Page images
PDF
EPUB

JAMAICA PLANTERS

VERSUS

CHRISTIANITY.

In what degree it is allowable, and in what degree it is criminal, to instruct the Jamaica bondsmen, may be learnt from the following communication to the Editor of the Christian Record, a monthly publication issued in Kingston, Jamaica, under the superintendance of Members of the Church of England.

6

"I happened to be present, the other day, at a conversation which took place at the house of an attorney in my neighbourhood, on the question whether or not a clergyman, who had been lately appointed to a district of the parish, should be permitted to instruct the slaves on the estates in that district! It was the unanimous opinion of the planters present that the said clergyman ought not, on any account, to be admitted on the estates. Why? BECAUSE HE WAS A MEMBER OF THE CHURCH MISSIONARY SOCIETY! There was nothing against the individual himself. This was admitted in so many words; but his connexion with that Society was deemed a sufficient reason for depriving the slaves of the means of instruction which he was appointed to afford them, and for keeping them bound down in the chains of spiritual darkness! What an awful responsibility lies on the souls of proprietors who thus deliver up the spiritual welfare of their slaves to the dictation of abandoned men! In this manner, and for these causes, the slaves are deprived of the instruction and consolations of the ministers of the established church. From the inadequate size of the chapels, and from the want of time allowed them, they can scarcely attend the public ministry; and they have been threatened by proprietors, attorneys, and overseers-aye, by magistrates! -with the utmost severity of punishment, if they shall be detected in attendance at a 'Sectarian' place of worship. How, then, are the unfortunate creatures to obtain spiritual nourishment for their famishing souls? Whom will these planters permit to give them instruction? The Bishop's Catechist.' He, and he alone, is to be admitted; and the cause of his

[ocr errors]

a league between adulterous planters and temporising churchmen; the former consistently opposing the truth, the latter seeking ease, and friendship of the world.' When will his lordship shake off the trammels of worldly policy, and stand forth in the name and in the strength of his Master? His voice raised against the proprietors' criminal neglect of their slaves would be heard and listened to, and some hope might then be entertained of rescuing the soul of the slave from spiritual thraldom; but, if his lordship thus continue silent, how great is his responsibility!'

dividuals refused to serve with him, &c. &c. The following is the reason assigned by the Cornwall Chronicle of February 18:- We understand that his (Mr. Roby's) manifesting so decided a regard for the Baptists, in becoming their security, and in intermeddling with the affair of the meeting-house (i. e., lodging information concerning the destruction of the chapel), has rendered this gentleman so obnoxious to the public.'

"Mr. J. L. Lewin, of Montego Bay, from his activity in behalf of the missionaries, has been subjected to the bitterest malice of their, "The following instances will show that and now his own, enemies. They have intereven individuals of great respectability in the fered between him and his co-partner in busicommunity have not escaped the malice of ness, Mr. Heron, and have even succeeded in persecutors, when they have ventured to inter-compassing a dissolution of the connexion. fere in the behalf of the missionaries. Mr. Roby, Collector of his Majesty's Customs at Montego Bay, was repeatedly subjected to gross insult. On one occasion he was hung in effigy. On the formation of a conservative Corps for the defence of the town, several in

"Mr. Lawrence Hill, of Montego Bay, has been dismissed from his employment for advocating the cause of the missionaries; and medical men have actually refused to attend his family in sickness!"

[graphic][merged small]

THE DROMEDARY DRIVER.

In vast and boundless solitude he stands

ABBOTSFORD.

admission, and the value of his instructions, And round, and round, heaven and the desert DAY springs from distant ocean; calm and bright may be gathered from the conversation which passed upon this occasion:

6

"An overseer who was present, addressing the attorney of the estate which he managed, said, 'He (the clergyman) asked me to allow him to catechise the slaves on the estate, Sir; but I referred him to you. Has he spoken to you, Sir ?' "You did perfectly right. He has not spoken to me yet.' Then he is not to attend, Sir?' Certainly not. He has connected himself with the Church Missionary Society, and it is high time to put down fanaticism in the country.' But the catechist is still attending, Sir. Is he to go on?' 'Oh, the Bishop's catechist. What does he teach? Does he teach reading?' 'No, Sir; he teaches them to repeat the Church Catechism.' 'Nothing more?' 'No, Sir.' 'Then he may be allowed to continue. That can do no harm; IT WILL DO NO GOOD; but it can do no harm. He may go on!'

