The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 17, No. 495, June 25, 1831

Observation had demonstrated to the moderns that no large river emptied itself into the ocean on the north-west coast, though it required a more accurate acquaintance with the Senegal and the Gambia before it was fully ascertained that they were not the outlets of this great stream. The progress of navigation along the south-eastern shores of Africa also showed that no large river emptied itself into the sea along that coast; while the settlements of the Portuguese on the coast to the south of Cape Lopez, led them, at an early period, to adopt the opinion afterwards supported by Mungo Park and Mr. Barrow, that one or more of the rivers in their vicinity were the outlets of the great river of the interior of Africa. Two celebrated geographers, D'Anville and Major Rennell, however, espoused the theory of the waters emptying themselves into the Wangara, or great marsh; which argument underwent various modifications in the hands of different geographers; and though the probability of its emptying itself into the Gulf of Guinea had been pointed out on the continent, and vigorously supported in this country, an expedition was fitted out to explore the Congo or Zaire, which, though unfortunate to the individuals concerned, was yet satisfactory in a geographical point of view, and demonstrated that the rivers south of Cape Lopez were not the outlets of the waters of the Niger, and gave origin to a speculation which partook of all the characters of a romance of the desert, beneath the sands of which its author buried the gigantic stream, loaded with the waters of the Wangara or Lake Tchad, to make it flow into the Mediterranean at the Syrtis of the ancients.

In the history of geography there are no examples of greater perseverance and courageous determination than in the efforts made to triumph over the difficulties presented in the solution of this important question. Since 1815, there has scarcely a year passed in which a new attempt has not been made; and of these, if we recede a little farther back, twenty-five were made by our countrymen, fourteen by Frenchmen, two by Americans, and one by a German; of which but a small number, since the days of Houghton, have not fallen victims to their heroic devotion.

Mungo Park first observed the direction of the stream which had become as much an object of discussion as its termination; and, strange to say, after the present discovery, it will, in some parts of its course, still remain so. The unfortunate traveller just alluded to, previous to his descent of the river, obtained some information from Moors and from negroes, on its course by Timbuctoo. The Jinnie of Park is synonymous with Jenné, Giné, Dhjenné, of other writers, as Jenné has again been confounded with Kano or Kanno. It may be a figurative term—for the Jinnie of Park was on an island, as was the Jenné of the Moorish reports, while the Jenné of some travellers is at a short distance from the river. This cannot be the case with regard to Timbuctoo, which is visited by caravans twice a year from Morocco; nor is the name met with any where, except the two first syllables in the town of Timbo, which cannot be mistaken for Timbuctoo.

Major Laing had discovered the source of the Niger to be in the mountains of Loma, in 9 deg. 15 min. west latitude, and had ascertained its course for a short distance from its source. We were also aware of the existence of one or two streams joining the great river, or branching from it near Timbuctoo. De Lisle had marked a river Gambarra, on his maps drawn up for Louis XV., and not without good authority. This is the river coming from Houssa; and the Joliba of modern travellers is a river, we could prove, from the concurring testimony of a variety of sources, coming from the north-west, and joining its waters with, that is to say flowing into the Niger, in the immediate neighbourhood of Timbuctoo; still at that point the Kowarra, or Quorra of the Moors, or Quolla of the Negroes, who always change the r for l a name which, according to Laing, it has at its sources—according to Clapperton, it preserves beyond Timbuctoo, and is probably still the name of the same stream at its embouchure in the Bight of Biafra. The Quarrama is another tributary stream which passes by Saccatoo, and falls into the Quorra above Youri, and above the point where Mungo Park was wrecked; and the line of country between this river and the Shashum, comprising the hills of Doochee, of Naroo, and of Dull, is the line of water-shed to the rivers joining the Quorra on the one hand, and those emptying themselves into the Wangara on the other. The course given by Sultan Bello, and the information obtained by Major Denham, both pointed out a river coursing to the east, which is probably the branch followed by the Landers: for its termination in Lake Tchad had not even the air of probability; though it is not, on the other-hand, at all improbable that other branches empty themselves into the Bight of Benin, by the rivers Formosa or Volta, according to information given to Captain Clapperton and Major Laing.

