The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 12, No. 346, December 13, 1828

An author before us observes, that this tale of the emperor's slumbers cannot, perhaps, be deemed original, and is probably a popular version of the Seven Sleepers, "not a little disfigured by the peculiar superstition of the country." The same writer remarks, with justice, that it is surprising how few are the sources, and how scanty the parent stock, from whence all the varieties of European legend are derived. Indeed, the foundation of a great part of these legendary stories seems to have been the heathen mythology of the different countries, and the various tales of superstition being handed down from one generation to another, have gradually assumed the shape they now bear; from whence may be traced most of our popular superstitions.

THE LEGEND OF THE GOATHERDWhen I behold a football to and fro,Urged by a throng of players equally,Methinks I see, resembled in that show,This round earth poised in the vacant sky.And all we learn whereas the game is o'er,That life is but a dream, and nothing more.AMADIS JANRYN."Know'st thou me not?"–"Oh, yes, (I cried,) thou art indeed the same."GOETHE.

At the peaceful village of Sittendorf dwelt Peter Klaus, the goatherd. He daily tended his flocks to pasture in the Kyffhäusen mountains, and never failed, as evening approached, to muster them in a little mead, surrounded by a stone wall, preparatory to driving them home; for some time, however, he had observed, that one of the finest of his herd regularly disappeared soon after coming to this nook, and did not join her companions till late. One night, watching her attentively, he remarked that she slipped through a hole or opening in the wall, on which he cautiously crept after the animal, and found she was in a cave, busily engaged in gleaning the grains of corn that fell down singly from the roof. Peter did not look long before the shower of corn that now saluted him made him shake his ears, and inflamed his curiosity the more to discover the cause of so singular an occurrence in that out-of-the-way place. However, at last he heard the neigh and stamping of horses, apparently proceed from above; and it was doubtless from their mangers that the oats had fallen.

While standing, still wrapped in amazement at the singularity of the adventure, Peter's surprise was not diminished on observing a boy, who, without saying a word, silently beckoned him to follow. Peter mechanically obeyed the gestures of the lad, and ascended some steps, which led over a walled court into a hollow place, completely surrounded on all sides by lofty rocks, and crowned by the rich foliage of shrubs, through which an imperfect twilight displayed a smooth, well-trimmed lawn, that formed the ground he stood upon. Here were twelve knights, who, without so much as uttering a syllable, were very gravely playing at nine-pins; and as silently was Peter inducted into the office of assistant, namely, in setting up these nine-pins. Peter's courage was none of the strongest during all this time, and his knees smote each other most devoutly as he commenced his duties; while he occasionally ventured to steal a glance at the venerable knights, whose long beards and antique slashed doublets filled him with profound awe.

His fears, however, began to be on the wane, as he became more accustomed to his new employment. Indeed, he went so far as to gaze on one of the noble knights straight in the face—nay, even at last ventured to sip out of a bowl of wine that stood near him, which diffused a most delicious odour around. He found this sip so invigorating, that he soon took a somewhat longer pull; and in a short time Peter had quite forgotten that such things as Sittendorf, Wife, or Goats had ever existed; and on finding himself the least weary, he had only to apply to the never-failing goblet. At last he fell fast asleep.

On waking, Peter found he was in the same little enclosure where he was wont to count his flocks. He shook himself well, and rubbed his eyes; but neither dog nor goats were to be seen; and he was astonished in no slight degree to observe that he was nearly surrounded with high grass, and trees, and shrubs, which he never before remarked, growing about that spot. Lost in perplexity, he followed his way to all the different haunts he had frequented with his herds, but no traces of them were to be discovered; at last he hastily bent his steps to Sittendorf, which lay beneath.

The persons whom he met on his way to the village were all strangers to him; they were differently dressed, and did not precisely speak the language of his acquaintance; and on inquiring after his goats, all stared and touched their chins. At last he mechanically did the same, but what was his surprise when he found his beard lengthened at least a foot; on which he began to conclude that he and those around him were all under the influence of magic or enchantment. Yet the mountain he had descended was certainly the Kyffhäusen—the cottages, too, with their gardens and enclosures, were all quite familiar to him—and he heard some boys reply to the passing questions of a traveller, that it was Sittendorf.

