« السابقةمتابعة »
TO ASSIST THE ENQUIRING, ANIMATE THE STRUGGLING, AND SYMPATHIZE WITH ALL.
WEDNESDAY, JUNE 25, 1834.
TO THE PUBLIC.
We have the pleasure of informing the venders of this Journal in town and country, and all other friends, that come obstacles which stood in the way of its hour of publication are now removed, and that they can have it in any part of the kingdom, at the time most convenient to them.
Letters and Parcels to be addressed to the Editor, to the care of Mr. Hooper, No. 13, Pall-Mall East.
A PINCH OF SNUFF.
FROM the respect which we shewed in our last to scented snuffs, and from other indications which will doubtless have escaped us in our ignorance of his art, the scientific snuff taker will have concluded that we are no brother of the box. And he will be right. But we hope we only give the greater proof thereby of the toleration that is in us, and our wish not to think ill of a practice merely because it is not our own. We confess we are inclined to a charitable regard, nay, provided it be handsomely and cleanly managed, to a certain respect for snuff-taking, out of divers considerations: first, as already noticed, because it helps to promote good-will: second, because we have known some very worthy snuff-takers: third, out of our regard for the snuff-taking times of Queen Anne, and the wits of France: and last, because in the benevolence, and imaginativeness, and exceeding width of our philosophy (which fine terms we apply to it in order to give a hint to those who might consider it a weakness and superstition),-because we have a certain veneration for all great events and prevailing customs, that have given a character to the history of society in the course of ages. It would be hard to get us to think contemptuously of the mummies of Egypt, of the ceremoniousness of the Chinese, of the betelnut of the Turks and Persians, nay, of the garlick of the South of Europe; and so of the tea-drinking, coffee-drinking, tobacco-smoking, and snuff-taking, which have come to us from the Eastern and American nations. We know not what great providential uses there might be in such customs; or what worse or more frivolous things they prevent, till the time comes for displacing them. The wind bloweth where it listeth;" and so for ought we know doth the "cloud" of the tobacco-pipe. We are resolved, for our parts, not to laugh with the "scorner," but even to make merry with submission; nay, to undermine (when we feel compelled to do so) with absolute tenderness to the thing dilapidated. Let the unphilosophic lover of tobacco (if there be such a person), to use a phrase of his own, "put that in his pipe, and smoke it."
But there is one thing that puzzles us in the history of the Indian weed and its pulverization; and that is, how lovers, and ladies, ever came to take snuff. In England, perhaps, it was never much done by the latter, till they grew too old to be "particular," or thought themselves too sure of their lovers; but in France, where the animal spirits think less of obstacles in the way of inclination, and where the resolution to please and be pleased is, or was, of a fancy less nice and more accommodating, we are not aware that the ladies in the time of the Voltaires and Du Chatelets ever thought themselves either too old to love, or too young to take snuff. We confess, whether it is from the punctilios of a colder imagination, or the perils intidental to a warmer one, that although we are interested n comprehending the former privilege, we never could
do the same with the latter. A bridegroom in one of
"Wall, vile wall, which did those lovers sunder." This is bad enough; and considering perhaps a due healthiness of skin, worse; yet the object of paint is to imitate health and loveliness; the wish to look well is in it. But snuff!-Turtle-doves don't take snuff. A kiss is surely not a thing to be "sneezed at."
Fancy two lovers in the time of Queen Anne, or Louis the Fifteenth, each with snuff-box in hand, who have just come to an explanation, and who in the hurry of their spirits have unthinkingly taken a pinch, just at the instant when the gentleman is going to salute the lips of his mistress. He does so, finds his honest love as frankly returned, and is in the act of bringing out the words, "Charming creature," when a sneeze overtakes him!
We have nothing to say against the sneeze abstract. In all nations it seems to have been counted of great significance and worth respectful attention, whether advising us of good or ill. Hence the "God bless you," still heard among us when people sneeze; and the "Felicità" (Good luck to you) of the Italians. A Latin poet, in one of his most charming effusions, though not, we conceive, with the delicacy of a Greek, even makes Cupid sneeze at sight of the happiness of two lovers:
We merely give this as a hint to certain snuff-takers
Hoc et dixit, Amor, sinistram ut ante,
PRICE THREE HALFPEnce.
one of the first duties at all times; to be the reverse, or to risque it, in the least avoidable respect, is perilous in the eyes of that passion, which of all others is at once the most lavish and the most nice,-which makes the greatest allowance for all that belongs to it, and the least for whatever is cold or foreign, or implies a coarse security. A very loving nature, however, may have some one unlovely habit, which a wise party on either side may correct, if it have any address. The only passage which we remember meeting with in a book, in which this license assumed by the male sex is touched upon, is in a pleasant comedy translated from the French some years ago, and brought upon the stage in London-the "Green Man." Mr. Jones, we believe, was the translator. He also enacted the part of the lover, and very pleasantly he did it. It was one of his best performances. Luckily for our present purpose, he had a very sweet assistant, in the person of Miss Blanchard, a young actress of that day, who after charming the town with the sprightly delicacy of her style, and with a face better than handsome, prematurely quitted it to their great regret, though, we believe for the best of all reasons. In the course of her lover's addresses, this lady had to find fault with his habit of snuff-taking, and she did it with a face full of such loving and flattering reason, and in a. voice also so truly accordant with the words which the author had put into her mouth, that we remembe. thinking how natural it was for the gentleman to give up the point as he did, instantly, and to pitch the cause of offence away from him, with the exclamation, "Ma tabatiere, adieu." (Farewell, snuff-box.) Thus the French, who were the greatest sinners in this matter, appear, as they ought, to have been the first reformers of it; and openly to have protested against the union of love and snuff-taking, in either sex.