We had intended to embody some remarks upon the pretended journey of Caillié; but we find we have already occupied too much space in details necessary to make the geographical nature of the question well understood; and we shall content ourselves with remarking, that the discovery of the termination of the Quorra, or Niger, tends to throw a degree of improbability upon the narrative of that individual, which it will require much ingenuity to explain away. It is certain that the latitude given to Timbuctoo by the editor of those travels, and upon which sufficient ridicule has already been thrown in the Edinburgh Geographical Journal, may be considered as an error entirely of the editor's, who, by taking it upon himself, will relieve the burden of the mistake from the traveller, and thus lighten the weighty doubts which might in consequence bear upon the remainder of the details; for the situation of that city, as given by Jomard, is quite inconsistent with the situation it must be in, from the ascertained source, direction, and termination of the river. There can be no doubt but that a portion of the labours presented to the public as the travels of Caillié are founded upon valid documents, wherever obtained, and probably most of the errors are those of the editor. But though authorities can be found in support of the division of the Quorra into two branches; one of which, the Joliba, flows to the north-west, and the other in an almost opposite direction,—fact which has no analogy in geography, and, what is better, no existence in nature; yet no authority can be found for placing Timbuctoo on a river flowing north from the Niger.

The details which will be given to us by the results of this successful expedition will, then, not only be of assistance in allying the existing condition of things with the knowledge of the ancients, but it will enable us to reduce to a few facts the many contradictory statements which have originated in the variety of the sources of information, and the individual and national rivalry which the interest of the question gave birth to among the geographers of the present day. It will also be of importance, as it was connected with a great question, as to the possibility of a large river traversing an extensive continent, or losing itself in a marsh or lake, or being buried in the extensive sands of the desert. By laying open the interior of Africa to us, it will increase our political strength and commercial advantages on those coasts;—it will enable us to put into practice an amelioration long contemplated by Mr. Barrow, in the choice of our settlements on those coasts;—it will place the greatest and most important vent of the barbarous and inhuman traffic of negroes in our possession; and it will enable us to diffuse the benefits of superior intelligence among an ignorant and suffering people.—Literary Gazette.

SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS

DISAGREEABLES

BY THE ETTRICK SHEPHERD

"For four things the earth is disquieted, and five which it cannot bear."      AGUR.

