by profession, in a state of the most desponding hopelessness: a thing which an antiquarian might perhaps discover to have once been a table, was stationed in the middle of the garret, a few unfinished papers and manuscripts were scattered about the uncarpeted floor in every direction, and the unfortunate owner of these curiosities had neither pens, ink, paper, nor credit, to continue his lucubrations. It was about this time, when threatened to be turned out of his literary pig-sty, that he applied to Richardson, the celebrated novelist, for assistance, who instantly sent him five pounds, a sum which relieved him from misery and a dungeon. Poor Goldsmith was once seated in his garret, where the Deserted Village was written, in familiar conversation with a friend, when his pride was considerably annoyed by the abrupt entrance of the little girl of the house, with "Pray, Mr. Goldsmith, can you lend Mrs. -a chamber-pot full of coals;" the mortified poet was obliged to return an answer in the negative, and endure the friendly but sarcastic condolence of his companion. In a garret either in the Old Bailey, or in Green-arbor court, the exquisite "Citizen of the World," and equally celebrated "Vicar of Wakefield," were written. Of the last mentioned work, the following ludicrous anecdote is not, we believe, generally known: While Goldsmith was completing the closing pages of his novel, he was roused from his occupation by the unexpected appearance of his landlady, to whom he was considerably in arrears, with a huge bill for the last few weeks' lodgings. The poet was thunderstruck with surprise and consternation; he was unable to answer her demands, either then or in future; at length the lady relieved the nature of his embarrassment, by offering to remit the liquidation of the debt, provided he would accept her as his true and lawful spouse. His friend Dr. Johnson chanced by great good luck to come in at the time, and by advancing him a sufficient sum to defray the expenses of his establishment, consisting of only himself and a dirty shirt, relieved him from his matrimonial shackles. A literary friend once called to pay Fielding a visit, and found him in a miserable garret, without either furniture or convenience, seated on a gin tub turned up for a table, with a common trull by his side, and a balf-emptied glass of brandy and water in his hand. This was the idea of consummate happiness, entertained by the immortal author of Tom Jones; by him whose genius handed down to posterity the inimitable character of Square, with his "eternal fitness of things." A French poet and his family, (we forget their names,) being unable to procure subsistence by their literary exertions, came to the somewhat novel expedient of anticipating the period of their starvation. They blocked up the door of their garret with the miserable remnants of their furniture, and locked in each other's arms, with their little children starving by their side, coolly awaiting the period of their final release from the thraldom of existence. In the last hours of sinking nature, the door of their garret was forcibly burst open, and their friend entered, and beheld the parents dying and the children dead. With some difficulty the former were restored to health, and lived to behold a youth of misery obliterated in an old age of honour and happiness. Our modern Bloomfield, of rural and pastoral celebrity, wrote his "Farmer's Boy" in a garret occupied by shoemakers, and pursued his poetical occupation amid the din of arms and the clattering of heels. Collins composed his odes in some such miserable dwelling; and to complete the grand climax of intellect, and for ever immortalize the name and reminiscences of a garret, this prodigious exertion of Wit, this beautiful article of the Portfolio, was written in one. Unfortunately these celebrated abodes of genius, these upper stories, like as other old and dull stories, are now waxen stale and out of fashion. Authors are no longer measured by their leanness, poets are no longer skinny, and Parnassus is no longer a bleak, desolate, and chilly clime. A mine of gold has lately been discovered in it, the principal proprietors of which are Scott, Byron, and Moore, who dig out the ore, to the exclusion of atmost all the other respectable landholders of the mountain. Byron of late has been the most successful in his labours, he has recently dug up a rich piece of gold, "Don Juan," but which at present is mixed with metal of baser alloy when, however, it has gone through the hands of the refiner, it may be rendered extremely productive to the finances, and creditable to the exertions of the noble and ingenious discoverer. It appears then the old story of Mount Parnassus, that it afforded from its elevated summits, an unimpeded view of the Parish Workhouse, it is no longer to be considered as possessing the merit even of veracity. Whether it is that the shrubs on the margin of the Castalian fountain have obstructed the former landscape, we are not prepared to assert, but are extremely fatigued with our long residence in a garret, and shall beg leave to come down and finish the chapter, which some time or another we may perhaps be induced to