His doubt and perplexity now increased every moment, and he quickened his steps towards his own dwelling; he hardly knew it, it was so much decayed; and before the door lay a strange goatherd's boy, with a dog apparently at the last extreme of age, that snarled when he spoke to him. He entered the house through an opening, which had formerly been closed by a door. All was waste and void within; he staggered out as if he had lost his senses, calling on his wife and children by their names; but no one heard—none answered. Before long, a crowd of women and children had collected around the strange old man, with the long hoary beard, and all inquired what it was he was seeking after. This was almost too much; to be thus questioned before his own door was more than strange, and he felt ashamed to ask after his wife and children, or even of himself; but to get rid of his querists he mentioned the first name that occurred to him, "Kurt Steffen?" The people looked around in silence, till at length an old woman said, "He has been in the churchyard these twelve years past, and you'll not go thither to-day."—"Velten Meier?"—"Heaven rest his soul!" replied an ancient dame, leaning on a crutch. "Heaven rest his soul! he has lain in the house he will never leave these fifteen years!"

The goatherd shuddered to recognise in the last speaker his next neighbour, who seemed all at once to have grown old; but he had lost all desire to inquire further. Suddenly a smart young woman pressed through the surrounding gapers, with an infant in her arms, and leading a girl about fourteen years old—all three the exact image of his wife. With greater surprise than ever he inquired her name. "Maria!"—"And your father's name?"—"Peter Klaus! Heaven rest his soul! It is now twenty years since his goats returned without him, and we sought for him in vain day and night in the Kyffhäusen mountains—I was then hardly seven years old."

Our goatherd could no longer contain himself. "I am Peter Klaus!" he roared, "I am Peter Klaus, and no one else!" and he caught the child from his daughter's arms. Every one, for an instant, stood as if petrified, till at length one voice, and another, and then another, exclaimed, "Yes, this is, indeed, Peter Klaus! welcome, neighbour! welcome, after twenty years!"

VYVYAN.

SPIRIT OF DISCOVERY

ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS

Since our last visit, many of the tenants have begun to hybernate, and tasteful erections have been made for their winter quarters in all parts of the gardens. Several others are in progress, and a semi-circular aviary for British birds is already built. The season is far advanced, and there have been but few arrivals of late. The emus' grounds have been enclosed with elegant iron-work, and several removals or changes have taken place. Some of the animals are much affected by the cold weather. Thus, the monkeys have left their houses on poles, and retired to enclosed cages, where they nestle in groups of threes and fours, and amuse themselves by teazing the least of their company; for here, as elsewhere, the weakest goes to the wall. Three fine wolves, previously shut up in a small den, now enjoy a large cage, where they appear much invigorated by the bracing season. Here and there a little animal lies curled up in the corner of his cage, in a state of torpidity. Among the birds, the macaws were holding an in-door council in their robes of state; whilst one fine fellow, in blue coat and yellow waistcoat, perched himself outside the aviary, and by his cries, proved that fine colours were not weather-proof. The snowy plumage of the storks was "tempered to the wind;" but they reminded us of their original abode—the wilderness. The eagles and vultures in the circular aviary sat on their perches, looking melancholy and disconsolate, but well protected from cold. The kangaroos have removed into their new house, and their park has been relaid, although they still look unsettled. A very pretty beaver-house has been built of mimic rocks.

Among the introductions, or new faces, we noticed a pair of fine mastiffs from Cuba, and two Thibet watch-dogs. One of the latter stood shivering in the cold, with bleared eyes, and crying "like a lubberly postmaster's boy." The three bears exhibited as much good-breeding as the visiters encouraged,—climbing to the top of the pole when there was any thing to climb after, and an Admiralty expedition could do no more.

Poisoning of Vegetables.