This world is a delightful place to dwell in,And many sweet and lovely things are in it;Yet there are sundry, at the which I haveA natural dislike, against all reason.I never like A TAILOR. Yet no manLikes a new coat or inexpressiblesBetter than I do—few, I think, so well:I can't account for this. The tailor is,A far more useful member of societyThan is a poet;—then his sprightly wit,His glee, his humour, and his happy mindEntitle him to fair esteem. Allowed.But then, his self-sufficiency;—his shapeSo like a frame, whereon to hang a suitOf dandy clothes;—his small straight back and arms,His thick bluff ankles, and his supple knees,Plague on't!—'Tis wrong—I do not like a tailor.AN OLD BLUE-STOCKING MAID! Oh! that's a being,That's hardly to be borne. Her saffron hue,Her thinnish lips, close primmed as they were sewnUp by a milliner, and made water-proof,To guard the fount of wisdom that's within.Her borrowed locks, of dry and withered hue,Her straggling beard of ill-condition'd hairs,And then her jaws of wise and formal cast;Chat-chat—chat-chat! Grand shrewd remarks!That may have meaning, may have none for me.I like the creature so supremely ill,I never listen, never calculate.I know this is ungenerous and unjust:I cannot help it; for I do dislikeAn old blue-stocking maid even to extremity.I do protest I'd rather kiss a tailor.A GREEDY EATER! He is worst of all.The gourmand bolts and bolts, and smacks his chops—Eyes every dish that enters, with a stareOf greed and terror, lest one thing go by him.The glances that he casts along the board,At every slice that's carved, have that in themBeyond description. I would rather dineBeside an ox—yea, share his cog of draff;Or with a dog, if he'd keep his own side;Than with a glutton on the rarest food.A thousand times I've dined upon the waste,On dry-pease bannock, by the silver spring.O, it was sweet—was healthful—had a zest;Which at the paste my palate ne'er enjoyed.My bonnet laid aside, I turned mine eyesWith reverence and humility to heaven,Craving a blessing from the bounteous Giver;Then grateful thanks returned. There was a joyIn these lone meals, shared by my faithful dog,Which I remind with pleasure, and has givenA verdure to my spirit's age. Then thinkOf such a man, beside a guzzler set;And how his stomach nauseates the repast."When he thinks of days he shall never more see.Of his cake and his cheese, and his lair on the lea,His laverock that hung on the heaven's ee-bree,His prayer and his clear mountain rill."I cannot eat one morsel. There is that,Somewhere within, that balks each bold attempt;A loathing—a disgust—a something worse:I know not what it is. A strong desireTo drink, but not for thirst. 'Tis from a wishTo wash down that enormous eater's food—A sympathetic feeling. Not of love!And be there ale, or wine, or potent draughtSuperior to them both, to that I fly,And glory in the certainty that mineIs the ethereal soul of food, while hisIs but the rank corporeal—the vile husksBest suited to his crude voracity.And far as the bright spirit may transcendIts mortal frame, my food transcendeth his.A CREDITOR! Good heaven, is there beneathThy glorious concave of cerulean blue,A being formed so thoroughly for dislike,As is a creditor? No, he's supreme,The devil's a joke to him! Whoe'er has seenAn adder's head upraised, with gleaming eyes,About to make a spring, may form a shadeOf mild resemblance to a creditor.I do remember once—'tis long agone—Of stripping to the waist to wade the Tyne—The English Tyne, dark, sluggish, broad, and deep;And just when middle-way, there caught mine eye,A lamprey of enormous size pursuing me!L– what a fright! I bobb'd, I splashed, I flew.He had a creditor's keen, ominous look,I never saw an uglier—but a real one.This is implanted in man's very nature,It cannot be denied. And once I deemed itThe most degrading stain our nature bore:Wearing a shade of every hateful vice,Ingratitude, injustice, selfishness.But I was wrong, for I have traced the streamBack to its fountain in the inmost cave,And found in postulate of purest grain,It's first beginning.—It is not the man,The friend who has obliged us, we would shun,But the conviction which his presence brings,That we have done him wrong:—a sense of griefAnd shame at our own rash improvidence:The heart bleeds for it, and we love the manWhom we would shun. The feeling's hard to bear.A BLUSTERING FELLOW! There's a deadly bore,Placed in a good man's way, who only yearnsFor happiness and joy. But day by day,This blusterer meets me, and the hope's defaced.I cannot say a word—make one remark,That meets not flat and absolute contradiction—I nothing know on earth—am misinformedOn every circumstance. The very terms,Scope, rate, and merits of my own transactionsAre all to me unknown, or falsified,Of which most potent proof can be adduced.Then the important thump upon the board,Snap with the thumb, and the disdainful 'whew!'Sets me and all I say at less than naught.What can a person do?—To knock him downSuggests itself, but then it breeds a rowIn a friend's house, or haply in your own,Which is much worse; for glasses go like cinders;The wine is spilled—the toddy. The chair-backsGo crash! No, no, there's nothing but forbearance,And mark'd contempt. If that won't bring him down,There's nothing will. Ah! can the leopard changeHis spots, or the grim Ethiop his hue?Sooner they may and nature change her course,Than can a blusterer to a modest man:He still will stand a beacon of dislike.A fool—I wish all blustering chaps were dead,That's the true bathos to have done with them.Fraser's Magazine

THE GATHERER

A snapper up of unconsidered trifles.SHAKSPEARE.

