The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 19, No. 533, February 11, 1832

Believe me, ever yours,

CHARLES KEMBLE."

"P.S. When I next see you advertised for Rover, I intend to leave myself out of the bill to come and see it."

Of course this letter did not remain long unanswered. Ben was again in requisition, and the following was the result of his labours:—

"DEAR CHARLES,

I regret the situation of Covent-garden Theatre—I also, for your sake, deeply regret that the law does not permit you to send me the 'property' in question. I knew that law alone could prevent you; for were it not for the vigilance of Equity, such is my opinion of the management of Covent-garden, that I am convinced, if left to the dictates of its own judgment, it would be enabled to spare asses' heads, not to the Surrey atone, but to every theatre in Christendom.

Yours ever truly,

ROBERT WILLIAM ELLISTON."

"P.S. My wardrobe-keeper informs me that there are no less than seven buttons missing from the captains' coats. However, I have ordered their places to be instantaneously filled by others."

We entreat our readers not to receive the above as a squib of invention. We will not pledge ourselves that the letters are verbatim from the originals; but the loan of the Surrey music and coats to Covent-garden, with the refusal of Covent-garden's ass's head to the Surrey, is "true as holy writ."

Monthly Magazine.

NOTES OF A READER

THE BOOK OF INSTRUCTION

This is styled by the publisher "The Child's Annual;" we do not think reasonably so, since instruction is suited for all times. It is a tolerably thick volume, and contains the Easies of Grammar, Geography, Arithmetic, Natural History, Punctuation, History, Poetry, Music, and Dancing; with outlines of Agriculture, Anatomy, Architecture, Astronomy, Botany, and other branches of science and knowledge—a Chronology and description of the London public buildings. The contents, to be sure, are multifarious; but the book is we think made of a series of books to be purchased separately. Every page has a coloured cut of a very gay order. Cottages have yellow roofs and pink doors; and shopkeepers are dressed in crimson and orange. Some of the grammatical illustrations are droll: a heavy old fellow, cross-legged, with his hands folded on a stick is myself; Punch is an active verb; a wedding might have illustrated the conjunction; four in hand is a preposition. In punctuation, a child asking what o'clock it is, illustrates a note of interrogation. We could have supplied the editor with the Colon: a little girl who had much difficulty in understanding its use, one day complained that a pain in her stomach was as bad as a colon. The pictures in Geography are not so good as they might have been; and it would have been easy to give correct outlines of animals, since others mislead children. Music made easy is better, as are Steps to Dancing. The Chronology is faulty and ill-adapted for children: what do the little dears want to know of the sale of Cobbett's Register, or Mr. Fletcher and Miss Dick. There are certain things which children should know, and others which they should not hear of. Show them as many of the virtues of mankind as you please: prepare the soil well, and there will be less chance of vicious weeds. Altogether this book merits recommendation. It is nicely bound, as the Guinea Annual folks say, partly in Arabesque.

CHEAP MEDICINE

A publisher who pays much regard to usefulness and economy in reprints has put forth Buchan's Domestic Medicine for something less than a crown, with a supplementary "Cholera Morbus, its history, symptoms, mode of treatment, antidotes,&c." By the way, we have often thought Buchan's book like the Dead Sea: you cannot fall into the latter without some of its water incrusting on you, and you cannot read Buchan without feeling an ache. Its popularity is founded upon the hackneyed adage "the knowledge of a disease is half its cure." People will pore over its sea of calamities till they almost fall into the fire, or get scalded with the water from a kettle, and then turn to the Index, Scalds, page 326: perhaps this is a good plan to test the practical value of a book, as the surgeon scalded two fingers and plunged one into turpentine and the other into spirits of wine to test their respective services in case of a scald.

Here too we may notice a cheap Companion to the Family Medicine Chest, with an alphabetical arrangement of Medicines, their properties, and plain rules for taking them; with the Cholera, of course, as a rider, and cautions respecting suspended animation and poisons. The little shillingsworth is in its fifteenth edition, so that many thousand persons must have taken many million doses by its prescription, and in some cases become their own medicine chests, with this book as their companion.