We have no recollection of any self-misgiving in this matter on the part of the male sex, during the times we speak of. They are a race, who have ever thought themselves warranted in taking liberties which they do not allow their gentler friends; and we cannot call to mind any passage in the writings of the French or English wits in former days, implying the least distrust of his own right, and propriety, and charmingness in taking snuff, on the part of the gentleman in love. The "beaux," marquisses, men of fashion, Sir Harry Wildairs, &c. all talk of, and use, and pique themselves on their snuff boxes, without the slightest suspicion that there is any thing in them to which courtship and elegance can object; and we suppose this is the case still, where the snuff-taker, though young in age, is old in habit. Yet we should doubt, were we in his place. He cannot be certain how many women may have refused his addresses on that single account; nor, if he marries, to what secret sources of objection it may give rise. To be clean is
greatly improved in this respect. No blue-stockings now-a-days, we suspect, take snuff, that have any pre-. tensions to youth or beauty. They rather chuse to realize the visions of their books, and vindicate the united claims of mind and person. Sure of their pretensions, they even disclaim any pretence, except that of wearing stockings like other people; to prove which, like proper, unaffected women, they give into the fashion of short petticoats, philosophically risquing the chance of drawing inferior eyes from the charms of their talk, to those of their feet and ancles.
In the battle of the Rape of the Lock, Pope makes his heroine Belinda conquer one of her gallant enemies by chucking a pinch of snuff in his face; nor does he tell us that she borrowed it. Are we to conclude that even she, the pattern of youthful beauty, took it out of her own pocket?
the hiding places. This watch they kept three days, till wearied by the non-appearance of the parties, and the bellowing of the cattle, who were confined without water and on short allowance, they were on the point of quitting the spot; one of the officers, however, thought, previous to doing so, he would go over the Chateau once more-the peasant followed close at his heels: suddenly the officer turned towards him, "Give me a pinch of snuff, friend," said he. "I have none," replied the man, "I do not take it." "Then who is there in this Chateau that does !" "No one that I know of-there is no one in the Chateau, as you see."
"Then whence comes the snuff which I see here?" said the officer, pointing with his foot to some which was scattered on the ground.
D'allegrì... gri-gri-allegri. (Lo starnuto mel rapia), Donatrice d' allegria.
Sneezing however is not a high snuff-taking evidence. It shews the author to have been raw to the science, and to have written more like a poet than a professor.
As snuff-taking is a practice inclining to reflection, and therefore to a philosophical consideration, of the various events of this life, grave as well as gay, we shail conclude the present article with the only tragical
story we ever met with in connexion with a snuff-box. We found it in a very agreeable book-"A Week on the Loire."
'The younger Cathilineau, devoted with hereditary zeal to the worn out cause of the Bourbons, took up arms for Madame la Duchesse de Berri; associated in his successes with M. de Suriac, M. Morriset, and M. de la Soremere, names dear in the annals of fidelity and courage. Orders were given to arrest them at Beaupreau; they took refuge in a Chateau in the neighbourhood. The troops surrounded and searched it, but all in vain; not a single human being was found In it. Certain however that the objects of their search were actually within the precincts of the Chateau, they closed the gates, set their watch and allowed no one to enter, except a peasant whom they employed to show
The man turned pale, and made no reply; the officer looked round again, examined the earth more closely, stamped with his foot, and at last thought he felt a vibration, as if the ground below were hollow. He scrutinized every inch, and at length saw something like a loose board; he raised it up, and then alas! he beheld Cathilineau, in front of his three companions with his pistols in his hand ready to fire. The officer had not a moment to deliberate, he fired,-Cathilineau fell dead, and his companions were seized. This story was told us by the keeper of the Muscè, and afterwards confirmed by an officer who was one of the party employed."
We almost regret to have closed a light article with 'so heavy a stone" as this. ("To tell him that he shall be annihilated," saith Sir Thomas Brown, "is the heaviest stone that melancholy can throw at a man.") But the snuff-taker, with his magic box in hand, is prepared for all chances. As the Turk takes to his pipe, and the sailor to his roll of tobacco, so he to his pinch; and he is then prepared for whatsoever comes,-for a melancholy face with the melancholy, or a laugh with the
Another pinch, reader, before we part.
From the 25th of June to the 3d of July, inclusive.
"How honey-dews enbalm the fragrant morn."
DURING the latter half of June and the first half of
The term Honey-dew, (says Dr. Bevan,) is applied to those sweet clammy drops that glitter on the foliage of many trees in hot weather. The name of this substance would seem to import that it is a deposition from the atmosphere, and this has been the generally received opinion respecting it, particularly among the ancients; it is an opinion still prevalent among the husbandmen, who suppose it to fall from the heavens. Virgil speaks of "Aerii mellis cœlestia dona;" (the celestial present of honey out of the air), and Pliny expresses his doubts, "sive ille est cœli sudor, sivæ quædam siderum saliva sive purgantis se aëris succus," (whether it is an exudation from heaven, or the stars, or the atmosphere). The Rev. Gilbert White, in his Naturalist's Calendar, regards honeydew as the effluvia of flowers, evaporated and drawn up into the atmosphere by the heat of the weather, and falling down again in the night with the dews that en
tangle them. But if this were the case, the fall would be indiscriminate, and we should not have it confined to particular trees and shrubs, nor would it be found Some upon green-house and other covered plants. naturalists have regarded honey-dew as an exudation or secretion from the surface of those leaves upon which it is found, produced by some atmospheric stroke, which has injured their health. Dr. Darwin stands in this class. Others have viewed it as a kind of vegetable perspiration, which the trees emit for their relief in sultry weather; its appearance being never observed in a cold ungenial summer. Dr. Evans is of this opinion. Mr. Curtis has given it as his opinion that the honey-dew is secreted by the aphis or vine-fretter, an insect which he regards as the general cause of what are called blights. He assures us that he never, in a single instance, observed the honeydew unattended with aphids.