[merged small][ocr errors]

"When,' asks the writer, will the Bishop's eyes be open to his situation? The lamentable fact is, that he is now merely an instrument in the hands of the planters, by which they are endeavouring to put a stop to the progress of religion in the island! It is enough to make one's heart sick; but it is too true that every zealous clergyman who is anxious to discharge his duty finds himself checked at every point by

meet;

It is a naked universe of sand

That stretches round, and burns beneath the feet:
Stillness, dread stillness, reigns! and he, alone,
Stands where drear solitude has reared his throne.
Look on the ground behold the moistless bed,
Where lies his faithful dromedary, dead!
Mark his despairing look, as his wild eye
Stretches its aching sight, as if to try
To pierce beyond the desert and the sky!

Winds, like a glittering snake, the lovely Tweed ;
Rocks-dewy forests catch the rosy light,
The early bee is humming o'er the mead;
O'er ivied cots the smoke is trailing fair,
And the bird sings, and flow'rs scent all the air.

The shepherd resting on his crook, the line
Of Cheviot mountains distant, dim, and blue;
The waters murmuring as they flow and shine;
Tall spires the summer foliage glancing through,
In Tempe's vale, or Pan's own Arcady.

Quick thoughts-remembrances hopes, deep and Enchant the gazer, till he dreams he be

strong

And wished and prayed he might not tarry long ;
The Arab maid, that wept a fond adieu,
And said she loved him, and she would be true;
And home, and all the scenes of early days,
Come, with a rushing sickness, o'er his soul;
For he sees life fast fleeting to its goal:
He casts around a last despairing gaze
O'er the wide universe of burning sand,
And strikes his forehead with his clenched hand.
And now he hurries on with rapid stride,
As if (vain hope!) to pass the boundless sands,
And reach some clime where gentle waters glide
Through smiling valleys, and green shady lands;

But still the desert rises on his view,
And still the deep sand sinks beneath his tread;
Fainting, he stops exhausted--but anew
Onward in phrenzy runs-his dizzy head
Turns round-oh, God! his tottering knees give
way!

He falls, and dying lies, the fell hyaena's prey.

And here stands Abbotsford-romantic dome !
Attracting more than all this lovely scene;
For glorious genius here hath made a home-
Its turrets whitening o'er the woods of green,
Slopes, larches, to the small forget-me-not,
A magic breathe, and tell of fame and Scott.

Peace, Abbotsford, to thee! and him whose fame
Hath haloed thee with interest ne'er to die;
Linked with his immortality, thy name
With Petrarch's venerated pile shall vie.
Pilgrims from southern land, and o'er the sea,
When we are dust, shall fondly bow to thee.
London.

The villa of Petrarch still stands at Arquato, and, with his tomb, receives during, the year the homage of thousands.

[graphic][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors]

THE MARKET AT TRIESTE. THE following sketch of the Market at Trieste is extracted from " The Pedestrian," by Charles Joseph Latrobe. 1832.

"I consider myself fortunate that I landed in Trieste, at all times a busy bustling city, on a market-day, when it presented itself in its most lively state. The first thing that struck me was the great variety of nations and customers that filled the market-place and port, comprising Greeks, Turks, Armenians, Sclavonians, and others of their class, and groups of peasantry from the neighbouring mountains of Dalmatia, Corinthia, and Illyria, each in a dress more or less peculiar. Then the contents of the market appeared but half European. There were parrots and parroquets to be sold, chattering among the canaries and other foreign-looking birds, that did not seem intended for the table. Above all, I was startled by a row of baskets full of yellow-legged tortoises, struggling in durance vile, and selling for wholesome food like the rest. They came from the woods of Turkey, and are eaten for good and pleasant food on fast-days. Then, as is my custom, I took a turn in the fish-market; for I love to see the odd things that men fish out of the great waters-those with prickles and those with scales, with heads and without them, with ten eyes, and only one great humanlooking eye in the middle of the stomach, with shape and form but without any definite use; all have a charm for nie, and incite me to muse upon the infinite strength of that wisdom that has prescribed a sphere of action and of duty for each, far beyond our comprehension."