HERBERT'S COUNTRY PARSON, &c

Readers who delight to slake their thirst for knowledge from the deep and pure wells of our olden literature will rejoice to hear of a cheap and elegant reprint of this beautiful little book. Perchance some book-buyer need be told that the above is a book to live by—an invaluable legacy of a parish priest to his brethren and the world. The author George Herbert, was born in 1593, near Montgomery, in the castle that had been successively happy in the Herberts, as Isaak Walton observes, "a family that hath been blest with men of remarkable wisdom." Herbert was educated at Cambridge, where he obtained the friendship of "the great secretary of nature and all learning, Sir Francis Bacon, Lord Verulam," who consulted Herbert "before he would expose any of his books to be printed, and dedicated a version of the Psalms to him as the best judge of divine poetry." Herbert was patronized by James I. who, for an elegant Latin oration, gave him a sinecure of 120l. a-year, for in those days the only Royal Society of Literature was in the palace; it is now among subjects, and too little in the Court. Upon the death of James, Herbert's Court hopes died also, and he betook himself to a retreat from London. In this retirement, "he had many conflicts with himself, whether he should return to the painted pleasures of court life or betake himself to the study of divinity, and enter into sacred orders." He chose the latter. He married well. In 1630 he was inducted into the parsonage of Bemerton, a mile from Salisbury; the third day after which, he said to his wife, "You are now a minister's wife, and must now so far forget your father's house, as not to claim a precedence of any one of your parishioners; for you are to know that a priest's wife can challenge no precedence or place, but that which she purchases by her obliging humility; and I am sure, places so purchased do best become them. And let me tell you, that I am so good a herald, as to assure you that this is truth." These rules his meek wife observed with cheerful willingness. Herbert now set about his "Priest to the Temple: or the Country Parson, his character, and rule of Holy Life." Unlike many doctrinists, he practised his own rules: he was a self-example of his own precepts, and his book was the rule of his own life; or, as Walton more beautifully explains it "his behaviour towards God and man may be said to be a practical comment on the holy rules set down in that useful book." Thus, he sets forth the Diversities of a Pastor's life: the Parson's life, knowledge, praying, preaching, Sundays, house, courtesy, charity, church, comfort, eye, mirth, &c.; his prayers before and after Sermon, with a few poetical pieces of quaint but touching sweetness. His poetry has been censured for its point and antithesis; but he cultivated the poetical art to convey moral and devotional sentiments; others excel him in smoothness of versification, but not in benevolent purpose. Herbert though himself a pattern of humility, was younger brother of the celebrated Lord Herbert of Cherbury, whom Horace Walpole abuses for his beauty and gallant bearing, tinctured it must be allowed, with affected notions of high birth. But the gay philosopher of Cherbury lived in the last days of chivalry, and had their light but gleamed upon Walpole, he would, in all probability, have borne the very qualities which he so loudly censures in Herbert. The pastor Herbert's wife was nearly related to Lord Danby, so that the caution which we have quoted was perhaps requisite. As Herbert sank his own high birth, it was but fit that his wife should forget hers also.

THE NEW BATH GUIDE

What a change from grave to gay—from the moral antitheses of Herbert's Country Parson to the fun and folly of Anstey's New Bath Guide, with etchings by George Cruikshank, and cuts admirably designed and engraved by S. Williams—as Mr. Simkin dressing for the ball:

But what with my Nivernois hat can compare,Bag-wig and laced ruffles, and black solitaire,And what can a man of true fashion denote,Like an ell of good riband tyed under the throat.

and "We three blunder-heads," two frizzled physicians of the last century, and the invariably accompanying cane, or Esculapian wand. This edition is by Mr. Britton, who has prefixed a dedication and an essay on the genius of Anstey, both of which sparkle with humour and lively anecdote; and an amusing sketch of Bath as it is. Among the anecdotical notes to the Poem it is stated that Dodsley acknowledged about ten years after he had purchased the "Bath Guide," that the profits from its sale were greater than on any other book he had published. He generously gave up the copyright to the author in 1777, who had 200l. for the copyright after the second edition. Yet Dodsley, with all his liberality lived to be rich, though he originally was footman to the Hon. Mrs. Lowther; so true is it that genius and perseverance will find their way upwards from any station.