GAD'S HILL

Gad's Hill, not far from Chatham, was formerly a noted place for depredations on seamen, after they had received their pay at the latter place. The following robbery was committed there in or verging on the year 1676: About four o'clock one morning, a gentleman was robbed by one Nicks, on a bay mare, just as he was on the declivity of the hill, on the west side. Nicks rode away, and as he said, was stopped nearly an hour by the difficulty of getting a boat, to enable him to cross the river; but he made the best use of it as a kind of bait to his horse. From thence he rode across the county of Essex to Chelmsford. Here he stopped about an hour to refresh his horse, and give the animal a ball;—from thence to Braintree, Bocking, and Withersfield; thence over the Downs to Cambridge; and from thence, keeping still the cross roads, he went by Fenny Stratford, 9 to Godmanchester and Huntingdon, where he and his mare baited about an hour; and, as he said himself, he slept about half an hour: then holding on the north road, and keeping a full gallop most of the way, he came to York the same afternoon; put off his boots and riding clothes, and went dressed as if he had been an inhabitant of the place, to the bowling-green, where, among many other gentlemen, was the Lord Mayor of the city. He, singling out his lordship, studied to do something particular that the mayor might remember him, and then took occasion to ask him what o'clock it was. The mayor, pulling out his watch, told him the time, which was a quarter before, or a quarter after eight at night. Upon a prosecution for this robbery, the whole merit of the case turned upon this single point:—the person robbed, swore to the man, to the place, and to the time, in which the robbery was committed; but Nicks, proving by the Lord Mayor of York, that he was as far off as Yorkshire at that time, the jury acquitted him on the bare supposition, that the man could not be at two places so remote on one and the same day.

I need not remind your numerous readers that the roads in 1676 were in a very different plight to those of 1831; at the former period it would not have been possible for Tom Thumb to have trotted sixteen miles an hour on any turnpike road in England. Even my friend, the respected driver of the Old Union Cambridge Coach to London, can remember, in his time, the coach being two days on the road, and occasionally being indebted to farmers for the loan of horses to drag the coach wheels out of their sloughy tracks.

J.S.W

DIGNIFIED REPROOF

Catherine Parthenay, niece of the celebrated Anna Parthenay, returned this spirited reply to the importunities of Henry IV.—"Your majesty must know, that although I am too humble to become your wife, I am at the same time descended from too illustrious a family ever to become your mistress."

P

L—A—W

The circumlocution and diffuseness of law papers—the apparent redundancy of terms, and multiplicity of synonymes, which may be found on all judicial proceedings, are happily hit off in the following, which we copy from Jenk's New York Evening Journal:—

"A LAWYER'S STORY.—Tom strikes Dick over the shoulders with a rattan as big as your little finger. A lawyer would tell you the story something in this way:—And that, whereas the said Thomas, at the said Providence, in the year and day aforesaid, in and upon the body of the said Richard, in the peace of God and the State, then and there being, did make a most violent assault and inflicted a great many and divers blows, kicks, cuffs, thumps, bumps, contusions, gashes, wounds, hurts, damages, and injuries, in and upon the head, neck, breast, stomach, lips, knees, shins, and heels of the said Richard, with divers sticks, staves, canes, poles, clubs, logs of wood, stones, guns, dirks, swords, daggers, pistols, cutlasses, bludgeons, blunderbusses, and boarding pikes, then and there held in the hands, fists, claws, and clutches of him the said Thomas."

WATERLOO—"FORGET ME NOT."

"On one of these graves I observed the little wild blue flower, known by the name of 'Forget me not'."—Visit to the Field of Waterloo.