continue. (To be Continued.) THE MISERIES OF A BREAK- I WAS passing through one of the squares, about the witching hour of night, with nothing of the spirit of adventure about me, when I encountered an overturned coach. The "membra disjecta," as Ovid would say, lay all around; a wheel, escaped from the axle-tree, had rolled to a little distance, as if to establish its own independence; the dickey had taken the same road, but from greater ponderosity was less prepared for flight, and had fallen something short of its more lively companion, and was pulled on this side, and on that, by the horses; who, in this second chaos, had been released from the harness, and were picking out a little hay which yet remained of the morning's store. In the midst of the general wreck, where Desolation might have fixed her seat, stood Coachee, like Hannibal amid the ruins of Carthage, scratching his head, which is well known to be the appropriate gesticulation of despair. The vehicle itself lay quiet enough; black and huge as it looked in the darkness of the night, but every now and then there burst from it, an angry storm ofwords, which threatened, like a volcano, any nearer approach, and awed Jehu into deference and distance, as effectually as if it had been a Congreve rocket, The unhappy charioteer came up to me, and with a very embarrassed air, said, "Here's a pretty business for a poor fellow; my axle-tree broken, my fare lost, and scolded to boot" which of all these calamities he rated highest I do not mean to say. I offered my assistance to the inmates of the prostrate carriage, and instantly there was a storm of thanks flung at me from the interior by an old lady, who, I learned, was returning from the theatre, with a cortege of misses under her charge, By the assistance of the driver, she was hauled out by the door on the upper side of the coach, to relieve the poor girls of her weight; for contrary to all the natural propensities of gravity, she had unaccountably remained on the high quarter of her prison. I stood below, to receive this goodly piece of merchan dize in my arms; and while she made a thousand apologies, had leisure to survey this windfall-this deodand-which, as far as I could judge, had no one quality that we would expect from above, except that, like the moon stones, she would come to the ground by her own weight. "O, Sir," she wined out, in the most piano style imaginable, "you are too good!" but the pathos was arrested by the approach of the coachman, to render his assistance, whom she instantly attacked with all the good-will that fame "Ah! you nasty seizes gunpowder. rogue, do you think to coax me, after nearly committing murder, with your vile crockery shay?-But I a'n't done with you yet, if there's justice in Essexstreet, or law in Bow-street." I entreated she would make no further excuses: for my benevolence was now agog, and ment. The Because thou hast hearkened unto the voice of thy wife, and hast eaten of the tree, of which 1 commanded thee, saying, Thou shalt not eat of it; cursed is the ground for thy sake, &c. GEN. iii, 17. HOLBEIN has begun the scenes of life by that which had such influence on all the rest. The Mother of the human race holds in her right hand, the fatal apple, which she has just received from the serpent with a young man's head; and Adam, at the same time, is plucking another, enticed by the solicitations of the too credulous Eve, who shows him the one she has received. The above are the first of a series of embellishments by the celebrated BEWICK to Holbein's Dance of Death, intended to be continued in our subsequent Numbers. For some account of this extraordinary work, see page 258 AN INFERNAL RENCONTRE. ONE fine summer morning, as some of the workmen employed in the Ballycastle collieries were proceeding from their houses to their daily labour, (a distance of about a mile and a half,) near the mouth of one of the pits, they discovered a man lying apparently dead at the foot of an immense precipice, down which he had evidently fallen; but on examining the body, they recognised the gauger of that district, a very conscientious man, who considered that the surest mode of fulfilling his oath, (to suppress illicit distillation,) was to destroy as much of that unlawful spirit as lay in his own power, for which purpose he made it a rule, both in his own house and those of his friends, to drink at least eight tumblers of the potent juice every night. Being extremely zealous in performing what he conceived his duty, on the preceding evening, at a friend's house, he destroyed three tumblers more than his usual quantum, and which three glasses endued with that inexorable spirit, which always revenges itself in some shape on the unfortunate wight who destroys too much of its exhilarating liquor at one time, on his way home, which lay along very narrow and dangerous path, formed in the face of that stupendous headland, seized upon the poor gauger's brain, and hurled him down the precipice where he then lay, asleep and stunned with the fall. Moved by compassion, the poor men resolved not to leave the wretched being there, yet knew not what to do with him, as they had not time to carry him back to their own