Of the peasantry of Carniol, a few miles to the east of Trieste, he says, "The male costume is chiefly striking for the enormous broadbrimmed dark hat and open-kneed breeches; and the women's, for the white shawl, which serves at once for head-dress, veil, and sto

macher. A triangular slip of the face is alone visible, the forehead being covered, and the chin left bare. Hundreds of these white-headed people are seen entering the city early in the morning with bread for city consumption, that being made chiefly at the farms. They have a very singularly shaped head and a peculiar cast of countenance, and are evidently a distinct race from the inhabitants of the opposite shores. The population of the inland parts of Carnolia, Istria, and Dalmatia, is still in a half-savage state. There is, moreover, a most singular race inhabiting the mountainous district between Trieste and Firuma, that supplies the city with charcoal. Their appearance is more like that of the Bedouin of the desert than the civilized European. They wear rude shaggy clothing, and sandals of wood attached to the feet by thongs; and their demeanour comports well with the ideas conveyed by their outward guise."

From the pier he saw the phenomenon thus described: "I there saw, for the first time, that wonderful inhabitant of these seas, vulgarly called the Baccia marina, or marine pot. I had heard much concerning it, for it happened that a few weeks previous to my visit, to the amazement of the whole city, the entire sea appeared one morning covered with them-thousands upon thousands crowding in towards the coast; whence coming and whither going no one knows but that God who created and preserves them. I had, however, but little idea of their form and appearance; for, though I had seen the remains of hundreds upon the beach, where they had been thrown by the surge, the colourless, shapeless mass of jelly conveyed no idea of beauty to the mind; and, when I saw something moving towards the shore with the gentle tide, having every appearancce of being a most beautiful mushroom about fifteen inches in diameter, and a stalk of perhaps two feet long, apparently torn up by the roots, I was tempted to descend and wait its arrival: but when, on a

nearer approach, I discovered a movement which could not be otherwise than spontaneous, I could not help laughing at my own astonishment. In describing it, I cannot do better than maintain the similitude already used-that of a gigantic mushroom torn up by the roots. But what a beautiful mushroom! The general colour of the substance composing it is a delicate transparent white, through which a star, composed of four rays, may be seen in the head. The gills of the same, which form a fine film, appeared crimped in the most exquisite manner, and tinged with purple. The stalk is white, and the seeming roots, forming a bunch of eight lobes, are mostly purple also. The motion by which it travels is to be perceived in the edge of the film surrounding the head, and it seems to have perfect command of its movements. When it is turned from you, so as to allow you to peep under the film, you see a beautiful flower-looking substance, forming the body. As soon as my wonder and admiration would allow me to turn my eyes aside and look around, I found that there were many within sight, moving about among the shipping."

MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW.

THE Massacre of St. Bartholomew was not confined to the capital of France. Vicomte d'Orte, Governor of Bayonne, in the reign of Charles the Ninth, received the infamous order to exterminate all the Protestants within his jurisdiction; and returned the following noble and generous answer :

"Sire,-I have communicated your Majesty's letter to the garrison and to the inhabitants of this city. I have been able to find among them only brave soldiers and good citizens; but not a single executioner."

CURIOUS MANUSCRIPT OF M. DE LA asm.

HARPE.

THE following manuscript has recently been handed to us, and is of so interesting a character that we cannot withhold it from our readers. It purports to have been written by the celebrated M. De la Harpe, and is accompanied by a statement that it was found among his posthumous papers. We have endeavoured in vain to obtain any evidence with respect to its authenticity, and will therefore leave that question to the conjecture of

our readers.

[ocr errors]

ܙܪ

It appears to me as if it were but yesterday: and it was nevertheless in the beginning of the year 1788; we were at the table of a brother academician, who was of the highest rank, and a man of talents. The company was numerous, and of all kinds; courtiers, advocates, literary men, academicians, &c. We had been, as usual, luxuriantly entertained; and, at the dessert, the wines of Malvoine and the Cape added to the natural gaiety of good company that kind of social freedom, which sometimes stretches beyond the rigid decorum of it. In short, we were in a state to allow of anything that would produce mirth. Chamfort had been reading some of his impious and libertine tales, and the fine ladies had heard them without once making use of their fans. A deluge of pleasantries on religion then succeeded; one gave a quotation from the Pucelle D'Orleans; another recollected and applauded the philosophi-and the reign of reason?" cal distitch of Diderot

"Et des Boyeaux du dernier Pretre, Serrez le cou du dernier Roi."

And of the last priest's entrails form the string around the neck of the last king.

A third rises, and, with a bumper in his hand, "Yes, gentlemen," he exclaims, "I am as sure that there is no God as I am certain that Homer was a fool."

man.