I believe it will be found that there are at least two sorts of honey-dew; the one a secretion from the surface of the leaf, occasioned by one of the causes just alluded to; the other a deposition from the body of the aphis. Sir J. E. Smith observes, of the sensible perspi ration of plants, that "when watery, it can be considered only as a condensation of their insensible evaporation, perhaps from some sudden change in the atmosphere. Groves of poplar or willow exhibit this phenomenon, even in England, in hot calm weather, when drops of clear water trickle from their leaves, like a slight shower of rain. Sometimes this secretionis of a Saccharine nature, as De la Hire observed in orange trees. "It is somewhat glutinous in the tilia or lime tree, rather resinous in poplars, as well as in Cistus Creticus." Ovid has made an elegant use of the resinous exudations of Lombardy poplars, which he supposes to be the tears of Phaeton's sisters, who were transformed into those trees. Such exudations must be considered as effusions of the peculiar secretions; for it has been observed that manna may be scraped from the leaves of Fraxinus ornus, as well as be procured from its stem by incision. They are often, perhaps, a sign of unhealthiness in the plant; at least such appears to be the nature of one kind of honey-dew, found in particular upon the beech, which in consequence of an unfavourable wind, has its leaves often covered with a sweet exudation, similar in flavour to the liquor obtained from its trunk. So likewise the hop, according to Linnæus, is affected with the honeydew, and its flowers are rendered abortive, in consequence of the attacks of the caterpillar of the Ghost moth (Phalana Humuli) upon its roots. In such case the Saccharine exudation must decidedly be of a morbid nature.
The other kind of honey-dew, which is derived from the aphis, appears to be the favourite food of ants, and is thus spoken of by Messrs. Kirby and Spence, in their late valuable Introduction to Entomology. "The loves of the ants and the aphides have long been celebrated; and that there is a connexion between them, you may at any time, in the proper season, convince yourself; for you will always find the former very busy on those trees and plants on which the latter abound; and, if you examine more closely, you will discover that the object of the ants, in thus attending upon the aphides, is to obtain the saccharine fluid secreted by them, which may well be denominated their milk. This fluid, which is scarcely inferior to honey in sweetness, issues in limpid drops from the abdomen of these insects, not only by the ordinary passage, but also by the setiform tubes placed, one on each side, just above it. Their sucker being inserted in the tender bark, is, without intermission employed in absorbing the sap, which, after it has passed through the system, they keep continually discharging by these organs. When no ants attend them, by a certain jerk of the body, which takes place at regular intervals, they ejaculate it to a distance. The power of ejecting the fluid from their bodies, seems to have been wisely instituted to preserve cleanliness in each individual fly, and indeed for the preservation of the whole family; for, pressing as they do upon one another, they would otherwise soon be glued together and rendered incapable of stirring. "When the ants are at hand, watching the moment at which the aphides emit their fluid, they seize and suck it down immediately; this, however, is the least of their talents; for the ants absolutely possess the art of making the aphides yield it at their pleasure; or in other words, of milking them." The ant ascends the tree, says Linnæus, that it may milk its cows the aphides, not kill them. Huber informs us that the liquor is voluntarily given out by the aphis, when solicited by the ant, the latter tapping the aphis gently, but repeatedly, with its attennæ, and using the same motion as when caressing its own young. He thinks, when the ants are not at hand to receive it, that the aphis retains the liquor for a longer time, and yields it freely and apparently without the least detriment to itself, for even when it has acquired wings it shows no disposition to escape. A single aphis supplies many ants with a plentiful meal. The ants occasionally form an establishment for their aphides, constructing a building in a secure place, at a distance from their own city, to which after fortifying it, they transport those insects, and confine them under a guard, like cows upon a dairy farm, to supply the wants of the metropolis. The aphides are provided with a hollow pointed proboscis, folded under the breasts, when the insects are not feeding, with which instruments they puncture the turgid vessels of the leaf, leaf-stalk, or bark, and suck with great avidity their contents, which are expelled nearly unchanged, so that, however fabulous it may appear, they may literally be said to void a liquid sugar. On looking steadfastly at a group of these insects (aphides Salicis), while feeding on the bark of the willow, their superior size enables us to perceive some of them clevating their bodies and emitting a transparent substance in
the form of a small shower.
"Nor scorn ye now, fond elves, the foliage scar When the light aphids, arm'd with puny spear, Probe each emulgent vein, till, bright below Like falling stars, clear drops of nectar glow." Erans. The willow accommodates the bees in a kind of threefold succession, the farina of the flowers yielding spring food for their young,-the bark giving out propolis for sealing the hives of fresh swarms, and the leaves
shining with honey-dew in the midst of summer scarcity. But to return to the aphides. "These insects may also be seen distinctly with a strong magnifier, on the leaves of the hazel, lime, &c. but invariably on the inferior surface, piercing the vessels, and expelling the honey-dew from their body with considerable force." "These might easily have escaped the observation of the earlier philosophers, being usually concealed within the curl of the leaves that are punctured." The drops that are spurted out, unless intercepted by the surrounding foliage, or some, other interposing body, fall upon the ground, and the spots may often be observed, for some time, beneath the trees affected with honey-dew, till washed away by the rain. When the leaves of the kidney-bean are affected by honey-dew, their surface assumes the appearance of having been sprinkled with soot.
Honey dew usually appears upon the leaves, as a viscid, transparent substance, sweet as honey, sometimes in the form of globules, at others resembling a syrup, and is generally most abundant from the middle of June to the middle of July.
It is found chiefly upon the oak, the elm, the maple, the sycamore, the lime, the hazel, and the blackberry;
occasionally also on the cherry, currant, and other fruit trees. Sometimes only one species of trees is affected at a time. The oak generally affords the greatest quantity. At the season of its greatest abundance, the happy humming noise of the bees may be heard at a considerable distance from the trees, sometimes nearly equalling in loudness the united hum of swarming. Of the plane there are two sorts; the oriental and the occidental, both highly ornamental trees, and much regarded in hot climates for the cooling shade they afford.
"Jamque ministrantem Platanum potantibus umbran." Virgil. (And plane-tree, ministering a shade to drinkers.) The ancients so much respected the former that they used to refresh its roots with wine instead of water, believing, as Sir William Temple has observed, that this tree loved that liquor, as well as those that used to drink under its shades.
"Crevit et affuso latior umbra mero."
Virgil. (It drank the wine, and spread a kindlier shade.) The sycamore has been discarded from the situation it used formerly to hold near the mansions of the convivial, owing to the bees crowding to banquet on its profusion of honey-dew, and occasionally an early fall of its leaves. The lime or linden tree has been regarded as doubly acceptable to the bees, on account of its fragrant blossom, and its honey-dewed leaves appearing both together, amidst the oppressive heats of the dogdays; but it seems doubtful whether the flowers have any attraction but their fragrance, as they are said to have no honey-cup.
