The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 12, No. 336, October 18, 1828

In this plight was he found by May, the most high-blooded and aristocratic of greyhounds; and from this plight did May rescue him;– invited him into her territory, the stable; resisted all attempts to turn him out; reinstated him there, in spite of maid, and boy, and mistress, and master; wore out every body's opposition, by the activity of her protection, and the pertinacity of her self-will; made him sharer of her bed and her mess; and, finally, established him as one of the family as firmly as herself.

Dash—for he has even won himself a name amongst us, before he was anonymous—Dash is a sort of a kind of a spaniel; at least there is in his mongrel composition some sign of that beautiful race. Besides his ugliness, which is of the worst sort—that is to say, the shabbiest—he has a limp on one leg that gives a peculiarly one-sided awkwardness to his gait; but, independently of his great merit in being May's pet, he has other merits which serve to account for that phenomenon—being, beyond all comparison the most faithful, attached, and affectionate animal that I have ever known; and that is saying much. He seems to think it necessary to atone for his ugliness by extra good conduct, and does so dance on his lame leg, and so wag his scrubby tail, that it does any one, who has a taste for happiness, good to look at him—so that he may now be said to stand on his own footing. We are all rather ashamed of him when strangers come in the way, and think it necessary to explain that he is May's pet; but amongst ourselves, and those who are used to his appearance, he has reached the point of favouritism in his own person. I have, in common with wiser women, the feminine weakness of loving whatever loves me—and, therefore, like Dash. His master has found out that Dash is a capital finder, and, in spite of his lameness, will hunt a field, or beat a cover with any spaniel in England—and, therefore, he likes Dash. The boy has fought a battle, in defence of his beauty, with another boy, bigger than himself, and beat his opponent most handsomely— and, therefore, he likes Dash; and the maids like him, or pretend to like him, because we do—as is the fashion of that pliant and imitative class. And now Dash and May follow us every where, and are going with us now to the Shaw, or rather to the cottage by the Shaw, to bespeak milk and butter of our little dairy-woman, Hannah Bint—a housewifely occupation, to which we owe some of our pleasantest rambles—Miss Mitford.—Month. Mag.

FROM THE ROMAICWhen we were last, my gentle Maid,In love's embraces twining,'Twas Night, who saw, and then betray'd!"Who saw?" Yon Moon was shining.A gossip Star shot down, and heFirst told our secret to the Sea.The Sea, who never secret kept,The peevish, blustering railer!Told it the Oar, as on he swept;The Oar informed the Sailor.The Sailor whisper'd it to his fair,And she—she told it every where!

New Monthly Magazine.

NOTES OF A READER

EELS

The problem of the generation of eels is one of the most abstruse and curious in natural history; but we have been much pleased, and not a little enlightened, by some observations on the subject in Sir Humphrey Davy's delightful little volume, Salmonia, of which the following is the substance:—