houses: at length agreeing that it would be better to take him into the pit, than to let him remain where he then lay, they carefully removed him and laid him on some straw in a dry part of the pit, while they went to their own work. Some other colliers a short time afterwards passing by, perceiving a stranger sleeping in such a situation, drew near, and wakened the poor gauger, who, staring with both his mouth and eyes wide open, at the extraordinary figures before him, kuew not what to make of them, (as they were dressed in their short black frocks, with lamps burning in the front of their caps, and pick-axes and other implements in their hands;) at last, having rubbed his eyes two or three times, and raised himself up as quickly as his ་ bruises would permit, the effect of the spirits and fall operating together, he conceived himself in the infernal regions, and thus answered their demand of Who he was, and what brought him there? "May it please your majesty, I was the gauger of Bally-castle in the other world, but I am ready to be any thing your honour pleases in this one." The colliers having kept up the joke for some time, at length with difficulty convinced him of his real situation, and having conducted him to the surface, advised him not to take that dangerous path again, which he declared he never would, although it was so much shorter, for when he was drunk, it never was the length, but the breadth of the road that bothered him. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. MR. RICHARD PAYNE KNIGHT. THIS gentleman was eminent both as a scholar and a poet, and was also a good judge of the fine arts. He was eminently skilled and generally consulted in every material point of virtu and taste in the metropolis; he rebuilt the mansion of his family at Downton, and disposed the adjacent grounds in the best style of classic decoration and fine effect; and he erected a museum in Soho-square for his splendid collection of ancient bronzes, medals, pictures, and drawings. He was a well-qualified and gratuitous contributor to the Edinburgh Review, his ample fortune placing him above all considerations of pecuniary recompense. He was ready to afford information on all subjects of learning which were subImitted to his judgment, and his observations were generally marked by intelligence and acuteness. From his deep researches into the most abstruse and difficult subjects of the Pagan mythology, some persons, who were not suf ficiently learned to understand the nature, application, and objects of those researches, have supposed that his moral and religious principles were feeble and unfixed; but whoever has read the preface to his last production, the Romance of Alfred, must have discovered how very erroneous was that opinion. He represented the borough of Ludlow in several successive parliaments. In politics he was a genuine Whig, and was therefore unfriendly to the administration of Mr. Pitt and his successors. his manners he was reserved, yet not repulsive; warm in his friendship, and social in his disposition. He died in the 76th year of his age, unmarried, leaving In to the British Museum (or in other words, to the public) his valuable collection of works of art. MR. HENRY SMART. This skilful musician was an elève of Mr. Cramer, and so far profited by the instructions which he received, that he was readily admitted into various orchestras. At the opening of the English Opera-House he was engaged as leader, and continued in that capacity for several years. When the present Drury-lane Theatre was opened, he was also engaged as leader; and we believe it was his peculiar pride to form that orchestra entirely of English artists; and in such estimation did they hold his character, that on his retirement from the theatre in 1821, they presented him with a silver cup, as a mark of their gratitude and his merit. In 1820, he entered into a piano-forte manufactory, and lately obtained a patent for an important improvement in the touch of that instrument. In his nature he was kind, generous, and humane, and private respect was added to the public sense of his merit. ORIGIN OF BALLOONS. From Dr. Cootes's History of England. WHILE philosophical investigators were endeavouring to augment the stock of general knowledge, and adventurers were traversing the seas for the purposes of discovery, other enterprising men devised the means of aërial navigation. Our countrymen do not claim the honour of the first attempt of this kind. Our Gallic neighbours gave the example of aërostatic experiment; and an Italian named Lunardi was the first individual who ascended into the air from any part of this island. The principle on which these attempts were founded, had long been known to philosophers; and even the unlearned knew that a bubble, or any thing lighter than common air, would ascend in it. Two brothers of the name of Montgolfier, manufacturers of paper, at length conceived the idea of sending up a bag or ballon, full of heated air; and, in repeated trials, it ascended to a considerable height, till the evaporation of the rarefied air, its refrigeration and condensation, or the decrease of the density of the atmosphere, occasioned a gradual descent. To