It is of great importance to apiarians who reside in the vicinity of such trees as are apt to be affected with honey-dew, to keep their bees on the storifying plan, where additional room can at all times be provided for them at pleasure, as, during the time of a honey-dew, more honey will be collected in one week than will be afforded by flowers in general. So great is the ardour of the bees on these occasions, and so rapid are their movements, that it is often dangerous to be placed betwixt the hives and the dews.
That species of honey-dew which is secreted from the surface of the leaves, appears to have been first noticed by the Abbe Boissier de Sauvages. He observed it upon the old leaves of the holm-oak, and upon those of the blackberry, but not upon the young leaves of either, and he remarked at the same time that neighbouring trees of a different sort were exempt from it: among these latter he noticed the mulberry tree, which," says he, "is a very particular circumstance, for the juice (honey-dew) is a deadly poison to silkworms."
Some years do not afford any honey-dew; it generally occurs pretty extensively once in four or five years.
years in a state of occasional nervous imbecility, and died at Paris, aged thirty-nine. He made himself hateful to the Jesuits by his admirable exposition of the casuistry and daring want of principle of that extraordinary body; but good men of all parties honoured and loved him.
ROMANCE OF REAL LIFE. XX. ADVENTURE OF EUSTACHIO CHERUBINI.
This account, which was first published, if we remember, by Mrs. Graham, in her "Six Months Residence near Rome," has been repeated by Mr. M'Farlane in the "History of Banditti;' 'but we are not aware that it has hitherto appeared in any publication which gives it so cheap an introduction to thousands, as one like our own. The undoubted authenticity of the terrors so naturally painted by the poor apothecary, produces the last degree of interest, by uniting certainty with surprise, and a domestic familiarity with the remoteness of wild stories. The narrative is given in a letter from the person principally concerned.
Castel Madama, August 30, 1819.
I send you the detailed account you requested of the misfortune which befel me on the 17th current. Early on the morning of that day, the factor (bailiff or farm-agent) of the Cavaliere Settimio Bischi, named Bartolomeo Marasca, a person well known to me, came to my house with a letter from his master, desiring me to come to Tivoli, my assistance, as a surgeon, being necessary, both to Signor Gregorio Celestini, and to the nun sister, Chiara Eletta Morelli. On this account I hurried over my visits to my patients at Castel Madama, and set off on horseback accompanied by the factor, who was armed with a gun, towards Tivoli. I passed through all the parish of San Gregorio and that of Tivoli, as far as the second arch of the antique aqueducts which cross the road two miles from that town, to a spot commonly called the narrows of Tivoli, without accident. And here I must observe, that it is im possible for the road, from its natural position, to be better adapted for banditti, or more terrible to travellers. After passing the bridge degli archi, on the way to Tivoli, it is bounded on the left by a steep hill, covered with thick underwood, which reaches to the very edge of the road; the other side is a continued precipice of great height, and quite perpendicular to the plain, through which the Anio runs below. The breadth of this road is very little more than sufficient for a carriage, so that it is not possible to perceive the danger, which may easily be concealed in the thicket above, nor to fly from it on either side when it bursts out upon one, and therefore one must inevitably become the victim of lawless violence.
attend a sick stranger. Then he ordered me to write to that stranger, and desire him to send two thousand dollars, or I should be a dead man, and to warn him against sending out an armed force. He brought me pen, ink, and paper; and I was obliged to write what he bade me, with all the earnestness that thirteen assassins, and the fear of death could inspire me. While I was writing he sent two of his men to take a man who was ploughing a little lower down; he belonged to San Gregorio, but one of the messengers having seen one of Castel Madama in the flat below, he went down for him, and they were both brought up to us. As soon as they were come, I begged the man of Castel Madama to carry my letter to Tivoli for Signor Celestini; and, in order to enforce it, I sent my case of quainted as a token. surgical instruments, with which he was well acThis countryman, who was as civil, as he was wary, prudent, and fit for the business, accepted the commission which I gave him, and after having afforded me some encouragement without however offending the brigands, he gave me some bread which he had with him, and set off for Tivoli, the chief desiring him to take one of the horses we had left below, that he might make more speed. The ploughman
from San Gregorio was sent with him, but not quite to Tivoli, and only to await at a given spot the return of the peasant of Castel Madama.
I had scarcely passed the second arch of the antique aqueducts, when two armed men rushed from the thicket, near a little lane to the left, and stopped the way; and pointing their guns at the factor, who was riding a little before, ordered him to dismount. Meantime two others came out of the wood behind me, so as to have us between them and the former. We had
both dismounted on the first intimation. The two men behind me ordered me to turn back instantly, and to walk before them not by the road to Castel Madama, but that to San Gregorio.
The first question they asked me was, whether I was the Prince of Castel Madama, meaning, I fancy, the Vice-Prince, who had passed a little before. To this I answered, that I was not the Prince, but a poor surgeon of Castel Madama; and to convince them I spoke truth, I shewed them my case of lancets, and my bag of surgical instruments; but it was of no use. During our walk towards San Gregorio, I perceived that the number of brigands increased to thirteen. One took my watch, another my case of lancets. At the beginning of our march we met at short distances, four youths belonging to San Gregorio, and one elderly man, all of whom were obliged to share my fate; shortly after, we met another man, and an old woman, whose ear-rings were taken, and they were then permitted to continue their journey.
In the meadow by the last aqueduct, the horses which I and Bartolomeo had ridden were turned loose, and after passing the ravine, called del Vaccatore we began to pass the steepest part of the mountain with such speed that, together with the alarm I felt made me pant so violently that I trembled every moment lest I should burst a blood-vessel. At length, however, we reached the top of the hill, where we were allowed to rest, and we sat down on the grass. The factor shewed himself well acquainted with their numbers, Marasca then talked a good deal to the brigands, and said other things, which my wretched state of mind prevented me from attending to very distinctly; but seeing him apparently so intimate with the robbers, a suspicion crossed my mind that I was betrayed by him.