No marble tells, nor columns rise,To bid the passing stranger mourn,Where valour fought, and bled, and died,From friends and life abruptly torn.Yet on the earth that veils10 their heads,Where bravest hearts are doom'd to rot,This simple flower, with meek appeal,Prefers the prayer "Forget me not."Forget! forbid my heart respondsWhile bending o'er the hero's grave—Forbid that e'er oblivion's gloomShould shade the spot where rest the brave.Fond kindred at this awful shrineWill oft, with footsteps faltering,Approach and drop the pious tear—Sad Memory's purest offering.And well their country marks those deeds—The land that gave each bosom fire:Deeds that her proudest triumph won,But gaining, saw her sons expire.And ages hence will Britain's sons,As trophied tributes meet their view,Admire, exult—yet mourn the pangsThese glories cost, at Waterloo.D

SWORD PRESENTED BY THE KING TO THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON, ON THE ANNIVERSARY OF WATERLOO

On the hilt, and executed in high relief, are branches of oak surrounding the crown. The bark of the branches are opening, which display the words—"India, Copenhagen, Peninsula, and Waterloo." The top part of the scabbard exhibits his majesty's arms, initials, and crown; the middle of the scabbard exhibits the arms and orders of the Duke of Wellington on the one side, and on the reverse his batons. The lower end has the thunderbolt and wings, the whole surrounded with oak leaves and laurel, with a rich foliage, in which was introduced the flower of the Lotus. The blade exhibits, in has relief, his majesty's arms, initials, and crown; the arms, orders, and batons, of the Duke of Wellington, Hercules taming the tiger, the thunderbolt, the British colours bound up with the caduceus and fasces, surrounded by laurel, and over them the words—"India, Copenhagen, Peninsula, and Waterloo," terminating with a sheathed sword, surrounded by laurel and palm.

ODDITIES

Fashion-mongers make odd work with language. Thus, we read of Mrs. Ravenshaw giving a "petit" souper to about 150 of the haut ton.

The Court Journal, too, tells us that a few days since Lord Lansdowne met with "a severe accident," by which "he suffered no material injury."

The Queen's dress at her last ball was "white and silver, striped with blue." The song says—

To be nice about triflesIs trifling and folly;—

but the modistes can gather little from such a description as the above.

In the Zoological Gardens is a pheasant, one of whose feathers measures 5 feet 11 inches in length!

A "Charming Fellow,"—The records of the Horticultural Society inform us that Lady Cochrane has been elected "a Fellow of the Society."

VEDI PAGANINI E MORISee Paganini, and then die!I beg to tell a different story;And to the bowing crowd I cry,See Paganini, and then Mori!Court Journal

In a List of New Books and Reprints we find one by "Bishop Home; in silk, 2s. 6d."

Epitaph on Spenser.

In Spenserum.

Famous alive and dead, here is the odds,Then god of poets, now poet of the gods.

The Philomathic Society of Warsaw have elected Mr. Campbell a corresponding member, as "Campbell Tomes Poète Anglais."—Literary Gazette.

Anatomy.—The price for unopened subjects in Paris is 5 francs, or 4s. 2d.; and 3 francs, or 2s. 6d. for opened ones.—Lancet.

THE LORD CHANCELLOR

Vol. XVII. of the MIRROR,

With a Steel-plate Portrait of this illustrious Individual, Memoir, &c., 50 Engravings, and 450 closely printed Pages, will be published on the 30th instant, price 5s. 6d. boards.

Part 110, price 10d., will be ready on the same day.

The Supplementary Number will contain the above Portrait, a copious Memoir, Title-page, Index, &c; and, from its extension beyond the usual space, will be published at 4d.

Printed and published by J LIMBIRD, 143, Strand, (near Somerset House,) London; sold by ERNEST FLEISCHER, 626, New Market, Leipsic; G.G. BENNIS, 55, Rue Neuve, St. Augustin, Paris; and by all Newsmen and Booksellers.

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1

See Mirror, No 475.

2

Langhorne's Plutarch, vol. i. p. xv.—Limbird's edition.]

3

The common food of the poor.

4

Bacon, iii. 409.

5

Ibid. iii. 380.

6

See examples in Bacon, iii.

7

Bacon, iii. 382.

8

Ibid. 381.

9

Fenny, or Fen Stanton, not Stratford, must be here meant, as the former is in the direct road from Cambridge to Huntingdon.

10

The layer of earth scarce covers the bodies, so may be called a veil.