Several very curious experiments on the poisoning of vegetables, have recently been made by M. Marcet, of Geneva.—His experiments on arsenic, which is well known to every one as a deadly poison to animals, were thus conducted. A vessel containing two or three bean plants, each of five or six leaves, was watered with two ounces of water, containing twelve grains of oxide of arsenic in solution. At the end of from twenty-four to thirty-six hours, the plants had faded, the leaves drooped, and had even begun to turn yellow; the roots remained fresh, and appeared to be living. Attempts to restore the plants after twelve or eighteen hours, by abundant watering, failed to recover them. The leaves and stem of the dead plant gave, upon chemical examination, traces of arsenic. A branch of a rose-tree, including a flower, was gathered just as the rose began to blow; the stem was put into a vessel, containing a solution of six grains of oxide of arsenic in an ounce of water. The flower and leaves soon showed symptoms of disease, and on the fifth day the whole branch was withered and dead, though only one-fifth of a grain of arsenic had been absorbed. Similar stems, placed in pure water, had, after five days, the roses fully expanded, and the leaves fresh and green.

On June 1st, a slit of one inch and a half in length was made in the stem of a lilac tree, the branch being about an inch in diameter. The slit extended to the pith. Fifteen or twenty grains of moistened arsenic were introduced, the cut was closed, and the stem retained in its original position by osier ties. On the 8th, the leaves began to roll up at the extremity; on the 28th, the branches were dry, and, in the second week of July, the whole of the stem was dry, and the tree itself dead. In about fifteen days after the first, a tree, which joined the former a little above the earth, shared the same fate, in consequence of its connexion with that into which the poison had been introduced. Other trees similarly cut, but without having been poisoned, suffered no kind of injury.

M. Marcet's experiments upon vegetable poisons are no less interesting, and still more wonderful, as indicating a degree of irritability in plants somewhat similar to that which depends on the nervous system in animals. After having ascertained that the bean plants could exist in a healthy state for five or six days, if immersed in the same quantity of spring water, he tried them with five or six grains of opium dissolved in an ounce of water, the consequence of which was, that in the evening the leaves had dropped, and, by the middle of next day, they were dead beyond recovery. Other vegetable poisons of the narcotic class produced a similar effect. Hemlock was equally fatal, and six grains of dry powdered foxglove, in an ounce of water, began to operate, by wrinkling some of the leaves of the bean in a few moments, which it completely killed in twenty-four hours. Oxalic acid or salt of sorrel, though found in common and wood sorrel, and a great many plants, proved a very fatal poison to others. The absorption of one-tenth of a grain, killed a rose branch and flower in forty—eight hours.—

Quar. Jour. of Agriculture.

NOTES OF A READER

KNOWING PEOPLE

How happily do these few lines characterize a certain set of people who pick up news from "good authority," and settle the fate of the nation over strong potations of brandy and water, or Calvert's porter, forgetting that "people who drink beer, think beer." Suppose a question of great public interest afloat:—"Reports are abroad, precisely of the proper pitch of absurdity, for the greedy swallowing of the great grey-goggle-eyed public, who may be seen standing with her mouth wide open like a crocodile, with her hands in her breeches-pockets, at the crosses of cities on market-days, gluttonously devouring whatever rumour flings into her maw—nor in the least aware that she is all the time eating wind. People of smallish abilities begin to look wiser and wiser every day—their nods seem more significant—in the shaking of their heads there is more of Burleigh—and in short sentences—that sound like apophthegms—they are apt to impose themselves on their credulous selves as so many Solomons."

NEW CHURCHES

Among the numerous sermons lately preached in pursuance of the King's letter for the enlargement and building of churches and chapels, we notice one by the vicar of Dorking, in Surrey, from which we extract the following:—"In many places of this country it is lamentable to behold the ruinous state of churches. If a man's dwelling-house be decayed, he will never cease till it be restored; if his barn, where he bestows all his fruits and his goods, be out of repair, what diligence doth he use to make it perfect? If the stable for his horse, or the sty for his swine, be not able to exclude the severity of weather, when the rains fall, and the winds blow, how careful is he to incur the necessary cost? Shall we then be so mindful of our common houses, deputed to such low occupations, and be forgetful toward that house of God, in which are expounded the words of our eternal salvation—in which are administered the sacraments and mysteries of our redemption?"—The persuasiveness of this argument is admirable, and its amiable tone and temper are infinitely more suitable than the florid appeal.