We were remaining in the same state in expectation of the return of the messenger, when, in about three hour's time we saw, in the distance, a man on horseback, coming straight to us, which we believed to be the man returning. A little after, however, several people were seen together, which the chief took to be the armed force of Tivoli. He abused one of his companions who had broken his spy glass the day before, because he could not obtain a more satisfactory view of them. At length having made the best observations he could, he concluded that there was really an armed force advancing, and gave orders to his men to retire to the highest and most woody part of the mountain, obliging me and the other prisoner to keep pace with them. After a long and painful march finding himself in a safe place, he halted, and there awaited the return of the messenger; but, as he still delayed, the chief came to me and said perhaps it might happen to me, as it did to a certain inhabitant of Viletri, who had been taken by this very party that entered his house in disguise, and carried him off to the woods, and because his ransom was long in coming, they killed him, and when the money came, the messenger found him dead. I was alarmed beyond measure at this story, and regarded it as a forerunner of my own speedy death.
However, I entreated them with tears to have a little patience, and the messenger would surely return with the money. Meantime, to satisfy the chief as well as his companions, I told them I might have written another letter to Castel Madama, with orders to sell whatever I possessed, and to send up the money immediately. Thank God, this pleased them, and instantly they caused me to write another letter to Castel Madama, and one of the prisoners from San Gregorio was sent with it. After he was gone, the factor Marasca walking carelessly about among the brigands, looking at their arms and making angry gestures, but he did not speak. Shortly after he came and sat down by me; it was then that the chief, having a large stick in his hand, came up to him, and without saying a single word, gave him a blow on the back of the head just where it joins the neck. It did not kill him; so he rose and cried, "I have a wife and children; for God's sake spare my life," and thus saying, he defended himself as well as he could with his hands. Other brigands closed round him; a struggle ensued, and they rolled together down a steep precipice. I closed my eyes, my head dropped on my breast, I heard a cry or two, but I seemed to have lost all sensation. In a very short time, the brigands returned, and I saw the chief thrust his dagger still stained with blood, into his sheath; then turning to me he announced the death of the factor in these very words: “Do not fear: we have killed the factor because he was a sbirro; such as you are not sbirri; then he was of no use among us. He looked at our arms, and seemed disposed to murmur; and if the force had come up, he might have been dangerous." And thus they got rid of Marasca. The chief seeing that the money did not come from Tivo.i, and being afraid least troops should be sent, seemed uncertain what to do, and said to his companions, "How shall we dispose of our prisoners; we must either kill them or send them home:" but they could not decide on either, and he came and sat down by me. 1, remembering that I had a little money about me which might amount altogether to thirty pauls (three crowns)-gave them frankly to him to gain his goodwill. He took it in good part, and said he would keep it to pay the spy.
After this it came on to rain heavily; it was already glish time) and I was wet to the skin. Before the rain twenty-one o'clock (about four in the afternoon, En · was quite over we heard some voices from the top of the hill above us on the left hand. Then a strict silence was kept, that we might discover if they were the voices of the messengers from Tivoli, or some party of the troops of whom they seemed much afraid. I endeavoured to convince them that it was probably the messenger. They then called out "Come down;" but no one came; nor did we ever find out who it was, so we remained where we were.
1st July (19th June, O. S.), 1623, at. Clermont, in Auvergne (France), Blaise Pascal, a man remarkable for the greatness of his understanding and the weakness of his temperament, which rendered him, in spite of his wisdom, a victim to hypochondria and superstition. He was an admirable mathematician, reasoner, wit, and a most excellent man; and yet, notwithstanding this union of the most solid and brilliant qualities, a wretched constitution sometimes reduced him to a state which idiots might have pitied. As if his body was not in ill condition enough, he wore an iron girdle with points on it next his skin, and was in the habit of striking it with his elbow, when a thought which he regarded as sinful or vain, came across him. During his latter days, he imagined that he saw a deep abyss by the side of his chair, and that he was in danger of falling into The chief brigand then turned to me, and throwing it. How modest it becomes the cleverest men to be, down my lancet case by me, said that he had reflected and thankful for a healthier state of blood, when they upon my condition, and that he would think about my see one of the greatest of minds thus miserably treated Then I with tears explained to him my by the case it lived in! poverty, and my narrow means, and told him how, to Pascal languished several gain a little money, I was on my road to Tivoli to
After another short interval we heard another voice also from above, on the left; and then we said, surely
this must be the messenger. But the brigands would not trust to it, and forced us to go on to a place a good deal higher, and even with that whence the voice proceeded. When we reached it they all presented their muskets, keeping the prisoners behind them, and thus prepared to stand on the defensive they cried out, "Come forward!" In a few moments the men appeared among the trees, one of them the peasant of Castel Madama, who had been sent in the morning to Signor Celestini at Tivoli; the other, the ploughman of San Gregorio his companion.
As they were recognized they were ordered to lie down with their faces to the ground, and asked if they came alone. But the man of Castel Madama answered"It would be a fine thing, indeed, if I, who am almost dead with fatigue after climbing these mountains, with the weight of five hundred scudi about me, should be obliged to prostrate myself with my face to the earth! Here's your money. It was all that could be got together in the town! Then the chief took the money, and ordered us to change our station. Having arrived at a convenient place, we stopped, and he asked if there were any letters; being answered that there were two, he gave them me to read; and learning from them that the sum sent was five hundred crowns, he counted them, and finding them exact, said all was well, praised the punctuality of the peasant, and gave him some silver as a reward for his trouble: his companion also received a small present.
The robbers, who no longer cared to keep the prisoners belonging to San Gregorio, from whom they could not hope to get anything, released them all from this spot. I, therefore, and the peasant of Castel Madama, remained the only prisoners; and we began to march across the mountains, perhaps only for the sake of changing place. I asked why they did not set me at liberty as well as the others, as they had already received so considerable a sum on my account. The chief said that he meant to await the return of the messenger sent to Castel Madama. I continued to press him to let me go before night, which was now drawing on apace, saying, that perhaps it had not been possible to procure any more money at Castel Madama, and that if I remained out all night on the hill in the cold air, it would have been better to have killed me at once. Then the chief stopped me and bade me take good care how I said such things, for that to them killing a man was a matter of perfect indifference. The same thing was also said to me by another outlaw who gave me his arm during our rocky journey. At length we reached the top of the mountain where there were some pools of water, formed by the rain that had fallen a little before; and then they gave me some very hard and black bread that I might eat, and drink some of that water. I drank three times, but I found it impossible to eat the bread.