Although the generation of eels occupied the attention of Aristotle, and has been taken up by the most distinguished naturalists since his time, it is still unsolved. Lacepède, the French naturalist, asserts, in the most unqualified way, that they are viviparous; but we do not remember any facts brought forward on the subject. Sir Humphrey then goes on to say—This is certain, that there are two migrations of eels—one up and one down rivers, one from and the other to the sea; the first in spring and summer, the second in autumn or early winter. The first of very small eels, which are sometimes not more than two or two and a half inches long; the second of large eels, which sometimes are three or four feet long, and which weigh from 10 to 15, or even 20 lbs. There is great reason to believe that all eels found in fresh water are the results of the first migration; they appear in millions in April and May, and sometimes continue to rise as late even as July and the beginning of August. I remember this was the case in Ireland in 1823. It had been a cold, backward summer; and when I was at Ballyshannon, about the end of July, the mouth of the river, which had been in flood all this month, under the fall, was blackened by millions of little eels, about as long as the finger, which were constantly urging their way up the moist rocks by the side of the fall. Thousands died, but their bodies remaining moist, served as the ladder for others to make their way; and I saw some ascending even perpendicular stones, making their road through wet moss, or adhering to some eels that had died in the attempt. Such is the energy of these little animals, that they continue to find their way, in immense numbers, to Loch Erne. The same thing happens at the fall of the Bann, and Loch Neagh is thus peopled by them; even the mighty Fall of Shaffausen does not prevent them from making their way to the Lake of Constance, where I have seen many very large eels. There are eels in the Lake of Neufchatel, which communicates by a stream with the Rhine; but there are none in the Lake of Geneva, because the Rhone makes a subterraneous fall below Geneva; and though small eels can pass by moss or mount rocks, they cannot penetrate limestone rocks, or move against a rapid descending current of water, passing, as it were, through a pipe. Again: no eels mount the Danube from the Black Sea; and there are none found in the great extent of lakes, swamps, and rivers communicating with the Danube—though some of these lakes and morasses are wonderfully fitted for them, and though they are found abundantly in the same countries, in lakes and rivers connected with the ocean and the Mediterranean. Yet, when brought into confined water in the Danube, they fatten and thrive there. As to the instinct which leads young eels to seek fresh water, it is difficult to reason; probably they prefer warmth, and, swimming at the surface in the early summer, find the lighter water warmer, and likewise containing more insects, and so pursue the courses of fresh water, as the waters from the land, at this season, become warmer than those from the sea. Mr. J. Couch, in the Linnaean Transactions, says the little eels, according to his observation, are produced within reach of the tide, and climb round falls to reach fresh water from the sea. I have sometimes seen them in spring, swimming in immense shoals in the Atlantic, in Mount Bay, making their way to the mouths of small brooks and rivers. When the cold water from the autumnal flood begins to swell the rivers, this fish tries to return to the sea; but numbers of the smaller ones hide themselves during the winter in the mud, and many of them form, as it were, masses together. Various authors have recorded the migration of eels in a singular way; such as Dr. Plot, who, in his History of Staffordshire, says they pass in the night across meadows from one pond to another; and Mr. Arderon, in the Philosophical Transactions, gives a distinct account of small eels rising up the flood-gates and posts of the water-works of the city of Norwich; and they made their way to the water above, though the boards were smooth planed, and five or six feet perpendicular. He says, when they first rose out of the water upon the dry board, they rested a little—which seemed to be till their slime was thrown out, and sufficiently glutinous—and then they rose up the perpendicular ascent with the same facility as if they had been moving on a plane surface.—There can, I think, be no doubt that they are assisted by their small scales, which, placed like those of serpents, must facilitate their progressive motion; these scales have been microscopically observed by Lewenhoeck. Eels migrate from the salt water of different sizes, but I believe never when they are above a foot long—and the great mass of them are only from two and a half to four inches. They feed, grow, and fatten in fresh water. In small rivers they seldom become very large; but in large, deep lakes they become as thick as a man's arm, or even leg; and all those of a considerable size attempt to return to the sea in October or November, probably when they experience the cold of the first autumnal rains. Those that are not of the largest size, as I said before, pass the winter in the deepest parts of the mud of rivers and lakes, and do not seem to eat much, and remain, I believe, almost torpid. Their increase is not certainly known in any given time, but must depend upon the quantity of their food; but it is probable they do not become of the largest size from the smallest in one or even two seasons; but this, as well as many other particulars, can only be ascertained by new observations and experiments. Block states, that they grow slowly, and mentions that some had been kept in the same pond for fifteen years. As very large eels, after having migrated, never return to the river again, they must (for it cannot be supposed that they all die immediately in the sea) remain in salt water; and there is great probability that they are then confounded with the conger, which is found from a few ounces to one hundred pounds in weight.

At Munich, every child found begging is taken to a charitable establishment; the moment he enters his portrait is given to him, representing him in his rags, and he promises by oath to keep it all his life.

INFANCY

[This is one of the gems of the quarto volume of poetry recently published by the author of the "Omnipresence of the Deity;" but in our next we intend stringing together a few of the resplendent beauties which illumine almost every page.]

