specie. Lights are continually kept burning there, and two statues representing grenadiers, one at the head and one at the foot of the tomb, lean with their cheeks reclining upon the butts of their reversed musquets. Martine was possessed of a very active and enterprising genius, and a strong and liberal mind; if we are to credit report, he was far from narrow or avaricious, although he accumulated immense wealth. He traded and speculated in every possible way, but with so much judgment and knowledge of his subject, that he seldom failed of success. He was perfect master of the nature and rates of exchanges throughout the country, and united in large transactions of that description the shroffs and moneyed men in various quarters. He was an excellent judge of jewels; and extraordinary stories are related of the sagacity he displayed in his dealings in this line, and the great profits he acquired by them. There was nothing he failed of turning to account; and he was wont himself to declare, that were he turned adrift on the world without a shilling at the age of sixty, he would not despair of dying rich, if it pleased God to prolong his life to the usual age of man. Neither the amount nor disposition of his wealth, I believe, is accurately known; the former was, however, certainly very great, and the latter partook a good deal of the eccentricity of the owner's character. About fifty thousand pounds were left to his native city; and he directed that the house of Constantia should be kept continually in repair, and that such strangers as should arrive at Lucnow unprovided with other quarters, should have the option of residing there for one month; or longer if not claimed by fresh arrivals. For this purpose, thirty thousand rupees annually are appropriated, and the expenditure of them was entrusted to a person of Portuguese family in the king's service. Martine left one son, born of a Native woman, to whom, though I never heard any thing amiss suspected, his father, by some strange inconsistency, left but the paltry allowance of one hundred rupees a month. Constantia is a vast pile, situated on the banks of the Ghoomtee, overlooking a rich well-cultivated country, and in an extensive inclosure, well wooded with mango and other fruit-trees. Upon the portico of entrance may be seen the motto of the General, “Patientia et Constantia," to the spirit of which he fully conformed in his life. The building consists of a main body, and two wings rising in many stories of very fanciful architecture to a great height, and diminishing gradually to a fantastic look-out, resembling at a distance, the crownlike steeples of some old churches, upon which is erected a flag-staff. The walls of the wings, and of each story in the main building, are balustraded, and surmounted with gigantic statues representing human beings and animals, in such multitudes that they appear to cover the whole upper part of the building with a fringe of filagree work, and thus produce a very singular effect. These statues, cast in clay, and painted, mimic almost every living thing to be found on earth. Among them may be discovered copies of the most celebrated statues of antiquity, figures of men and women in the costumes of almost every country, with birds and animals of all sorts: and the arrangement of them is at least as bizarre as the quantity is confounding. A Venus de Medicis, an Antinoüs, or a Mercury, may be seen close to a Dutch dairymaid churning butter, a burgomaster, or a Swiss peasant; or a French petit-maître, exchanging civilities with a Chinese mandarin, or a solemn brahmin. Yet the effect, though ludicrous, is not so offensive as might be supposed. Grandeur is indeed lost, but amusement and interest remain. It is after the rainy season that these groups cut an unhappy figure: the materials of which they are composed not being of a description to support moisture, they become miserably injured; legs, arms, and heads drop off, the paint is washed away, and the whole assumes a very curious appearance, until the annual repairs take place, after which the statues recover their lost limbs, and the mansion resumes its gay dress. The ground floor of this building is calculated for coolness; the apartments are lofty and spacious; the floor is of marble; the high vaulted roof is fretted and adorned with cameo medallions, of white upon a blue ground: the walls are adorned with gold and silver work, mingled with various colours, in a rich and fanciful though somewhat tawdry style. There seems no end to the succession of chambers, small and great, of every form, and as variously fitted up, some with orchestra as for musicians, others with galleries all round. The second story is less lofty, but contains several apartments fitted up with fireplaces or stoves for the cold season, and more calculated for comfort; the major part is, however, divided into a wonderful number of multiform chambers, communicating with each other in extraordinary ways; and all carved, fretted, and painted like those below. The third story is in the same taste, but contains wer rooms; and a succession of narrow staircases and ladders lead first to the balconies and terraced roofs, and thence to the lofty look-out above all. The whole building is calculated to facilitate defence, and prevent surprises in case of attack in an insecure country, without carrying the appearance of a formal fortification: it is fire-proof, not having a piece of wood used in its whole construction; the roofs are all vaulted, and the doors and window-shutters are of iron. There is no grand staircase; a defect both in appearance and in convenience; but a vast additional means of security, for, the only means of communication between the stories being by narrow spiral staircases, a single man could defend them against an army. Many of the passages from one apartment to another have been made thus poor and narrow upon the same principle; and there are multitudes of secret places for concealment, formed in the thickness of the walls and in the corners of the house. It is indeed a place quite unique in its kind, and the grounds, considering the country, are almost as singularly laid out. A large garden in the old French taste, divided into numerous alleys, bordered with trees cut into various fantastic forms, stretches behind it; while in front has been excavated a large oval tank, in the centre of which rises a pillar more than one hundred feet in height, erected by direction and according to the plan left by the late General Martine, which serves as his monument. VOL. IX. No. 49.