There is a pleasant anecdote of the late John Palmer, who, it will be remembered, was somewhat stiltish. "Palmer, whose father was a bill-sticker, and who had occasionally practised in the same humble occupation himself, strutting one evening in the green-room at Drury-Lane Theatre, in a pair of glittering buckles, a gentleman present remarked that they greatly resembled diamonds. 'Sir,' said Palmer, with warmth, 'I would have you to know, that I never wear anything but diamonds.' 'Jack, your pardon,' replied the gentleman, 'I remember the time when you wore nothing but paste!' This produced a loud laugh, which was heightened by Parsons jogging him on the elbow, and drily saying, 'Jack, why don't you stick him against the wall?'"

Another. Mr. Quin, upon his first going to Bath, found he was charged most exorbitantly for every thing; and, at the end of a week, complained to Nash, who had invited him thither, as the cheapest place in England for a man of taste and a bon vivant. The master of the ceremonies, who knew that Quin relished a pun, replied, "They have acted by you on truly Christian principles." "How so?" says Quin. "Why," answered Nash, "you were a stranger, and they took you in." "Ay" rejoined Quin; "but they have fleeced me, instead of clothed me."

THE OUTLINE OF ENGLISH HISTORY,

Is a well-executed compendium for schools, and will be amusing by any fire-side. It not merely contains the great names, but abounds with curious notes on domestic life in each reign, with facts and calculations which must have cost the editor, Mr. Ince, many days labour. The period pompously termed "the Georgian Aera" is not so copious us the editor wishes, but a little more forethought on his part or that of the printer would better satisfy himself and the public.

SNATCHES

From Mr. Bulwer's Novel of "Eugene Aram," vol. i.

Love of Nature.—It has been observed and there is a world of homely, ay, of legislative knowledge in the observation, that wherever you see a flower in a cottage-garden, or a bird at the window, you may feel sure that the cottagers are better and wiser than their neighbours.

Humour.—Where but in farces is the phraseology of the humorist always the same?

Conversation Tactics.—A quick, short, abrupt turn, that retrenching all superfluities of pronoun and conjunction, and marching at once upon the meaning of the sentence, had in it a military and Spartan significance, which betrayed how difficult it often is for a man to forget that he had been a corporal.

Music of Water.—You saw hard by the rivulet darkening and stealing away, till your sight, though not your ear, lost it among the woodland.

A fine Fellow—He had strong principles as well as warm feelings, and a fine and resolute sense of honour utterly impervious to attack. It was impossible to be in his company an hour, and not see that he was a man to be respected. It was equally impossible to live with him a week, and not see that he was a man to be beloved.

Marriage.—The greatest happiness which the world is capable of bestowing—the society and love of one in whom we could wish for no change, and beyond whom we have no desire.

Fatality.—What evil cannot corrupt, Fate seldom spares.

Widowhood.—If the blow did not crush, at least it changed him.

Comfort of Children.—As his nephew and his motherless daughters grew up, they gave an object to his seclusion, and a relief to his reflections. He found a pure and unfailing delight in watching the growth of their young minds, and guiding their differing dispositions; and, as time at length enabled them to return his affection, and appreciate his cares, he became once more sensible that he had a home.

Intellectual Beauty.—Her eyes of a deep blue, wore a thoughtful and serene expression, and her forehead, higher and broader than it usually is in women, gave promise of a certain nobleness of intellect, and added dignity, but a feminine dignity, to the more tender characteristics of her beauty.

A Village Beauty.—The sunlight of a happy and innocent heart sparkled on her face, and gave a beam it gladdened you to behold, to her quick hazel eye, and a smile that broke out from a thousand dimples.

An unformed mind.—Cheerful to outward seeming, but restless, fond of change, and subject to the melancholy and pining mood common to young and ardent minds.

Dependence.—What in the world makes a man of just pride appear so unamiable as the sense of dependence.

Two modes of sitting in a chair.—The one short, dry, fragile, and betraying a love of ease in his unbuttoned vest, and a certain lolling, see-sawing method of balancing his body upon his chair; the other, erect and solemn, and as steady on his seat as if he were nailed to it.

A Soldier's simile.—Your shy dog is always a deep one: give me a man who looks me in the face as he would a cannon.

A Landlord's Independence.—The indifference of a man well to do, and not ambitious of half-pence. "There's my wife by the door, friend; go, tell her what you want."

THE GATHERER

The Opera. From the number of French and German operas announced for performance at the King's Theatre, it should no longer be called the Italian Opera, but the Foreign Opera.