a balloon which arose from Versailles, a wicker cage was] annexed, containing a duck, a cock, and a sheep; and these animals safely descended in a neighbouring wood. M. de Rosier now risqued an ascension, but not without the precaution of having the balloon secured by ropes. He afterwards disdained this security, and undertook a free navigation through the air,* in company with the marquis d'Arlandes, elevating or lowering the machine at pleasure, by increasing or diminishing the fire in a brazier appendant to the balloon. The next experiment, less dangerous from the nature of the enclosed air, was made with an elastic fluid much less heavy than heated air, consequently better adapted for the inflation of any balloon to which a great weight was suspended. Messieurs Charles and Robert produced inflammable air by pouring diluted acid of vitriol upon filings of iron, and floated in the atmosphere for two hours under a balloon thus filled. Other ascensions from different parts of France, excited the astonishment of the people. At length Vincenzo Lunardi resolved, in 1784, to gratify the English with a similar spectacle. Having filled a bag made of oiled silk (of which the diameter was thirty-three feet) with inflammable air from vitriolic acid and zinc, he stationed himself in a kind of gallery, rose majestically from the Artillery-ground in the suburbs of London, and descended near Ware. One of our countrymen soon followed the adventurous example. Mr. Sheldon, the anatomist, accompanied M. Blanchard, a distinguished French aëronaut, in an atmospheric voyage from Chelsea. The latter afterwards ascended from Dover with Dr. Jefferies, soared over the channel, and arrived in France without personal injury. As a medium of conveyance from one place or country to another, a balloon will never, perhaps, be applicable to general use, from the impossibility of giving to its progress that direction which the traveller would choose, and from the extraordinary danger which attends this species of loco-motion; and, though it may be occasionally employed for the illustration of pneumatics, and some other branches of natural philosophy, it is not probable that any high degree of scientific improvement will ever result from aërial voyages. The superstitious may consider these attempts as arrogant and impious transgressions of the bounds assigned to us by our Creator: but it cannot be more improper, or more wicked, to explore the air with a balloon, than to view through a telescope the planetary system; and we have no prospect of On the 21st of November, 1783,This ingenious and intrepid philosopher lost his life in 1785, being thrown to the earth from a great height, in consequence of the sudden eruption of flames from his balloon. discovering any secrets with which the Almighty would wish us to be unac quainted. Whatever may be the fruit of such enterprises, there is something wonderfully sublime in the experiment. The adven turer seems to approach that celestial world to which his religion has taught him to look forward, as the last retreat of piety and virtue: his ideas, we may suppose, are purified from the grossness of vulgar thought; and, if the dread of peril be excluded, his soul must be elevated with rapture, while his heart expands with joy and admiration. NURSERY RHYMES, To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts, that do often lie too deep for tears. SWEET are the dreams of childhood, but sweeter the strains that delight its early ears!* We would give any thing to recall those pleasant times, when we thought Jack Horner finer than any thing in Shakespeare. And sometimes we think so still! What a poet was he who composed all these sweet nursery verses!-the violet bed not sweeter!— Yet he died "without a name!" How unintelligible they are, and yet how easily understood! They are like Wordsworth, (but, ok, how unlike!) and we admire them for the same reason that we do him. How many young lips have breathed out these "snatches of old songs," making the breeze about them "discourse. most eloquent music!". Wherever these rhymes "do love to haunt, the air is delicate." Let us try to make them "as palpable to the feeling" of others, as they are to our own. We We once said in Constable's Magazine, that " to be an Edinburgh reviewer was the highest distinction in literary society;" because, about that time, we began to write in the Edinburgh_Review. were proud of it then, and we are so yet; but it is a finer thing now. One could not then be radical, if one would. Now it is tout au contraire. Whigs and Ra dicals have met together-Jeffrey and Hunt have embraced each other; and it is right they should. Jeffrey is the "Prince of Critics, and King of Men," just as Leigh Hunt is King of Cockaigne, by divine right. They are your only true legitimates. They are like the two * Quære, years -Printer's devil. + Mr.Hazlitt here omits the name of another sovereign, of whom he thus speaketh in the Edinburgh Review-" The Scotsmau is an excellent paper, with but one subject-Political Economy; but the Editor may be said to be King of it." But perhaps he bethought him afterwards, that, to be "King of one subject," was no very brilliant sovereignty. |