-1825. LONDON LYRICS. Christmas out of Town. FOR many a winter in Billiter-lane My wife, Mrs. Brown, was not heard to complain; On beef and plum-pudding, and turkey and chine. Our register-stoves, and our crimson-baized doors, In Billiter-lane, at this mirth-moving time, We carved a twelfth cake, and we drew king and queen; 'Twas all very well for a cockney or clown, But nobody now spends his Christmas in Town. At Brighton I'm stuck up in Donaldson's shop, In gallop the winds, at the full of the moon, The Duke and the Earl are no cronies of mine, INSUBORDINATION OF MODERN STOMACHS. If little faults, proceeding on distemper, Shall not be wink'd at, how shall we stretch our eye When capital crimes, chewed, swallow'd and digested, Appear? SHAKSPEARE. "SIR," said Dr. Longwind, beginning one of his usual periods with more than his customary pomposity, "No one can develope the inscrutable affinities which connect the moral and physical world, occasioning them perpetually to act and re-act upon one another: how do you explain, you who pretend to explain every thing, the mysterious union of mind and matter, whereby "That is a matter which I have no mind to investigate," cried Mr. Snapton, interrupting him, "though I have no objection to attempt it, if you will expound the connexion between volition and muscular action, and tell me why, if I had a wish to tweak you by the nose, my finger and thumb would instantly prepare themselves for the execution of my purpose."-" Sir !" exclaimed the Doctor, drawing back his nose to a safe distance, "this is an illustration which I do not understand." "If I am only to talk of what you understand," cried Mr. Snapton tartly, "I shall not often be reproached with loquacity."-" Sir," resumed the Doctor, bristling with offended dignity, "your observation is rude without being witty.""Then it has nothing but its truth to distinguish it from yours," retorted Mr. Snapton. Now came the supercilious leer, The scornful gibe, the taunting jeer, Such as Psha! Stuff and nonsense! Pooh! "You set the matter right? what you!" "You ought," the other cries, "I own't; And talk themselves into a passion." Without participating in the irritable Mr. Snapton's amazement, we may be allowed to remark, that there is a more intimate sympathy between body and mind than is generally apprehended, and that our pathologists might do more good, in some instances, by considering the mental than the corporeal pulsations. We know that an impression received through the eye, may occasion such a sudden nausea as to reverse the whole economy of nature; but we do not sufficiently consider that the system may be equally deranged, without the external interference of the senses, by the invisible operation of the mind. This effect will of course be more sensibly felt in the immediate head-quarters of the intellectual faculty, than in the remoter parts; and in order that we may direct our attention to the proper region, it is necessary to apprise our physiological readers, and the medical world in general, that the stomach, and not the head, is unquestionably the seat of thought in the human subject. Whatever may be our merit in having confirmed this fact, we do not by any means claim it as a discovery. Buffon long ago asserted the same thing, Persius had already dubbed the stomach a master of arts, and in spite of the craniologists, who look for the developement of the disposition in bumps upon the skull, and of the physiognomists, who seek the same thing in the visage, it is observable that in our proverbs and colloquial phrases, which may be termed the concentrated wisdom of nations, the defrauded stomach asserts its superiority, and is universally treated as the depository of reason and our intellectual citadel. What should we say of a people who should establish their capital upon an extreme frontier, instead of the centre and heart of the country, and why should we suppose nature to be less provident in this respect than men? We admit all the affections of our nature to emanate from the heart, which is coming very near to the stomach, and consequently to the truth; while we absurdly give the head credit for the higher exercises of an intellectual faculty, which we do not by any means admit in our vulgar parlance. The truth of the phrase may, perhaps, be hardly deemed a sufficient excuse for its coarseness when the common people familiarly say of a stupid fellow, that he has "no guts in his brains," yet it may be defended as a shrewd, sound, and pertinent expression, spite of its cacophony to fastidious ears polite. Nay, do not they who even affect purism in their discourse, almost unconsciously assign all our emotions to the intestinal region, when they habitually say of a coward, that he has no stomach for fighting, and of themselves when any thing lingers unpleasantly in their recollection, that it sticks in their stomach? and have they not warrant of authority from our best authors for making this important ventricle the organ of almost every human affection? Spenser could even read the expression of a man's stomach in his face-" Stern was his look, and full of stomach;" Shakspeare, wishing to give an idea of Wolsey's ambitious mind, tells us that he was a man "of an unbounded stomach;" and speaking elsewhere of two pugnacious adversaries, he exclaims, "High-stomach'd are they both and full of ire," whence in all probability arose our term of belly-gerent powers, applied to parties in a state of hostility. Butler talks of the trumpet and drum, "That makes the warriors stomach come," thus using the word as synonymous with courage; and, in this figurative sense, it is obvious that the sick Hibernian perpetrated no bull when he consented to have a blister put upon his back, although, as he said, "it went quite against his stomach." Do we not currently say of a person deficient in compassion, that he has no bowels? and when we sympathise with others in distress, is it not customary to make use of a very sensible phrase, and exclaim that our bowels yearn towards them? When we have laid our spirit in the Red Sea, or, in other words, when we have drowned our stomach, and consequently our reason, in Burgundy, we adapt ourselves to a vulgar error, and declare that the wine has got up into our heads, whereas it is notorious that it has gone down into the intestines. Such are the absurdities to which we are driven in our attempts to bolster up a preposterous and untenable system. In the good old republican times of Rome, we know that the limbs rebelled against the belly, which |