23

The conversation afterwards took a more serious turn, and the most ardent admiration was expressed of the revolution which Voltaire had produced, and they all agreed that it formed the brightest day of his glory. "He has given the tou to his age, and has contrived to be read in the chamber as well as in the drawing-room." One of the company mentioned, and almost burst with laughter at the circumstance, that his hair-dresser had said, while he was powdering him, "Look you, Sir: though I am nothing but a poor journeyman barber, I have no more religion than another It was concluded that the revolution would soon be consummated, and that it was absolutely necessary for superstition and fanaticism to give place to philosophy. The probability of this epoch was then calculated, and which of the company present would live to see the reign of reason. The elder part of them lamented that they could not flatter themselves with the hope of enjoying such a pleasure; while the younger part rejoiced in the expectation that they should witness it. The academy was felicitated for having prepared the grand work, and being at the same time the strong hold, the centre, and the moving principle, of freedom of thought.

There was only one of the guests who had not shared in the delights of this conversation; he had not even ventured, in a quiet way, to start a few pleasantries on our noble enthusi

יי? pen

Pucelle." "Oh," it was whispered, "the man is out of his senses!" for, during the whole of his conversation, his countenance never underwent the least change. "Oh, no!" said another, "you must perceive he is laughing at us, for he always blends the marvellous with his pleasantries." "Yes," replied Chamfort," the gaiety. He always looks as if he were going marvellous with him is never enlivened with to be hanged. But when will all this hap"Six years will not have passed away before all which I have told you will be accomplished." “Here, indeed, is plenty of miracles," (it was myself, says M. De la Harpe, who now spoke,) "and you set me down for nothing." You will yourself be a miracle as extraordinary as any which I have told; you will be a Christian." Loud exclamations immediately followed. "Ah!" replied Chamfort, "all my fears are removed; for, if we are not doomed to perish till La Harpe becomes a Christian, we shall be immortal."

66

It was Cazotte, an amiable man, of an original turn of mind, but unfortunately infatuated with the reveries of the illuminati. He renewed the conversation in a very serious tone, and in the following manner:-"Gentlemen," said he, "be satisfied you will all see this grand and sublime revolution. You know that that you will all see it." He was answered by I am something of a prophet, and I repeat the common expression," It is not necessary to be a great conjurer to foretel that." "Agreed: but it may perhaps be necessary to be something more respecting what I am now going to tell you. Have you any idea what will result from this revolution? What will happen to yourselves, to every one now present; what will be the immediate progress of it, with its certain effects and consequences ?" Oh," said Condorcet, with his silly and saturnine laugh, "let us know all about it; a philosopher can have no objection to meet a prophet." "You, M. Condorcet, will expire on the pavement of a dungeon; "As for us women," said the Duchess of you will die of the poison you will have taken Grammont, "it is very fortunate that we are to escape from the hands of the executioner-considered as nothing in these revolutions; of poison which the happy state of that period not that we are totally discharged from all will render it absolutely necessary that you concern in them, but it is understood that in should carry about you At first, there ap- such cases we are to be left to ourselves. Our peared a considerable degree of astonishment; sex- "Your sex, ladies, will be no but it was soon recollected that Cazotte was in guarantee to you in these times; it will make the habit of dreaming when he was awake, no difference whatever, whether you interfere and the laugh was as loud as ever. "M. Caor not. You will be treated precisely as the zotte, the tale which you have just told us is men; no distinction will be made between not so pleasant as your Diable Amoreux. But you." "But what does all this mean, M. what devil has put this dungeon, this poison, Cazotte? You are merely preaching to us and these hangmen in your head? What can about the end of the world." "I know no these things have in common with philosophy more of that, my lady duchess, than yourself; "That is precisely but this I know, that you will be conducted to what I am telling you. It will be in the name the scaffold, with several other ladies along of philosophy, of humanity, and of liberty-it with you, in the cart of the executioner, and will be under the reign of reason, that what I with your hands tied behind you.” "I hope, indeed be the reign of reason, for she will have foretold will happen to you. It will then Sir, in such a case, I shall be allowed at least a coach hung with black." "No, madam, have temples erected to her honour. Nay, you will not have that indulgence. Ladies of throughout France there will be no other higher rank than you will be drawn in a cart places of public worship than the temples of as you will be, and to the same fate as that to reason.” "In faith," said Chamfort, with one which you are destined." "Ladies of higher of his sarcastic smiles, "you will not be an rank than myself? What! princesses of the officiating priest in any of these temples." blood ?” Greater still." Here there was a "I hope not; but you, M. Chamfort, you will very sensible emotion throughout the combe well worthy of that distinction; for you pany, and the countenance of the maitre of will cut yourself across the throat with twenty- the mansion now wore a very grave and two strokes of the razor, and will nevertheless solemn aspect; it was indeed very generally survive the attempt for some months." They observed that this pleasantry was carried rather all looked at him, and continued to laugh. too far. Madam de Grammont, in order to "You (Monsieur Dazyr), you will not open disperse the cloud that seemed to be approachyour veins yourself, but you will order theming, made no reply to his last answer, but to be opened six times in one day, during a contented herself with saying, with an air of paroxysm of the gout, in order that you may gaiety, "You see he will not even leave me a not fail in your purpose, and you will die confessor." "No, madam, that consolation during the night. As for you, M. de Nicolai, will be denied to all of you. The last person you will die on the scaffold; and so, M. Bailly, led to the scaffold, who will be allowed a conwill you; and so will you, M. Malesherbes." fessor, as the greatest of favours, will be"Oh, heavens!" said Roucher, "it appears Here he paused for a moment. "And who that his vengeance is levelled solely against the then is the happy mortal who will be allowed academy: he has just made most horrible to enjoy this prerogative ?" "It is the only execution of the whole of it; now tell me my one which will be left him; it will be the fate, in the name of mercy.' You will die King of France." also upon the scaffold." "Oh!" it was universally exclaimed," he was sworn to exterminate us all." "No, it is not I who have sworn it." "Are we then to be subjugted by Turks and Tartars?" "By no means; I have already told you you will then be governed by reason and philosophy alone. Those who will treat you as I have described will all of them be philosophers, will be continually uttering the same phrases as you have been repeating for the last hour, will deliver all your maxims, and will quote, as you have done, Diderot and