On yonder mead, that like a windless lakeShines in the glow of heaven, a cherub boyIs bounding, playful as a breeze new-born,Light as the beam that dances by his side.Phantom of beauty! with his trepid locksGleaming like water-wreaths,—a flower of life,To whom the fairy world is fresh, the skyA glory, and the earth one huge delight!Joy shaped his brow, and Pleasure rolls his eye,While Innocence, from out the budding lipDarts her young smiles along his rounded cheek.Grief hath not dimm'd the brightness of his form,Love and Affection o'er him spread their wings,And Nature, like a nurse, attends him withHer sweetest looks. The humming bee will boundFrom out the flower, nor sting his baby hand;The birds sing to him from the sunny tree;And suppliantly the fierce-eyed mastiff fawnBeneath his feet, to court the playful touch.To rise all rosy from the arms of sleep,And, like the sky-bird, hail the bright-cheek'd mornWith gleeful song, then o'er the bladed meadTo chase the blue-wing'd butterfly, or playWith curly streams; or, led by watchful Love,To hear the chorus of the trooping waves,When the young breezes laugh them into life!Or listen to the mimic ocean roarWithin the womb of spiry sea-shell wove,—From sight and sound to catch intense delight,And infant gladness from each happy face,—These are the guileless duties of the day:And when at length reposeful Evening comes,Joy-worn he nestles in the welcome couch,With kisses warm upon his cheek, to dreamOf heaven, till morning wakes him to the world.The scene hath changed into a curtain'd room,Where mournful glimmers of the mellow sunLie dreaming on the walls! Dim-eyed and sad,And dumb with agony, two parents bendO'er a pale image, in the coffin laid,—Their infant once, the laughing, leaping boy,The paragon and nursling of their souls!Death touch'd him, and the life-glow fled away,Swift as a gay hour's fancy; fresh and coldAs winter's shadow, with his eye-lids seal'd,Like violet-lips at eve, he lies enrobedAn offering to the grave! but, pure as whenIt wing'd from heaven, his spirit hath return'd,To lisp his hallelujahs with the choirsOf sinless babes, imparadised above.

Death, a Poem, by R. Montgomery.

THE ZOOLOGICAL SOCIETYWhat a fashionable placeSoon the Regent's Park will grow!Not alone the human raceTo survey its beauties go;Birds and beasts of every hue,In order and sobriety,Come, invited by the Zo-Ological Society.Notes of invitation goTo the west and to the east.Begging of the Hippopo-Tamus here to come and feast:Sheep and panthers here we view,Monstrous contrariety!All united by the Zo-Ological Society.Monkeys leave their native seat,Monkeys green and monkeys blue,Other monkeys here to meet,And kindly ask, "Pray how d'ye do?"From New Holland the emu,With his better moiety,Has paid a visit to the Zo-Ological Society.Here we see the lazy tor-Toise creeping with his shell,And the drowsy, drowsy dor-Mouse dreaming in his cell;Here from all parts of the U-Niverse we meet variety,Lodged and boarded by the Zo-Ological Society.Bears at pleasure lounge and roll,Leading lives devoid of pain,Half day climbing up a poll,Half day climbing down again;Their minds tormented by no su-Perfluous anxiety,While on good terms with the Zo-Ological Society.Would a mammoth could be foundAnd made across the sea to swim!But now, alas! upon the groundThe bones alone are left of him:I fear a hungry mammoth too,(So monstrous and unquiet he.)By hunger urged might eat the Zo-Ological Society!

The Christmas Box.

INSECTS

One great protection against all creeping things is, to stir the ground very frequently along the foot of the wall. That is their great place of resort; and frequent stirring and making the ground very fine, disturbs the peace of their numerous families, gives them trouble, makes them uneasy, and finally harasses them to death.

Cobbett's English Gardener.

