The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 13, No. 351, January 10, 1829

MORAL EFFECT OF ROME UPON THE TRAVELLER

Those only who have lived in Rome can duly estimate the potent and lasting impression produced upon the mind of a thinking man, by a residence in this capital of the ancient world. The daily contemplation of so many classical and noble objects elevates and purifies the soul, and has a powerful tendency to allay the inconsiderate fervours and impetuosities of youth, to mature, and consolidate the character. I am already so altered, and, I have the vanity to think, so improved a man since my arrival here, that there are times when I almost doubt my own identity, and imagine that, by some preternatural agency, I have been born over again, and have had new blood and new vitality infused into my frame.

The gratifications of a residence in Rome are inexhaustible. At every turn I discover some new evidence of the power and magnificence of her ancient inhabitants, and vivid sensations of delight and awe rapidly succeed each other. This venerable metropolis is the tomb and monument, not of princes, but of nations; it illustrates the progressive stages of human society, and all other cities appear modern and unfinished in comparison.

Exploring this forenoon the vicinity of Monte Palatino, I discovered in an obscure corner, near the temple of Romulus, the time-hallowed spring of Juturna, rising with crystal clearness near the Cloaca maxima, into which it flows unvalued and forgotten. I refreshed myself in the mid-day heat by drinking its pure lymph from the hollow of my hand, and gazed with long and insatiable delight upon the memorable fountain. This sacred spot is surrounded and obscured by contiguous buildings, and the walls are luxuriantly fringed and mantled with mosses, lichens, and broad leaved ivy. The proud aqueducts of the expanding city diminish the value and importance of this spring, but it was unquestionably the ruling motive which determined Romulus, or possibly an earlier colony of Greeks, to take root here, as within the wide compass of the Roman walls there is no other source of pure water.—Blackwood's Magazine.

SONG, BY T. CAMPBELL

When Love came first to Earth, the SPRINGSpread rose-buds to receive him.And back he vow'd his flight he'd wingTo Heaven, if she should leave him.But SPRING departing, saw his faithPledg'd to the next new comer—He revell'd in the warmer breathAnd richer bowers of SUMMER.Then sportive AUTUMN claim'd by rightsAn Archer for her lover,And even in WINTER'S dark, cold nightsA charm he could discover.Her routs and balls, and fireside joy,For this time were his reasons—In short, Young Love's a gallant boy,That likes all times and seasons.New Monthly Magazine.

SCHOOL AND COLLEGE

College! how different from school! Never believe a great, broad-faced, beetle-browed Spoon, when he tells you, with a sigh that would upset a schooner, that the happiest days of a man's life are those he spends at school. Does he forget the small bed-room occupied by eighteen boys, the pump you had to run to on Sunday mornings, when decency and the usher commanded you to wash? Is he oblivious of the blue chalk and water they flooded your bowels with at breakfast, and called it milk? Has he lost the remembrance of the Yorkshire pudding, vulgarly called choke-dog, of which you were obliged to eat a pound before you were allowed a slice of beef, and of which, if you swallowed half that quantity, you thought cooks and oxen mere works of supererogation, and totally useless on the face of the earth? Has the fool lost all recollection of the prayers in yon cold, wet, clay-floored cellar, proudly denominated the chapel? has he forgot the cuffs from the senior boys, the pinches from the second master? and, in fine, has he forgot the press at the end of the school-room, where a cart-load of birch was deposited at the beginning of every half year, and not a twig left to tickle a mouse with, long before the end of it? He talks of freedom from care—what a negative kind of happiness! Let him cut off his hand, he will never hurt his nails. Let him enclose an order for all his money even unto us, and no more will he be troubled with cares about the Stocks—no more will he be teased with calculations on the price of grain. All that raving about school-boys is perfect nonsense—it is the most miserable period of a human being's life. Poor, shivering, trembling, kicked, buffetted, thumped, and starved little mortals! We never see a large school but we feel inclined to shoot them all, masters, ushers, and door-keepers included, merely to put them out of pain.