The journey continued over the tops of those mountains which succeed one another, till we arrived at a place known by the name of S. Sierla, about midnight. There we saw an ass feeding, and heard some one call to us, to ask if we had seen the ass. The chief in a feigned voice, answered, Yes; and then made the man from Castel Madama desire him to come down from the ass. It appeared that the man was afraid to come down; for which reason the chief said that if he were near enough, he would have stuck his knife into him. Piqued that the shepherd was afraid of them, he said, "Did one ever hear of a shepherd being afraid of the brigands?" When the man at length came down, they reproached him with his fear; but he, taking courage, said he was not afraid, and invited them to his hut. The ass was then taken and a great coat put upon his back, with a shepherd's coat of sheepskin, upon which I was mounted, and we went on to the hut, where there was a threshing-floor. This was the only time I saw them drink anything but water. The chief told me they were always afraid when fresh wine came, lest it should be drugged; and that they always made whoever brought it, drink a good deal of it; and if in two hours no bad symptom appeared, they used the wine.
After this we went to the sheep-fold, which we reached about the fifth hour; and where we found a quantity of boiled meat which the brigands tied up in various handkerchiefs, and a great coat, together with some cheeses. Before we left the fold, the chief, reflecting that the messenger was not come back from Castel Madama, began to think he might have made his escape entirely, because he was one of the prisoners from San Gregorio, and determined to make me write another letter, and accordingly brought me all that was requisite for writing; and ordered me to tell my friends at Castel Madama that if they did not send eight hundred crowns the following day, they would put me to death; or carry me to the woods of Fajola, if there was a farthing less than the abovenamed sum. I consequently wrote a second letter, and gave it to the countryman to carry, telling him also by word of mouth, if they found no purchasers at Castel Madama for my effects, to desire that they might be sent to Tivoli and sold for whatever they might fetch. The chief of the brigands also begged to have a few shirts sent. One of the brigands proposed, I don't know why, to cut off one of my ears, and send it with my effects to Castel Madama. It was well for me that the chief did not approve of the civil proposal, so it was not done. He, however, wanted the countryman to set out that moment; but the man, with his usual coolness, said it was not possible to go down that steep mountain during night; on which the dief told him he might remain in the
sheep-cote all night and set out at daylight: "But take
When we again reached the thicket, and found a fit
Then the second chief, who said he was of Sonnino, and one of the five who went to treat with the President of Frosinone, began to talk of the political nature of their situation. He said that government would never succeed in pulling them down by force; that they are not a fortress to batter down with cannon, but rather birds, which fly round the tops of the sharpest rocks without having any fixed home; that if, by any misfortune, seven perished, they were sure of ten recruits to replace their loss; for criminals, who would be glad to take refuge among them were never wantamounted to a hundred and thirty individuals; and ing; that the number of their present company that they had an idea of undertaking some daring exby saying that the only way to put an end to their deploit, perhaps of threatening Rome itself. He ended predations would be to give them a general pardon,
without reservation or limitation, that they might all return to their houses without fear of treachery; but otherwise they would not trust to, nor treat with any one; and added, that this was the reason for which they had not concluded anything with the prelate sent to Frosinone to treat with them. As it was, their company was determined to trust nothing but a pardon from the Pope's own lips; and he repeated this same sentiment to me several times during the second day I was obliged to pass with him and his fellows.
tain from government the freedom of his wife, MarinOne of the brigands begged me to endeavour to obcia Carcapola di Pisterso, now in the prison of St. Signor Cherubini; we made a blunder when we took Michael in Rome. Another said to me, "Have patience, ing to our information, should have passed by at that you; we intended to have had the prince, who accordroad, and just before I passed, not the prince, but the very time." In fact, he was to have travelled that person commonly called so, the vice-prince, or agent, Signor Filipo Gazoni had gone by, but fortunately for him they did not know him, because, as I understood, he was walking leisurely, only accompanied by an unarmed boy, who was leading his horse. The banditti bit their fingers with rage when they found that they had let him slip, for they said they would not have released him under three thousand crowns. The brigand who said all this had the collar of the Madonna della Carmine* round his neck, and said to me, "Suffer patiently, for the love of God." Then the chief came to me and told me he was not very well, and desired me to prescribe for him, which I did in writing. Another, the same who had taken my watch from me, told me that the watch did not go, and shewed it me. I found that he had broken the glass and the minute hand. He said if I had any money he would sell it me, but I gave it him back saying nothing, but shrugging up my shoulders. Meantime the day was drawing to a close, and the chief, taking out his watch, said it was now twenty o'clock. He called the shepherd to him, and ordered him to return to the sheepfold which we had left during the night, and see if the countryman was come back with the answer to the second letter to Castel Madama. In that case he ordered him to accompany him back to the place we were now in; and if he were not come, he ordered him to wait three hours; and if he did not come then, to return alone. The shepherd obeyed, and after an hour and a half he came back with the countryman and another shepherd, who had been sent with him. They brought with them two sealed packets of money, which they said contained six hundred crowns. begged of me, and some little matter for me to eat, They also brought a few shirts of home-spun linen, which the chief had and a little wine to recruit me. But I could take nothing but a pear and a little wine, the rest was eaten by the robbers. They took the money without counting, and gave the messengers some silver for their pains; after which, they gave me leave to depart. And thus I found myself free from them, after having thanked them for their civility, and for my life, which they had had the goodness to spare.