66

[ocr errors]

The master of the house now arose in haste, and his company were all actuated by the same impulse. He then advanced towards M. Cazotte. "We have had enough of these melancholy conceits. You carry it too far, even to the compromising the company with whom you are, and yourself along with them." Cazotte made no answer, and was preparing to retire; when Madam de Grammont, who wished if possible to do do away all serious impressions, and restore some kind of gaiety among them, advanced towards him, and

said, "My good prophet, you have been so kind as to tell us all our fortunes, but you have not mentioned any thing respecting your own." After a few moments' silence, with his eyes fixed on the ground, "Madam," he replied, "have you read the siege of Jerusalem, as related by Josephus ?" "To be sure I have, and who has not? But you may suppose, if you please, that I know nothing about it." "Then you must know, madam, that during the siege of Jerusalem, a man, for seven successive days, went round the ramparts of that city, in the sight of the besiegers and besieged, crying incessantly, in a loud and inauspicious voice, Woe to Jerusalem! And on the seventh day he cried, "Woe to Jerusalem and to myself!' At that very moment an enormous stone thrown by the machines of the enemy dashed him in pieces." M. Cazotte then made his bow and retired.

Thus far M. de la Harpe. Those who recollect the melancholy exit of all the characters above mentioned, during the reign of terror in France, must be astonished at the exact fulfilment of this remarkable prediction, so unlikely to be accomplished at the time it was uttered.

EX-KINGS AT THE CARNIVAL OF VENICE.

A Chapter translated from "Candide.” THIS is a tale of former times, not inapplicable to the present: "One night Candide, attended by Martin, was just going to sit down at the supper-table with six strangers who were lodging at the same hotel, and had come to pass the Carnival at Venice, when a person of very sooty complexion accosted him from behind, and, taking hold of his arm, said, 'Get ready to depart with us, do not fail.' He turned round, and saw it was Cacambo. Cacambo, who served as cup-bearer to one of the strangers, addressed his master, as soon as supper was over, "Sire, your Majesty may depart whenever you think proper-the vessel is ready.' Hearing these words, the astonished guests looked at one another without speaking a single word; when another servant came and addressed his master: Sire, your Majesty's coach is at Padua, and the vessel is ready.' The master made a sign, and the servant went away. The guests looked at each other again, and their mutual surprise was redoubled. A third valet, approaching a third stranger, said to him, 'Sire, take my advice; your Majesty had better not remain here any longer; I will get every thing ready for your departure:' and immediately he disappeared.