But at College, how different!—There, a man begins to feel that it is a matter of total indifference to him whether he sit on a hard wooden bench, or a soft stuffed chair; there, the short coat is discarded, and he stalks about with the air of a three-tailed bashaw, as his own two, generally, at first, are prolonged a little below the knee; there, his penny tart, which he bought on Saturdays at the door of the school, is exchanged for a dessert from Golding's; his beer, which he occasionally imbibed at the little pot-house, two miles beyond the school bounds, is exchanged for his wine from Butler's.—Books from Talboy's, the most enterprising of bibliopoles, supply the place of the tattered Dictionary he brought to the University, which, after being stolen when new, and passing, by the same process, through twenty hands, is at last, when fluttering in its last leaves, restolen by the original proprietor, who fancies he has made a very profitable "nibble." The trot he used to enjoy by stealth on the butcher's broken-kneed pony, is succeeded now by a gallop on a steed of Quartermain's; and he is delighted to find that horse and owner strive which shall be the softest-mouthed and gentlest charger. The dandy mare, we suppose, has many long years ago made fat the great-grandfathers of the present race of dogs; and old Scroggins, we imagine, has been trod to pieces in boots and shoes, the very memory of which departed long, long before they were paid for. Of old Scroggins—as Dr. Johnson says—and of his virtues, let us indulge ourself in the recollection. Though not formed in the finest mould, or endowed with the extremity of swiftness, his pace was sure and steady—equal to Hannibal in endurance of fatigue; and, like that celebrated commander, his aspect was rendered peculiarly fierce and striking by a blemish in his eye; not ignorant of the way to Woodstock was the wall-eyed veteran; not unacquainted with the covers at Ditchley; not unaccustomed to the walls at Hethrop: but Dandy and Scroggins have padded the hoof from this terrestrial and unstable world—peace to their manes!—Blackwood's Magazine.

SPIRIT OF DISCOVERY

Friction of Screws and Screw-presses

An examination of the friction in screws having their threads of various forms, has led M. Poncelet to this very important conclusion, namely, that the friction in screws with square threads is to that of equal screws with triangular threads, as 2.90 to 4.78, proving a very important advantage of the former over the latter, relative to the loss of power incurred in both by friction.—Brande's Journal.

Fulminating Powder

According to M. Landgerbe, a mixture of two parts nitre, two parts neutral carbonate of potash, one part of sulphur, and six parts of common salt, all finely pulverized, makes a very powerful fulminating powder. M. Landgerbe adopts the extraordinary error of supposing that these preparations act with more force downwards than in any other direction.—Bull. Univ.

Aurora Borealis

An aurora borealis was seen from North End, Hampstead, near London, from about seven o'clock until eleven, on the evening of Dec. 1. It generally appeared as a light resembling twilight, but shifting about both to the east and the west of north, and occasionally forming streams which continued for several minutes, and extended from 30 to 40 degrees high. The light on the horizon was not more than 12 or 15 degrees in height.—Brande's Journal.

Paper Linen

According to the Paris papers, a new invention, called papier linge, has lately attracted much attention. It consists of a paper made closely to resemble damask and other linen, not only to the eye, but even to the touch. The articles are used for every purpose to which linen is applicable, except those requiring much strength and durability. The price is low, a napkin costs only five or six centimes (about a halfpenny), and when dirty, they are taken back at half-price. A good sized table-cloth sells for a franc, and a roll of paper with one or two colours for papering rooms or for bed curtains, may be had for the same price.

Maturation of Wine

M. de St. Vincent, of Havre, states, from his own experience of long continuance, that when bottles containing wine are closed by tying a piece of parchment or bladder over their mouths, instead of using corks in the ordinary manner, the wine acquires, in a few weeks only, those qualities which is only given by age in the ordinary way after many years.—Nouveau Jour, de Paris.