We also learn that Parliament has already voted a million and a half of money to the sole use of building churches, and that in the diocese in which Dorking is situated, thirty-two cases have been aided by the sum of 6,230l.

But the church of Dorking is in a dilapidated state, and is capable of containing only one-fifth of the inhabitants. It was "probably erected about the commencement of the twelfth century; and the crumbling walls may almost be said to totter under the massive roof." This calls forth the following pious exhortation: "Our lot is cast in a pleasant place. Let us manifest our thankfulness to the Giver of every good gift by a structure dedicated to his service, corresponding with the magnificence of private mansions, and the natural beauties of local scenery." We can only wonder that, in a neighbourhood abounding with men of rank and opulence, such an appeal is necessary.

SHORT-HAND

"Sound is the gauge of short-hand, and connexion the master-key for deciphering." Such is one of the axioms in Mr. Harding's eighth edition of his very valuable little "System of Short-Hand,"—to which, by way of pleasant illustration, he appends, the "Dirge on Miss LN G," copied by us from the "New Monthly Magazine;" but we give Mr. H. credit for the present application. We could write a whole number of the MIRROR on the advantages of short-hand to the community; but as that would not be a practical illustration, we desist. Only think of the "Times" newspaper being scores of miles from town before half London has risen; and the Duke of Bedford, reading the previous night's debates at his breakfast table at Woburn Abbey. What would all Mr. Applegath's machinery do towards producing the newspaper without the aid of short-hand, which makes its expedition second only to thought. Half an hour's delay of "the paper" makes us fret and fume and condemn the fair provider of our breakfast—for over-roasted coffee and stale eggs—all because the paper is not "come;" but when would it come without short-hand? why at dinner-time, and that would make short work of a day—for thousands cannot set to work till they have consulted it as a mainspring of action. People who aim at the short cuts to knowledge should study stenography, and for this purpose they will do well to provide themselves with Mr. Harding's System, which will be as good as "a cubit to a man's height."

LOVE'S MASTERY

She was his own, his all:—the crowd may proveA transient feeling, and misname it love:—His was a higher impulse; 'twas a partOf the warm blood that circled through his heart,A fervid energy, a spell that boundThoughts, wishes, feelings, in one hallow'd round.The Winter's Wreath.

CRUELTY TO ANIMALS

The second edition of a pamphlet, entitled the Voice of Humanity, has just reached us. It contains details of the disgusting cruelties of the metropolis—as bear and badger baiting, dog-fighting, slaughtering-horses, &c.—and reference to the abattoirs, or improved slaughter-houses for cattle, which was illustrated in our 296th Number. In the appendix are many interesting particulars of Smithfield Market and similar nuisances. The pamphlet is dedicated to that enlightened friend of humanity, Sir James Mackintosh, and it appears worthy of his patronage.

WOMANKIND

The womankind never looks sae bonnie as in wunter, accepp indeed it may be in spring. You auld bachelors ken naething o' womankind—and hoo should ye, when they treat you wi' but ae feelin', that o' derision? Oh, sirs! but the dear creters do look weel in muffs—whether they haud them, wi' their invisible hauns clasped thegither in their beauty within the cozy silk linin', close prest to their innicent waists, just aneath the glad beatins o' their first love-touched hearts. Or haud them hingin' frae their extended richt arms, leavin' a' the feegur visible, that seems taller and slimmer as the removed muff reveals the clasps o' the pelisse a' the way doon frae neck till feet! Then is there, in a' the beautifu' and silent unfauldin's o' natur amang plants and flowers, ony thing sae beautifu' as the white, smooth, saft chafts o' a bit smilin' maiden o' saxteen, aughteen, or twunty, blossomin' out, like some bonnie bud or snaw-white satin frae a coverin' o' rough leaves,—blossomin' out, sirs, frae the edge o' the fur-tippet, that haply a lover's happy haun had delicately hung ower her gracefu' shoothers—oh, the dear, delightfu' little Laplander!—Noctes—Blackwood's Magazine.