"Candide and Martin had no doubt that all this was a Carnival masquerade. A fourth servant came up to a fourth master, 'Every thing is in readiness for your Majesty's departure;" and, like the others, he also went away. The fifth valet made a similar address to the fifth stranger; but the sixth spoke in a different manner to his master, who happened to be sitting next Candide: Indeed, Sire, they will not give any more credit, either to your Majesty or to me; and we stand a chance of being both locked up in jail this very night. I must take care of myself-adieu.'

gular sort of jest: how comes it that you are all kings? I confess that neither Martin nor myself have the honour to be so.' Cacambo's master gravely replied, speaking Italian, ‘I assure you, I am by no means in jest. I am Achmet the Third. I was grand Sultan for many years; I dethroned my brother, and my nephew has dethroned me. My Viziers have had their heads cut off, and the remnant of my life is to be passed in the old seraglio. My nephew, the grand Sultan Mahmoud, allows me to travel sometimes for my health, and I am come to pass the Carnival at Venice.' "A young man who was next to Achmet then spoke: My name is Ivan; I was Emperor of all the Russias, but was dethroned in my cradle. My father and mother were imprisoned, and in prison they brought me up. I have permission to travel occasionally, attended by those who have the custody of me; and I also am come to pass the Carnival at Venice.' King of England. My father conferred on me the rights of royalty; I fought to maintain them; eight hundred of my partisans were put to flight-slaughtered-disemboweled. I was arrested at Paris, taken prisoner to Vincennes, and am now going to Rome to pay a visit to the king, my father, who was also dethroned, like myself and my grandfather; and I am come to pass the Carnival at Venice.'

"The third said, 'I am Charles-Edward,

"The fourth spoke in these words: 'I am King of the Poles. The chances of war deprived me of my hereditary dominions; my father experienced the same reverses of fortune. I resign myself to Providence, like the Sultan Achmet, the Emperor Ivan, and the King Charles-Edward, to whom may God grant long life! I am come to pass the Carnival at Ve

nice.'

"The fifth said, 'I am also King of the Poles. I lost my kingdom twice; but Providence has given me another state, in which I have done more good than all the kings of the Sarmatians together have ever done on the banks of the Vistula. I likewise resign' myself to Providence; and am come to pass the Carnival at Venice."

"The sixth monarch now alone remained to

speak: 'Gentlemen,' said he, 'I am not so great a sovereign as you; but, nevertheless, I have been a king like yourselves. My name is Theodore: I was elected King of Corsica, and they called me Your Majesty, while at present they scarcely deign to call me Monsieur. 1 have coined money, and now I have not a farthing belonging to me. I have had two Secretaries of State, and now I have hardly a valet. I have been seated on a throne, and for a long time I was doomed to sleep on straw within the walls of a prison at London. To say the truth, I have reason to fear I shall be in the same situation here, though I am come, like your Majesties-to pass the Carnival at Venice.'

[ocr errors]

"The five kings listened to this discourse with a most royal compassion: each gave twenty sequins to King Theodore, to enable him to buy a few shirts and some clothes. Candide presented him with a diamond worth two thousand sequins. How is this,' exclaimed the five monarchs, in astonishment, that a private individual should be in a situation to give a hundred times as much as each of us; and what is more, that he should give it too? Just as they were rising from table, "All the servants having left the room, the six four other Most Serene Highnesses,' who had strangers, as well as Candide and Martin, pre-been driven from their States by the fortune of served a profound silence. At last, Candide war, entered the Hotel, with an intention-to thus interrupted it: Gentlemen, this is a sinpass the Carnival at Venice."

EDITH.

Weep not, weep not, that in the spring
We have to make a grave;
The flowers will grow, the birds will sing,
The early roses wave,

And make the sod we're spreading fair
For her who sleeps below;
We might not bear to lay her there
In winter frost and snow.

We never hoped to keep her long:
When but a fairy child,
With dancing step and bird-like song,
And eyes that only smiled,
A something shadowy and frail
Was even in her mirth;
She looked a flower that one rough gale
Would bear away from earth.
There was too clear and blue a light
Within her radiant eyes:
They were too beautiful, too bright,
Too like their native skies;
Too changeable the rose which shed
Its colour on her face,
Now burning with a passionate red,
Now with just one faint trace.

She was too thoughtful for her years,
Its shell the spirit wore;
And when she smiled away our fears,
We only feared the more.
The crimson deepened on her cheek,
Her blue eyes shone more clear,
And every day she grew more weak,
And every hour more dear.

Her childhood was a happy time,

The loving and beloved; Yon sky, which was her native clime, Hath but its own removed. This earth was not for one to whom Nothing of earth was given; 'Twas but a resting place-her tombBetween the world and heaven.

THE CLYDE AND TWEED.

BY JOHN MACKAY WILSON.

Nursed on a rocky mountain's breast,
Two twin-born rivers played;
And parting-one rushed fleetly west,
The other eastward strayed.
The Clyde rolled on a warrior's song
Of triumph; while the Tweed
With stilly murmur swept along,
Its voice the shepherd's reed.