SIR W. TEMPLE'S GARDEN

It was formerly the fashion to have a sort of canal, with broad grass walks on the sides, and with the water coming up to within a few inches of the closely shaven grass; and certainly few things were more beautiful than these. Sir William Temple had one of his own constructing in his gardens at Moor Park. On the outsides of the grass-walks were borders of beautiful flowers. I have stood for hours to look at this canal, which the good-natured manners of those days had led the proprietor to make an opening in the outer wall in order that his neighbours might enjoy the sight as well as himself; I have stood for hours, when a little boy, looking at this object; I have travelled far since, and have seen a great deal; but I have never seen any thing of the gardening kind so beautiful in the whole course of my life—Ibid.

BULBOUS ROOTS

In glasses filled with water, bulbous roots, such as the hyacinth, narcissus, and jonquil, are blown. The time to put them in is from September to November, and the earliest ones will begin blowing about Christmas. The glasses should be blue, as that colour best suits the roots; put water enough in to cover the bulb one-third of the way up, less rather than more; let the water be soft, change it once a week, and put in a pinch of salt every time you change it. Keep the glasses in a place moderately warm, and near to the light. A parlour window is a very common place for them, but is often too warm, and brings on the plants too early, and causes them to be weakly.—Ibid.

TRAVELLING INVALIDS

We cannot refrain from stating our belief, and this on the authority of intelligent physicians, as well as from personal observation, that much mischief is done by committing invalids to long and precarious journeys, for the sake of doubtful benefits. We have ourselves seen consumptive patients hurried along, through all the discomforts of bad roads, bad inns, and indifferent diet, to places, where certain partial advantages of climate poorly compensated for the loss of the many benefits which home and domestic care can best afford. We have seen such invalids lodged in cold, half-furnished houses, and shivering under blasts of wind from the Alps or Apennines, who might more happily have been sheltered in the vales of Somerset or Devon. On this topic, however, we refrain from saying more—further than to state our belief, that much misapprehension generally prevails, as to the comparative healthiness of England, and other parts of Europe. Certain phrases respecting climate have obtained fashionable currency amongst us, which greatly mislead the judgment as to facts. The accurate statistical tables, now extended to the greater part of Europe, furnish more secure grounds of opinion; and from these we derive the knowledge, that there is no one country in Europe where the average proportion of mortality is so small as in England. Some few details on this subject we subjoin,—tempted to do so by the common errors prevailing in relation to it.

The proportion of deaths to the population is nearly one-third less in England than in France. Comparing the two capitals, the average mortality of London is about one-fifth less than that of Paris. What may appear a more singular statement, the proportion of deaths in London, a vast and luxurious metropolis, differs only by a small fraction from that of the whole of France; and is considerably less than the average of those Mediterranean shores which are especially frequented by invalids for the sake of health. In Italy, the proportion of deaths is a full third greater than in England; and even in Switzerland and Sweden, though the difference be less, it is still in favour of our own country.—Q. Rev.

NEWSPAPER LOVE

The paper so highly esteemed, entitled, The Courier de l'Europe, originated in the following circumstances:—

"Monsieur Guerrier de Berance was a native of Auvergne, whose fortune in the origin was very low, but who by his intrigues succeeded in gaining the place of Procureur General of the Custom-house. He married two wives; the name of the last was Millochin, who was both young and handsome. She soon began to find out that her husband was very disagreeable; and what caused her more particularly to remark his faults was her contrasting him with M. Cevres de la Tour, with whom she fell most desperately in love. This passion became so violent, that Madame Guerrier fled into England with her lover, who, in his turn, left his wife behind him in Paris. The finances of these two lovers growing rather low, M. Sevres de la Tour, who was a man of talent, thought, as a plan to enrich himself, to turn editor to a newspaper, and for this purpose started the Courier de l'Europe, which succeeded beyond his most sanguine hopes. Disgust, which commonly follows these sort of unions, caused Madame Guerrier to be deserted by her lover, and she was obliged to turn a teacher of languages for her subsistence.—The Album of Love.