Indications of Wholesomeness in Mushrooms

Whenever a fungus is pleasant in flavour and odour, it may be considered wholesome; if, on the contrary, it have an offensive smell, a bitter, astringent, or styptic taste, or even if it leave an unpleasant flavour in the mouth, it should not be considered fit for food. The colour, figure, and texture of these vegetables do not afford any characters on which we can safely rely; yet it may be remarked, that in colour, the pure yellow, gold colour, bluish pale, dark or lustre brown, wine red, or the violet, belong to many that are esculent; whilst the pale or sulphur yellow, bright or blood red, and the greenish, belong to few but the poisonous. The safe kinds have most frequently a compact, brittle texture; the flesh is white; they grow more readily in open places, such as dry pastures and waste lands, than in places humid or shaded by wood. In general, those should be suspected which grow in caverns and subterranean passages, on animal matter undergoing putrefaction, as well as those whose flesh is soft or watery.—Brande's Journal.

Zoological Society

Dr. Brookes, in his address to the recent anniversary meeting of the Zoological Society, stated that the Museum already contains 600 species of mammalia, 4,000 birds, 1,000 reptiles and fishes, 1,000 testacea and Crustacea, and 30,000 insects. During the last seven months, the Gardens and Museum have been visited by upwards of 30,000 persons. The vivarium contains upwards of 430 living quadrupeds and birds. The expenses of the past year have been 10,000l., partly contributed by the admission of the public, and still more largely by the members of the Society, who already exceed 1,200 in number. These are gratifying facts to every lover of natural history, as they serve to indicate the progress of zoology in this country—a study which it has ever been our aim to identify with the pages of the MIRROR.

RETROSPECTIVE GLEANINGS

ENGLISH ROADS

The roads of England are the marvel of the world. The improvements which have been effected during a century would be almost miraculous, did we not consider that they had been produced by the spirit and intelligence of the people, and were in no degree dependant upon the apathy or caprice of the ruling power. The first turnpike-road was established by an act of the 3rd Charles II. The mob pulled down the gates; and the new principle was supported at the point of the bayonet. But long after that period travelling was difficult and dangerous. In December, 1703, Charles III. king of Spain, slept at Petworth on his way from Portsmouth to Windsor, and Prince George of Denmark went to meet him there by desire of the queen. In the relation of the journey given by one of the prince's attendants, he states, "We set out at six in the morning, by torchlight, to go to Petworth, and did not get out of the coaches (save only when we were overturned or stuck fast in the mire) till we arrived at our journey's end. 'Twas a hard service for the prince to sit fourteen hours in the coach that day without eating any thing, and passing through the worst ways I ever saw in my life. We were thrown but once indeed in going, but our coach, which was the leading one, and his highnesses body coach, would have suffered very much, if the nimble boors of Sussex had not frequently poised it, or it with their shoulders, from Godalming almost to Petworth; and the nearer we approached the duke's house, the more inaccessible* it seemed to be. The last nine miles of the way cost us six hours' time to conquer them; and, indeed, we had never done it, if our good master had not several times lent us a pair of horses out of his own coach, whereby we were enabled to trace out the way for him." Afterwards, writing of his departure on the following day from Petworth to Guildford, and thence to Windsor, he says, "I saw him (the prince) no more, till I found him at supper at Windsor; for there we were overturned, (as we had been once before the same morning,) and broke our coach; my Lord Delaware had the same fate, and so had several others."—Vide Annals of Queen Anne, vol. ii. Appendix, No. 3.

In the time of Charles, (surnamed the Proud,) Duke of Somerset, who died in 1748, the roads in Sussex were in so bad a state, that, in order to arrive at Guildford from Petworth, travellers were obliged to make from the nearest point of the great road leading from Portsmouth to London. This was a work of so much difficulty, as to occupy the whole day; and the duke had a house at Guildford which was regularly used as a resting-place for the night by any of his family travelling to London. A manuscript letter from a servant of the duke, dated from London, and addressed to another at Petworth, acquaints the latter that his grace intended to go from London thither on a certain day, and directs that "the keepers and persons who knew the holes and the sloughs must come to meet his grace with lanterns and long poles to help him on his way."

The late Marquess of Buckingham built an inn at Missenden, about forty miles from London, as the state of the roads compelled him to sleep there on the way to Stow—a journey which is at present performed between breakfast and dinner.

THE GATHERER

A snapper up of unconsidered trifles.SHAKSPEARE.