On the way homewards the two men of Castel Madama informed me, that the prisoner from San Gregorio, who was sent the day before with the first letter to Castel Madama for money, and who had not been seen since, had really been there, and had gone back the same day, at the hour and to the place appointed, with from Castel Madama; but the robbers having forgotten the sum of one hundred and thirty-seven crowns sent to send any one to meet him at the place agreed on, because we were a great way from it, the messenger returned to town with the money, after having waited till night, carrying back the intelligence that the factor had been killed, which alarmed all my townsmen who began to fear for my life. I found that the last six hundred dollars had been furnished half by Castel Madama, and half by Tivoli.
I went on towards Castel Madama, where all the people anxiously expected me. In fact, a mile before I reached the town, I found a number of people, of all ranks, who had come out to meet me, and I arrived at home a little before night, in the midst of such public congratulations and acclamations as were never before heard, which presented a most affecting spectacle. I parish church. On the first sound all the people flocked had hardly arrived, when the arch-priest Giustini ordered the bells to be rung to call the people to the thither with me, to render public and devout thanks to the most merciful God, and to our protector, Saint Michael, the arch-angel, for my deliverance. The priest had done the same when he first heard of my capture, and soon after, when he sent the six hundred crowns. Both times he had assembled his congregation in that very church, to offer up supplications to the Lord to grant me that mercy which he deigned afterwards to
this my misfortune will be ever remembered by me.
ness of heart, exerted themselves in my favour. I now pray God that he will preserve me from all the bad consequences which commonly arise out of similar misfortunes; and I am always
Your Affectionate Friend,
hearth which I used to picture as the union of what was most pleasing and elegant. You once wrote, long ago, that in the contemplation of a Poet's honey-moon, there was more of speculation than in the moons of common mortals; and the sequel, in that instance, strengthened your hypothesis. But hearths change; blooming children become men and women, having the same wants as ourselves, which we are not so ready to accord to them; they murmur, and often with reason. There is much difficulty in abstracting from the mind the impression that they are still but children. But I must conclude; for this subject will lead me beyond my limits; so I finish with expressing a hope that these changes may have fallen lightly on one, who has been so much the favourite of nature, that fortune, in her envy of his endowments, has been oft unwilling to recognise the justice of his claims.
UNSOCIAL READERS OF PERIODICALS.
Dear Quondam Indicator,
That which I have so long desired, is at length accomplished;-1 mean your return to us in the hebbomadal way, which in by-gone days afforded both pleasure and instruction to so many circles. But wherefore have you changed the size of your sheet? Fifteen years since, when sitting at the tea-table with your paper, I have imagined myself one, living in the Pardon must be asked for the loose half sheet, with which this letter commences. It had been written on 'queen's time," whose taste was directed and conserved by an Addison. The lapse of years has not impaired the other side, before the mistake was discovered. the character of the Indicator with me, and I have a sensible gratification in the prospect of a renewal of those times. This change in the form is however, some drawback, and is to me twofold. First, inasmuch as the illusion is weakened;-and secondly, which is yet more tantalizing.... But the "second count" involves a narrative, which shall be unfolded with all brevity, and to which you are invited most graciously to lend an ear.
Imprimis, I wish you would not place Leigh Hunt at the head of your Journal; I would still call you, "dear Indicator;" but no matter for the name. Now to the narrative. Know then, that I am the wife of
a gentleman, remarkable for the regularity of his habits, on which he plumes himself not a little. Having a taste for purchasing most of the periodicals, he stitches together all those, which from their similarity in size, are susceptible of this conjunction. Thus, when I would be tête-a-tête with you, "Chambers's Information for the People," presents itself; and what is more, the sheet must always be appended to those miscellanies, ere it be consigned to me. The octavo would not have been liable to this accident, there being no work of that form going on at this time in weekly
This is one of the many annoyances arising out of the love of order; a superstition (when it amounts to such) to which you, as a party concerned, would do well to apply your ingenuity in the exposure of its inconvenience. "The inconvenience of order!" some would exclaim. To such I would not address myself. There is no one to whom I would consign the handling a paradox, with such confidence, as to you. Twenty years long have I borne that the Examiner should be cut and sewed before it was resigned to one, out of four or five, who waited in vain for a sheet. Need I point out to you the comfort of holding a page of a favourite author between the fire and your eyes, with your feet placed on the fender; contrasted with being planted at a large table, remote from such appliances, and sitting bolt upright as though you were examining Magna Charta! I hope you will think of some alleviation to a lone family, living in the country, where to read is almost the only resource, and where any abridgment of this pleasure is a serious annoyance. One thing I do insist on, that you turn not the shafts of your wit against us. We look to you for succour. We hear a vast deal of the "ignorant impatience" of women, and the necessity of restraining it; and if you, too, were to glance that way, it would be the unkindest cut of all. But we know you for a 'Squire of Dames. En passant, an occasional Essay in support of our claims to a small share of understanding, would not be misplaced. Your late friend Hazlitt took some pains to prove, that women were totally incapable of reasoning; and it must be acknowledged that he had reason for the assertion. I never knew any woman, nor man either, save one or two fantastical wits, who could develop the mysteries of his ratiocinations. But de mortuis, &c. I shall look with no small trepidation for the recognition of our grievances; and do engage, in case they are properly noticed, to furnish such remuneration, as may amply reward a man of letters and an elegant poet. Imprimis, in the village of Mopeham, where I reside, it is not that Mopeham where dwells the old lady of oblivious memory; and from whence the "Parson's Daughter" posted home in the carriage tête-à-tête with the young Count. This was thought, in our circle, rather a new incident, and a happy hit in the novel department.) But to leave digression: this Mopeham is Our Village; and in its woody haunts are to be found more nightingales than, perchance, you may have ever heard or seen congregate; for you see them in their flight from one tree to another throughout the day when every goose is cackling," yet lose they none of their fame as prima donnas. Now do I intend noting every minim, crotchet, quaver, &c. &c. in the combined scale of harmony, to present you with; and yet this is only a small part of what I project, if you will undertake to prove that order does not always produce harmony; and to disabuse, of that other heresy, one, on whom time has no other effect than to strengthen and confirm him in preconceived errors.
It was with much concern I read in your commencement to your present work, that you should cease to speak of yourself in future. There has been a long hiatus in our acquaintance, and I had hoped to have collected some gleanings from your hearth again, that
Mopeham, May-day, (Incongruous!) 1834.