THE GATHERER

"A snapper-up of unconsidered trifles."SHAKSPEAREREPLY TO THE DIRGE ON MISS ELLEN GEE, OF KEW

(See Mirror, page 223.)

Forgive, ye beauteous maids of Q,The much relenting B,Who vows he never will sting U,While sipping of your T.One nymph I wounded in the I,The charming L N G,The fates impell'd, I know not Y,The luckless busy B.And oh recall the sentence UPass'd on your humble B,Let me remain at happy Q,Send me not o'er the C.And I will mourn upon A U,The death of L N G,And all the charming maids of QWill pity the poor B.I will hum soft her L E G,The reason some ask Y,Because the maiden could not C,By me she lost her I.To soothe ye damsels I'll S A,Far sooner would I BMyself in funeral R A,Than wound one fair at T.F.HTHE BITER BIT

In the reign of Charles II. a physician to the court was walking with the king in the gallery of Windsor Castle, when they saw a man repairing a clock fixed there. The physician knowing the king's relish for a joke, accosted the man with, "My good friend, you are continually doctoring that clock, and yet it never goes well. Now if I were to treat my patients in such a way, I should lose all my credit. What can the reason be that you mistake so egregiously?" The man dryly replied, "The reason why you and I, Sir, are not upon a par is plain enough—the sun discovers all my blunders, but the earth covers yours."

G.I.FEPITAPH

On a tablet in the outside wall of the old church, at Taunton, in Somersetshire, is the following on "James Waters, late of London, aged 49."

Death traversing the western road,And asking where true merit lay,Made in this town a short abode,Then took this worthy man away.W.RLIFEGrass of levity,Span in brevity,Flower's felicity,Fire of misery,Wind's stabilityIs mortality.NOTICE FROM THE PUBLISHER

Purchasers of the MIRROR, who may wish to complete their volumes, are informed that the whole of the numbers are now in print, and can be procured by giving an order to any Bookseller or Newsvender.

Complete sets Vol I. to XI. in boards, price £3. 19s. 6d half bound, £3. 17s.

LIMBIRD'S EDITION OF THEFollowing Novels are already Published:s.d

Mackenzie's Man of Feeling .............. 0…6

Paul and Virginia ....................... 0…6

The Castle of Otranto ................... 0…6

Almoran and Hamet ....................... 0…6

Elizabeth, or the Exiles of Siberia ..... 0…6

The Castles of Athlin and Dunbayne ...... 0…6

Rasselas ................................ 0…8

The Old English Baron ................... 0…8

Nature and Art .......................... 0…8

Goldsmith's Vicar of Wakefield .......... 0..10

Sicilian Romance ........................ 1…0

The Man of the World .................... 1…0

A Simple Story .......................... 1…4

Joseph Andrews .......................... 1…6

Humphry Clinker ..........................1…8

The Romance of the Forest ............... 1…8

The Italian ............................. 2…0

Zeluco, by Dr. Moore .................... 2…0

Edward, by Dr. Moore .................... 2…6

Roderick Random ......................... 2…6

The Mysteries of Udolpho ................ 3…6

1

Mrs. A.T. Thomson, in her Memoirs of the Court of Henry the Eighth, says, "On the night of the Epiphany (1510), a pageant was introduced into the hall at Richmond, representing a hill studded with gold and precious stones, and having on its summit a tree of gold, from which hung roses and pomegranates. From the declivity of the hill descended a lady richly attired, who, with the gentlemen, or, as they were then called, children of honour, danced a morris before the king. On another occasion, in the presence of the court, an artificial forest was drawn in by a lion and an antelope, the hides of which were richly embroidered with golden ornaments; the animals were harnessed with chains of gold, and on each sat a fair damsel in gay apparel. In the midst of the forest, which was thus introduced, appeared a gilded tower, at the end of which stood a youth, holding in his hands a garland of roses, as the prize of valour in a tournament which succeeded the pageant!"

2

The Comet which appeared in 1759, and which (says Lambert) returned the quickest of any that we have an account of, had a winter of seventy years. Its heat surpassed imagination.