A bridegroom, leaping light with joy,
On, onward bounded Clyde;
The Tweed, a maiden, timid, coy,
Moved like a blushing bride.

The Clyde rushed forth in glory, where
The sunbeams revelled wild:
The Tweed, in beauty softly fair,

Was kissed by moonlight mild.
The Clyde, a bright and dark-eyed maid,
Commanding met the view;
The Tweed, in modest grace arrayed,
Would fondly, gently woo.

Sublimity and beauty's tread
Impressed their favoured Clyde,
While loveliness hung o'er her Tweed,
And slumbered on its side.
The Clyde embraced a golden Firth,
Where lake and mountain shone,
And fairy islands left the earth

To deck her marriage throne.
The Tweed her deckings cast aside,
Plain was her bridal bed,—
Fair Tweed, an unadorned bride,
The hoary ocean wed!

THE CALENDAR OF THE FRENCH

REVOLUTION.

On the 5th October, 1793, during the awful reign of ROBESPIERRE, when the French rulers employed themselves alternately in deeds of death and minute attention to trifles, a new calendar, framed by FABRE D'EGLANTINE, was presented to the convention, at that time ruled despotically by ROBESPIERRE, formed upon so republican a model as effectually to destroy every allusion either to things before held sacred as relating to the Deity, or respectable, as complimentary to human virtue in past ages. As all important facts connected with the history of France during the short period of this calendar's existence were recorded according to this new nomenclature, intended to designate the actual passing seasons, it may be interesting to show, by the following table, in what manner the French months agreed with those of other nations, and to which even France itself found it absolutely necessary to revert.

Summ. Spring Winter Aut.

French Months.

Signification. English Months. 1. Vendemaire.....Vintage......Sept. 22 2. Brumaire.... .Foggy ........Oct. 22 3. Frimaire...... .Frosty ........Nov. 21 4. Nivose...........Snowy........Dec. 21 5. Pluviose... Rainy.........Jan. 20 Windy.... .Feb. 19

6. Ventose

7. Germinal...... .Budding......March 21 8. Floreal.......... Flowery.......April 20 9. Prairial. ..Hay Harvest..May 20 10. Alessdor...... .Corn Harvest June 19 11. Thermidor ....Hot............July 19 12. Fructidor...... Fruit...........Aug. 18 By the preceding table it will be seen, that the French year commenced on the 22nd of September, or on the autumnal equinox, a period universally acnowledged to be inconsistent with reason and the long recorded phenomena of nature, the sun being then retrograde, and its annual course drawing towards a termination; but the revolutionary and impious mania for obliterating all allusions to the Deity, by those who taught that "death was only an eternal sleep," rendered that deluded and versatile people regardless of established customs and opinions, however sanctioned by the experience and authority of ages, provided that, by the introduction of a novel system, the great object of the revolutionists might be promoted by the innovation; and yet the people of France, and even the convention, were themselves conscious of the gross absurdity of this vainly denominated "Calendar of Reason," and attempted to explain their selection of the 22nd of September as having originated in a principle of policy, it being impossible to establish it on that of the course of nature. On the 21st of September, 1792, the representatives of the nation had pronounced the abolition of royalty; on the 22nd, it was formally proclaimed, and that day decreed to be thenceforth deemed the FIRST of the REPUBLIC; and it was solely to accord with such new era that religion and philosophy were sacrificed on the altar of innovation.

The division of the year into months of 30 days each, and of those months into Decades, produced no improvement on the ancient system; for as, by that regulation, only 360 days were comprehended in the 12 months, they were compelled to add five others to make out the number of the ordinary year, and six to every fourth or bissextile year, thereby rendering their calendar inaccurate.

[merged small][ocr errors][merged small]

new government.

[blocks in formation]

Death falls heavily upon him who is too much known to others, and too little to himself,-SE

NECA.

REMARKABLE ESCAPE.