Again we must ask, what are we to do with letters so intoxicating as these, and from fair correspondents? For before we have done reading them, our heads are not in a condition to judge. If we publish them entire, we seem shameless; and if garbled, ungrateful; and in the latter case, our friends may think also that we baulk that openness of intercourse, and those impulses of good-will and sociality, which it is one of the first objects of this Journal to encourage. We feel however what must be our course in future: -we must endeavour to reconcile with that encouragement a most unwilling portion of sobriety and self-sacrifice. We can assure the writers of such letters that the passages we omit will be those that are the most precious to us, and that our virtue will be indeed so unwilling as to have no merit whatsoever. And yet this, instead of depriving us of any other rewards, such as the nightingale's songs, &c. so generously held forth by our fair friend, will, we conceive, doubly secure them for us; for it is not merit alone that elicits recompence from the charitable: -grievous privations are held to be some title. We think we even deserve a little balm before-hand, for the very painful, though we are sure unintentional, wound inflicted on us by our correspondent in her objection to the use of the name at the head of our paper,—a most involuntary and long-contested concession on our part to the representations of persons conversant with periodical literature and with the state of public feeling, and for which we have since been consoled by the opinion of a friend of ours, conversant both with literature and business, that he "looked upon it as the cause of half of the Journal's success." We mention this in self-defence. The name is now identified with the
Journal, and cannot be laid aside and to say the truth, we had one consolation in it before; for it looked like a part of the frankness and open dealing which our paper recommends, and was, perhaps (if we may say so without arrogance), not without its use in furthering the pretensions of cheap literature. With regard to the size, it was thought best to square that to the similitude of our popular friend Chambers. The Indicator we never thought of. But what have we been saying all this while? Of what ungrateful forgetfulness have we not been guilty? For now we think of it, our fair friend no sooner inflicted the wound, than she did apply the balm to it, when she followed it up with a reason for the objection. Is there no way by which we can still retain this right of being so pleasantly addressed? Might not some nom-de-guerre (de paix, rather,) some appellation implying a friend in masquerade, be found out by us, or for us, so that we might be addressed by it notwithstanding appearances, and in spite of that brazen-faced necessity at the head of our Journal? Will the lady herself christen us? We cannot promise to be a very good little boy;" but we will promise to be a very great big godson, a great deal older perhaps than herself.
As to the case which she has done us the honour to submit to our judgment, and which (from the allegorical name she has given her village) we conclude she has enveloped in a due quantity of generous inapplicability as to sex or relationship, it surely requires no other discussion, after the very argumentative conclusions implied by the way in which she has stated it. Extremes meet this as in all other cases. Order is not order if it pervert the very end of order,
and produce disordered feelings and a sense of superogation. and tyranny. Primness and petty exactions have none of the ease and liberality of true order, which should go gracefully and equably like a dance, and not stiffly and slavishly like soldiers before a martinet. One of the very advantages of a periodical consisting of several sheets, is the power it affords a generous reader of enabling the persons around him to do as he does, and partake at the same moment of the same pleasure. For this, among other reasons, were Examiners, and Atlases, and Spectators, and True Syng ordained. There is an old story which will settle the spirit of this matter. A professed lover of order caliedout one day, in a crowd, so vociferously and provokingly for "silence," that some one was at length moved to exclaim, "Knock down that fellow crying silence!" We might have asked whether the gentleman in the present instance could not be coaxed out of his humour; for there is no counter-argument like your coaxing, no lips so eloquent as those which
"Convince us at once with a kiss."
But "wenty years" is a long time for a crick in the fancy.
PETRARCH'S ACCOUNT OF A DREADFUL STORM AT NAPLES.
THE late storm at Brighton, with its four-inch globes of hail-stones, and its windows battered as with musketry, has reminded us, not in those particulars, but in its having taken place by the sea-side, of a more awful tempest which had the above great poet for one of its spectators, and of which he has left an account to posterity. We take it from the "Life of Joanna, Queen of Naples," which we mentioned the other day as a work deserving greater publicity than it appearsto have obtained. The tempest, the poet, the black night-time, the day as black, the earthquake, the cavaliers "coming as if to assist at the obsequies of their country," the white ghastly sea, and the fair queen with her ladies issuing forth barefoot and with dishevelled locks, to beg the mercy of heaven, make up a picture truly southern and appalling. It is only in climates of general luxury and occasional violence that such combinations of beauty and horror take place.
'Petrarch (says our author) had frequent conferences with Joanna during his stay at Naples at this period. These turned chiefly on literary subjects and inspired her with a high esteem for his abilities and worth. Loving letters, she wished to attach him to her court, and under happier circumstances might perhaps have succeeded, but being, as she afterwards herself expressed it, 'a queen in name only, without power to do good to any one,' she was obliged to content herself with appointing him, in imitation of Robert, her domestic chaplain and almoner, an office possessed only by people of distinction, and to which some valuable privileges are attached. It is a remarkable circumstance that the letters patent for this employment bear date on the day of the most remarkable tempest by which Naples had ever been visited. This tempest was caused by a violent Sirocco* and was felt all round Italy, and on all the shores of the Mediterranean, but more particularly at Naples. Petrarch's description of its effects in that capital is peculiarly lively and interesting.
"This scourge of God, says he, had been predicted a few days before, by the bishop of a neighbouring island skilled in astrology. But as an astrologer never foretells the exact truth, he had also predicted that Naples would be destroyed by an earthquake, on the 25th of November. This prediction had gained so much credit, that the greater part of the populace, resigning every other thought, and expecting only immediate death, craved the mercy of heaven for their sins. Others, however, derided the prophecy and the vain science of the astrologer. Between hope and fear, but I confess rather more inclined to fear, for accustomed to inhabit colder climates I regarded a storm of thunder and lightning in winter as a phenomenon, and looked on that I now witnessed as a menace from heaven,-on the evening of the 24th I retired at an early hour to the convent of St. Lawrence, where I lodged, having previously seen the principal part of the ladies of the metropolis, more
A hot and close south wind.