The Bell was the prerogative of the Lock-smith, though we find it in use among all trades: by some of whom it has been claimed as a rebus on their name. The enormities practised by the connexion of objects so widely different from each other, as the Fox and Seven Stars, the Goose and Gridiron, the Bell and Neat's Tongue, the Lamb and Dolphin, and the Leg and Star, "over against the Royal Exchange, in Cornhill, London, 1658,"-may be reconciled by the following illustration: It is usual for a young tradesman, at his first setting up, to add to his own sign that of the master whom he served, as the husband after marriage gives a place to his mistress's arms in his own coat." These whimsicalities have been rendered still more ridiculous by the perversion of names from their original import: thus we have the Swan with Two Necks-g. d. the swan with two nicks-or marks. We are told by an inscription over the Talbot InnYard, in the Borough, that Geoffrey Chaucer and twenty-nine pilgrims rested there on their journey to Canterbury, in 1489. Its present title is a corruption of Tabard, the name given "to a jacket, or sleeveless coat, whole before, open on both sides, with a square collar, winged at the shoulder," somewhat similar to that worn by our heralds in pageants and processions, and when worn" in the wars," like it having "their arms embroidered or otherwise depicted thereon. The witty poet of "olden time" notices at length the accommodation afforded in "Southwerk, at the Tabard," to him and his fellow travellers. "Wel nine-and-twenty in a campagnie He informs us "The chambres and the stables weren wide And proceeds to acquaint us with "Th' estate, the arraie, the nombre aud eke the cause We have the Bell-Savage-represented in the Spectator's time by the figure of a wild man standing beside a bell!-for the Belle Sauvage; and the Bull and Mouth for the Boulogne Mouth; i. e. harbour. Stow, speaking of Gisor's Hall, has these remarks, so peculiarly applicable to our present purpose: A THOUGHT. Written on the first day of the New Year. Waking from my sleep, I said, GROG AND SEA-BISCUITS. Two maiden dames of sixty-two But age comes on they say, apace, One of these dames tormented sore "I've heard," thought she," this ill to cure And smoke the pain away,” The pipe was lit, the tooth soon well, "Let me request a favour, pray !——" "Oh! well then, love, smoke every day You smell so like a man!" A GEOFFREY GIMCRACK. ARTS AND SCIENCES. METEOROLOGY. Meteorological Report of the Atmospherical Pressure and Temperature, Rain, Wind, &c. deduced from diurnal obser vations made at Manchester, in the month of July, 1823, by THOMAS HANSON, Surgeon. .BAROMETRICAL PRESSURE. The Monthly Mean...... "It appears (says he) that this Gisor's Hall of late time, by corruption, hath been called Gerrard's Hall for Gisor's Hall; as Bevis Marks for Bury's Marks; Mark-lane for Martlane; Billiter-lane for Bell Setter's-lane; Gutter-lane for Guthurun's-lane; Cry or Cree Church for Christ's Church; | Greatest variation in 24 hours, which was on St. Michael's in the Quern for St. Michael's at Corn, and such others." In Pannier-alley, Newgate-street, is the figure of a naked boy, sitting on what has been generally represented as a pannier, but which resembles more a coil of rope. " It bears the following inscription: WHEN YV HAVE SOVGHT THE CITTY ROVND YET STILL THIS IS THE HIGHEST GROUND AVGVST THE 27 1688. By some, this figure has been considered as emblematic of plenty, and once held in its hand a bunch of grapes; but Hughson supposes it the sign of one Henry Prannel, citizen and vintner." Pennant imagines it to have been originally a sepulchral monument, removed from some adjoining church, but, from the peculiar appropriateness of the inscription to its present situation, I am inclined to think it still retains its original position. The privilege of distinguishing swans by marks or nicks, was deemed of sufficient consequence to deserve ja place in grants and incorporation charters, for we find "the privilege of keeping and preserving swans and cygnets, and a swan-mark for the same," with liberty" to change and alter that swan mark at pleasure," frequently vouchsafed in deeds of this description. Engraved by J. Carter in Pennant's London. the 24th. Spaces, taken from the daily means... Number of changes ....... TEMPERATURE. Monthly Mean.... Inches. 29.64 29.95 29.30 .65 .38 2.9 10 Degrees. 59°.1 Mean of the 1th1 decade, com. on the 29th June 59.2 58.9 59.1 71. 47. 24. 12th. 22.4 CORRESPONDENCE. SOUTHPORT. TO THE EDITOR, SIR,-Paul Pry writes well. He gives us a romantic description of this " sandy" village. Could he not have amused himself and others by presenting an animated picture of scenes equally interesting to those which he has so beautifully enlarged upon? Could he not have told us how pleasant a thing it was to see ladies walking on the shore, whilst men in a state of nudity approached the bathing machines with water scarcely up to their knees? How very agreeable it must be to behold one's wife, daughters, and sisters bathing at one and the same time "cheek by jowl" with all descriptions of inen, both high and low! "What a source of delight" it must be to the ladies to have "handsome John," or some other handsome fellow to bathe them! Such snblime and beautiful sights are daily to be seen at this neat and elegant watering place," and it really requires the "eyes of Argus to pay attention to them all." But to be serious. I hesitate not to say, that at no watering place in Great Britain is decency so