Among other puerilities and absurdities of the French calendar, may also be included the borrowed application of the titles of the months, intended as they were to be expressive of the various seasons of production, maturity, decay, and torpidity of the vegetable world. In a territory comprehending climates lowed by a lion, and concluding that the aniA HOTTENTOT, perceiving that he was folso diversified as that of France, the variations mal only waited the approach of night to make of the seasons must necessarily defy any de- him his prey, began to consider of the best scription that can be universally appropriate; method of providing for his safety; which he at and an English wit, disgusted with the "nam-length effected in the following singular manby-pamby" style of the French calendar, ridi- ner:-Observing a piece of broken ground, with a culed this new method of registering time in precipitate descent on one side, he sat down by the following ludicrous translation of their the edge of it, and found, to his great joy, that months, as divided by them into seasons, conthe lion also made a halt, and kept at the same sidering it a critique more suitable to the in- distance as before. As soon as it grew dark, significance of the subject, than argument or the Hottentot, sliding gently forward, let himgrave discussion. self down a little below the edge of the hill, and held up his cloak and hat upon a stick, making at the same time a gentle motion with it; the lion, in the meanwhile, came creeping softly towards him, like a cat, and, mistaking the skin cloak for the man himself, made a spring, and fell headlong down the precipice.

AUTUMN-wheezy, sneezy, freezy.
WINTER-Slippy, drippy, nippy.
SPRING-showery, flowery, bowery.
SUMMER-hoppy, croppy, poppy.

This system, which originated in crime, folly,
and ignorance, was abandoned in the year
1805, by a senatus-consulte of the 9th of Sep-Wood's Animals.
tember.

THE DIAL OF FLOWERS.

BY MRS. HEMANS.

T.

'Twas a lovely thought to mark the hours,
As they floated in light away,
By the opening and the folding flowers
That laugh to the summer's day.

Thus had each moment its own rich hue,
And its graceful cup or bell,

In whose colour'd vase might sleep the dew,
Like a pearl in an ocean-shell."

To such sweet signs might the time have flow'd
In a golden current on,

Ere from the garden, man's first abode,
The glorious guests were gone.

So might the days have been brightly told-
Those days of song and dreams-
When shepherds gather'd their flocks of old,
By the blue Arcadian streams.

So in those isles of delight that rest

Far off in a breezeless main,
Which many a bark, with a weary quest,
Hath sought, but still in vain.
Yet is not life, in its real flight,

Mark'd thus-even thus-on earth,
By the closing of one hope's delight,
And another's gentle birth?

Oh! let us live, so that flower by flower,
Shutting in turn, may leave

A lingerer still for the sunset hour,
A charm for the shaded eve.

• This dial was, I believe, formed by Linnæus, and marked the hours by the opening and closing, at regular intervals, of the flowers arranged in it.

FOR

OR the CURE of COUGHS, COLDS, ASTHMAS, SHORTNESS of BREATH, &c. &c.WALTER'S ANISEED PILLS.-The numerous and respectable Testimonials daily received of the extraordi nary efficacy of the above Pills, in curing the most distressing and long-established diseases of the pulmonary and respiratory organs, induce the Proprietor to recomiend them to the notice of those afflicted with the above complaints, conceiving that a Medicine which has now stood the test of experience for several years cannot be too generally known. They are composed entirely of balsamic and vegetable ingredients, and are so speedy in their beneficial effects, that in ordinary cases a few doses have been found sufficient; and, unlike most Cough Medicines, they neither affect the head, confine the bowels, nor produce any of the unpleasant sensations so frequently complained of. The following cases are submitted to the Public from many in the Proprietor's possession:-K. Boke, of Globelane, Mile-end, was perfectly cured of a violent cough, attended with hoarseness, which rendered his speech inaudible, by taking three or four doses. E. Booley, of Queenstreet, Spitalfields, after taking a few doses, was entirely cured of a most inveterate cough, which he had had for many months, and tried almost every thing without success. Prepared by W. Walter, and sold by I. A. Sharwood, No. 55, Bishopsgate Without, in boxes, at 1s. 1d. and three in one for 2s. 9d.; and by appointment, by Han nay and Co., No. 63, Oxford-street; Green, No. 42, Whitechapel-road; Prout, No. 226, Strand; Sharp, Cross-street, Islington; Pink, No. 65, High-street, Borough; Allison, No. 130, Brick-lane, Bethnal-green; Farrar, Upton-place, Commercial-road; Hendebourck, 326, Holborn; and by all the wholesale and retail Medicine Venders in the United Kingdom.-N.B. In consequence of the increased demand for this excellent Medicine, the Public are cautioned against Counterfeits-none can be genuine unless signed by I.A. Sharwood on the Government Stamp, and W. Walter on the outside wrapper.-Be sure to ask for "Walter's Aniseed Pills.'

[ocr errors]

Printed by J. HADDON and Co.; and Published by J. CRISP, at No. 27, Ivy Lane, Paternoster Row, where all Advertisements and Communications for the Editor are to be addressed.

« PreviousContinue »