Sir Joseph Banks used to tell a story of his being at Otaheite with Capt. Cook, when it was accidentally discovered to be the king's birth-day, on which it was suddenly agreed to have a jollification; every soul on board got fuddled, except three men who were on duty. The next day they came on deck, and begged to speak to the captain. "Well," said the captain, "what have you got to say?"– "Please your honour, you were all drunk yesterday, all except we three; will your honour be pleased to allow us to get drunk to-day?" Sir Joseph, who was standing by, was so tickled with the oddity of the request, that he begged they might be indulged, and that he would subscribe two bottles of rum and two bottles of brandy. The boon was granted, and in less than three hours, these messmates balanced accounts, being as drunk as their hearts could wish.—Mr Wadd.

MADEMOISELLE MARS

Some time after Napoleon's return to Paris, in 1815, as he was passing the troops in review at the Place Carousel, he happened to see the celebrated Mademoiselle Mars, stationed among the troops, in order to view the imposing military spectacle. The emperor, approaching the spot, and addressing her, said, "What do you do here, Mademoiselle? this is no place for you."—"Sire," answered the witty and animated daughter of Thalia, "I come to behold a real hero; I am tired of seeing mock ones upon the stage."

INA.

Some years ago the following inscription, engraved on the fragment of a stone, was discovered amongst the relics of an antiquarian, and was considered by him as a great curiosity, and enhanced in value by its translation having puzzled the best scholars of the age:—

BENE.A.T.H. T.H. I.S.S.TONERE. POS. ETH. CLAUD. COSTER. TRIPE. SELLEROF. IMPIN. GT. ONAS. DOTH. HIS. CON. SORT. I. A. N. E.

Some supposed it to refer to the Emperor Claudian, till a lad one day spelt it out: "Beneath this stone reposeth Claud Coster, tripe-seller, of Impington, as doth his consort Jane." R. B.

DRINKING

Captain John Graunt, in his Observations on the Bills of Mortality, says, that of 229,250 persons, who died in twenty years, only two are put to the account of excessive drinking. But, perhaps, if the matter were truly stated, a great many of the dropsies, apoplexies, and palsies ought to have been placed under that head. It is not impossible that those who had the charge of rendering these accounts, might have entertained the opinion of old Dick Baldwyn, who stoutly maintained that no man ever died of drinking. "Some puny things," said he, "have died learning to drink, but no man ever died of drinking!" Now, this was no mean authority; for he spoke from great practical experience, and was moreover many years treasurer of St. Bartholomew's Hospital.—Mr. Wadd—in Brande's Journal.

The "Sunday Times" of the 28th ult. has the following paragraph inserted:—

Typographical Errors

The New Times speaks (some time ago) of a "Party given by the Duke of Pork!" Another paper, of "Proceedings in the Court of Common Fleas!" and the Morning Chronicle of Tuesday last speaks of "an atrocious Bobbery!" The cream of this criticism on others is, that the very same paper has the following paragraph:—"Fleet Prison, Dec. 26th. Died last night, about 12 o'clock, the Rev. Mr. Chaundy, in the meridian of life. This makes the ninth death which has happened in the Fleet since the 29th of April last. The free use of spirituous liquors is the cause of so much MORALITY in the prison."

BONAS.

A "MELTING SUBJECT."

M. Tissot, a celebrated French physician, who was the intimate friend of Zimmerman, relates the case of a literary gentleman, who would never venture near a fire, from imagining himself to be made of butter, and being fearful he should melt.

"There are whom heaven has bless'd with store of wit,Yet want as much again to manage it."

LIMBIRD'S EDITION OF THE

Following Novels are already Published:

1

Letter-press to Jones's "Metropolitan Improvements."

2

I have taken these words for my motto, because they enable me to tell a story. When the present King of France received his first address on the return from the emigration, his answer was, "Rien n'est changé, mes amis; il n'y a qu'un Français de plus." When the Giraffe arrived in the Jardin des Plantes, the Parisians had a caricature, in which the ass, and the hog, and the monkey were presenting an address to the stranger, while the elephant and the lion stalked angrily away. Of course, the portraits were recognisable—and the animal was responding graciously, "Rien n'est changé, mes amis: il n'y a qu'un bête de plus!"