CAPTAIN ROCK

There are few of our readers who need to be informed that Captain Rock's Letters to the King are certainly not written by Mr. Moore, to whom, while the publication was suspended, they were so positively ascribed.—Q. Rev.

THE LIBRARY AT HOLKHAM

The manuscripts of Lord Coke are in the possession of his descendant, Mr. Coke, of Norfolk, his representative through the female issue of Lord Leicester, the male heir of the chief justice. At this gentleman's princely mansion of Holkham, is one of the finest collections, or, indeed, libraries of manuscripts anywhere preserved; certainly the finest in any private individual's possession. It partly consists of the chief justice's papers; the rest, and the bulk of it, was collected by that accomplished nobleman who built the mansion, the last male heir of the great lawyer. He had spent many years abroad, where his taste was improved and his general education perfected. He collected a vast number of the most valuable manuscripts. Of these the exquisitely illuminated missals, and other writings of a similar description, which would from their perfect beauty and great rarity bear the highest price in the market, are certainly by far the least precious in the eyes of literary men. Many of the finest codices of the Greek, Latin, and old Italian classics are to be found in this superb collection. Among others are no less than thirteen of Livy, a favourite author of Lord Leicester, whom he had made some progress in editing, when he learnt that Drakenborchius, the well known German critic, had proceeded further in the same task, and generously handed over to him the treasures of his library. The excellent edition of that commentator makes constant reference to the Holkham manuscripts, under the name of MSS. Lovelliana, from the title of Lovell; Lord Leicester not having then been promoted to the earldom. Mr. Coke, with a becoming respect for the valuable collection of his ancestors, was desirous to have the manuscripts unfolded, bound, and arranged, both with a view to their preservation and to the facility of consulting them. They had lain for half a century neglected, and in part verging towards decay, when he engaged his valued friend, William Roscoe, to undertake the labour so congenial to his taste and habits, of securing these treasures from the ravages of time. From the great number of the manuscripts, the state in which many of them were, and the distance of Mr. Roscoe's residence, this was necessarily a work of time. After above ten years employed on it, the task is now finished. Each work is beautifully and classically bound; and to each Mr. Roscoe has prefixed, in his own fair hand writing, a short account of the particular manuscript, with the bibliographical learning appertaining to it.—Library of Useful Knowledge.

PHRENOLOGY

Mr. Crook, of the Phrenological Society, has just published a "Compendium of Phrenology," which cannot fail to be acceptable to the ingenious inquirers after that very ingenious science. It is a lucid little arrangement of principles, and will materially assist them; but, for our part, we confess we would sooner take the public opinion of the contents of our cranium than that of a whole society of phrenologists; and if our head be as full as our sheet, we shall be content. But, joking apart, the little synopsis before us cannot be too highly recommended; and by way of hint to some friends who send us witty articles for "the Gatherer," we take the following:—

"Wit. Primitive Power. Perception of the disjunction or incongruity of ideas; the analytical faculty. Uses: Separation of compound or general ideas into those that are elementary or more simple; knowledge of characteristic differences and discrepance. Abuses: A disposition to jest or ridicule; irony, sarcasm, and satire, without respect to truth, or the circumstances of person, place, or time. Organ, on the other side of Causality.

"It is not the definition of Wit, but the function of a particular portion of the brain at which I aim. Dr. Spurzheim, in some of his works, calls the faculty connected with this organ, 'the feeling of the ludicrous;' in his later ones, 'Gayness,' and 'Mirthfulness.' But each of these is properly an effect, not a primitive power. The ludicrous owes its origin to the contrariety between the parts or means, as perceived by this faculty, and the general whole, or purpose, perceived by Comparison, or the necessary connexion perceived by Causality; and Gaiety, Mirth, and Laughter, arise from the mutual influence and reaction of the feelings. Some kinds of contrariety or incongruity excite one class of feelings, other kinds altogether different feelings; and consequently, according to the faculty or combination of faculties affected, the kinds of mirth and laughter are varied from the Sardonic grin of Destructiveness to the lover's smile. This view of the origin of laughter enables us to give a satisfactory answer to the hitherto perplexing question, 'Why is man the only laughing animal?'"