Tooth Ache.—Powdered alum not only relieves this annoyance, but prevents the decay of the tooth.

Egypt.—The French are just at this moment crazy for Egyptian antiquities. "While Champollion (on dit)is about to unrol the mystic papyri in all their primitive significance, the celebrated Caillaud has preceded him with the First Numbers of a work on the Arts and Trades of the Egyptians, Nubians, and Ethiopians; their customs, civil, and domestic, with the manners and customs of the modern inhabitants of these countries." —For. Quart. Rev.

Anne Boleyn.—M. Crapelet, the celebrated Parisian printer, has just written and printed a beautiful little volume entitled Anne Boleyn, which is spoken of as "a careful and pains-taking attempt to exhibit a character hitherto strangely disfigured by party writers, in its true light."

Root of the Devil.—There is a strange root called the Devil's Bit Scabious, of which quaint old Gerard observes: "The great part of the root seemeth to be bitten away: old fantasticke charmers report that the devil did bite it for envie, because it is an herbe that hath so many good virtues, and is so beneficial to mankinde." Sir James Smith as quaintly observes, "the malice of the devil has unhappily been so successful, that no virtue can now be found in the remainder of the root or herb."– Knowledge for the People. Part xiv.

Onions.—The British onion is of the worst description, those of Egypt and India being considered great delicacies. Their strong, disagreeable odour is attributable to the sulphur which they contain, and which is deposited by their juice, when exposed to heat.—Ibid.

Spanish Liquorice is so called from its being manufactured only in Spain and Sicily. The root grows naturally in those countries and in Languedoc, and in such abundance in some parts of Sicily, that it is considered the greatest scourge to the cultivator.—Ibid. (Our brewers and distillers would not be of this opinion were liquorice indigenous to this country.)

Heat in Plants.—Lamarck tells us of a plant, which during a few hours of its growth, is "so hot as to seem burning." Its greatest heat is stated at nearly 45 degrees above the temperature of the air in which the plant was growing.

Iceland is perhaps the most deplorable spot on the world's map. "Not very long ago it counted at least 100,000 inhabitants. Depopulated by time, which has more than once introduced frightful pestilence, there are now not half that number. Their occupation is that of shepherds and fishermen, for the bitterness of the climate makes all agricultural labours vain or unproductive. They are scattered over the wide wastes of the country, far distant, in huts and farms, and it was only in 1787 that any portion of the population was gathered into towns, if towns may be called the two spots where a few families have their abode together."—For. Quart. Rev.

Tobacco and Snuff.—Tobacco is a narcotic and depressing poison, whose effect on the nerves and stomach is to destroy the appetite, prevent the perfect digestion of the food, create an unnatural thirst, and render the individual who uses it nervous and otherwise infirm. Snuff destroys the sense of smell, and causes a very disagreeable alteration in the voice. It also produces head-ache in the course of time; and by the distillation of its juice which falls from the posterior nostrils into the stomach during sleep, gives rise to weak and painful digestion.—Dr. Granville.

Early Rising.—From March to November, at least, no cause, save sickness, or one of equal weight, should retain us in bed a moment after the sun has risen.—Dr. Granville. (What say the lazy Londoners to this? In Paris, shops are opened and set out for the day before six o'clock in the mornings of spring, summer, and great part of autumn.)

Food.—Many articles of consumption, introduced in the reign of Henry VIII, the following distich embraces a few:—

Turkey, carp, hops, pricard, and beer.Came into England all in one year. (1525.)

Ince's Outline of English History.

1

See Rambler, No. 38.

2

It appears to have been called Brighton in a terrier of lands, dated in 1660.

3

In the years 1800 and 1801, when wheat was at an unprecedented price, the occupiers of farms on the South Downs converted much of their downland into tillage, from which they acquired abundant crops of corn. The green sward when once ploughed, can never be restored to its former verdure, and although grass seeds have been yearly sown in succession for more than 80 years upon down formerly broken up and converted into arable land, the distinctions between these parts and the original down is still clearly perceptible.

4

See the remains of a Druidical altar at Goldstone (Gor or Thor stone) bottom, about a mile to the north-west of the town.

5

A Mosaic pavement has been discovered at Lancing, within nine miles west of the town.