seeing the remaining ten-elevenths of this man could not more effectually assure you of an honest farmer who has just ridden in from the country to attend market. The boots stop and give a turn round: the man is looking for some shop, where he was commissioned to buy something by his wife or daughters. A pair of large lightcoloured snow-boots, which next succeed (the season not being winter), and which come heavily but not slowly marching along, with a skirt of bombazette or some such stuff sweeping round them, is detected in an instant as the foundation of a fat When a lady and gentleman are seen walking together, no person of average acuteness of intellect can be at a loss to distinguish whether they are married persons or not. There is a well-known pair of prints, common in wayside country houses, professing to represent Courtship and Matrimony. In " Courtship," a gentleman is seen displaying great attention to a lady, in helping her over a stile, which she seems at ro loss to mount unassisted. In "Matrimony," the same lady is seen attempting with some difficulty to get over the same stile, while the gentleman, already past, is walking coolly and unheedingly on in front. The design of this print has always appeared to us a shameful libel on matrimony. We truly believe the conduct of the gentleman to be capable of explanation. The thing is this. In the first print, he was full of solicitude and anxiety, as all persons who have not the good fortune to be married must be; and this solici The world is familiar with the story of the physician who concluded that his patient had been eating oysters from seeing some shells of that species of the testacea under the bed, and how finely this surmise was commented on by his apprentice, who, going to another patient, and observing a saddle under the bed, came home and reported that the man must have lately eaten a horse. In the case of the oysters, it must be owned that possibly the patient had not been eating any such thing; yet a strict regard to the principles of reasoning obliges us to believe that it was much more likely that oysters had been gobbled in the one case, than that a courser had been bolted in the other. To be very candid, there might be some rashness in the physician's conclusion. The oysters might have been eaten by some other member of the family. Yet, after all, it was not unlikely that they had formed a regale to the patient himself. We know very well that from similar evidence conclusions are come to every day in the world. Old Mr Towser, of a certain town in the west of England, had a large dog remarkably like himself, and which was intimately associated by every body with the idea of his own figure. Whenever this animal was seen at the door of the Bridgewater, did any passer by ever presume to doubt that Mr Towser was sitting in his ordinary seat at the bar fireside, taking his glass of brandy and water? Convictions from such symptoms come upon one intuitively, and are irresistible. Supposing that Mr Towser had been accused of having committed a murder about the same hour when his dog was seen at the door of the Bridgewater, scarcely any one, out of all who had seen the animal there, could have hesi |