openly violated as at Southport. It is complained of by every one-yet opposed, apparently, by none. Those who have witnessed the various disgusting scenes, I have alluded to, will not, cannot, easily forget them. At the same time it must be admitted as a lamentable fact (and I am sorry to state it) that at Southport, ladies appear to have no great objection to be spectators of those unseemly sights, of which, at home, they would blush at even the bare thought. If Paul Pry can offer any thing in "extentuation of such deeds," I hope the columns of the Iris will be open to him. J. G. D-N. Salford, August 6, 1823. VARIETIES. A. SHAVER-In one of the large towns of England, a traveller passing a barber's shop, saw on the window, "What do you think, I'll shave you for nothing and give you some drink." He immediately concluded, "He's a droll fellow, I'll go in." He did so; and sat down to be shaved. Under the operation he inquired into the state of trade, and was answered, that it was flat. He then adverted to the address on the window, and if he really acted upon it, and shaved for nothing, observing that he said so. "O no!" replied the barber; "people do not read right;" and then read it for him: "What! do you think I'll shave you for nothing, and give you some drink." MARBLE PONDS OF PERSIA. This natural curiosity consists of certain pools, or plashes, whose indolent waters, by a slow and regular process, stagnate, concrete, and petrify, producing that beautiful transparent stone commonly called Tabriz marble, much used in the burial places of Persia, and in their best edifices. These ponds are contained within the circumference of half a mile, and their position is distinguished by heaps of stone, which have accumulated as the excavations have increased. The petrifactive process may be traced from its commencement to its termination; in one partthe water is clear; in a second, it appears thicker and stagnant; in a third, quite black; and in its last stage it is white like a boar frosts When the operation is: complete, a stone thrown on its surface makes no im pression, and a man may walk over it without wetting his shoes. Such is the constant tendency of this water to become stone, that when it exudes from the ground in bubbles, the petrifaction assumes a globular shape, as if the bubbles of a spring, by a stroke of magic, had been arrested in their play, and metamorphosed into stone. The substance thus produced is brittle, transparent, and sometimes richly streaked with green, red, and copper coloured veins. It admits of being cut into very large slabs, and takes a good polish. So much is this stone looked on as an article of luxury, that none: but the King, his sons, and persons privileged by special firma, are permitted to take it. IMMENSE SWARM OF LOCUSTS.-Soon after an earthquake, or seaquake, that occurred at Cabenda, and which extended to some distance to the southward and northward of that port, a flight of locusts took place, that continued three days and three nights, so that the sea was literally covered with their drowned carcases; and the ship's decks, masts, yards, and rigging swarmed with them, to such excess, as to require the constant attention of the crews, to sweep them overboard. The earthquake, which had preceded their fight only a few hours, drove in upon the shore from the westward several tremendous seas, so as to cause some of the véssels, when in the trough of them, to strike the ground in five and a half fathoms of water. Many of the natives, both here and at Malemba, were drowned upon the beach, in consequence of it being so very narrow, and the cliffs which bound it so extremely precipitous, that they could not escape the overwhelming waves which came suddenly upon them. To this calamity was added, the destruction of many canoes, by this sudden inundation of the sea; and the locusts destroyed every blade of grass and all the vegetable productions of the soil, for many miles round.-Adams. PRONE SAVAGE.-It is stated in a letter from a traveller in Batavia, that a savage has been found in the woods of the island, who must, it is thought, have lost himself in the earlier part of his youth. He now seems to be about 30 years of age, yet speaks no articulate language, but bellows like a brute; or rather barks, as his voice is like a dog. He runs on all-fours, and as soon as he perceives any human being, he climbs up a tree like a monkey, and springs from one branch to another. When he sees either a bird or game, he catches at it, and very seldom misses his prey. As yet he has not been able to accustom to the usual mode of living and food of the human species. REPOSITORY OF GENIUS. "And justly the Wise-man thus preach'd to us all,"Despise not the value of things that are small."Old Ballad. ENIGMA. There is a certain natural production, neither animal, from the surface of the ground;-neither male nor female, but generally between both; has neither height, length, breadth, nor thickness; is often mentioned in the Old Testament, and strongly recommended in the New. FASHIONS FOR AUGUST. EVENING DRESS.-Dress of pink crape, ornamented with silk spots the corsage is made plain and cut bias, and trimmed round the bust with triple leaves of watered gros de Naples: short full sleeve of corded bands, interwoven with similar leaves. The corsage and skirt early, missed nothing, and began to exult in their se- were secured, and the thieves retired as they came un- PHEASANTS.It is not generally known, that phea- ENGLISH OPIUM.-Messrs. Cowley and Staines, of Wimslow, Bucks, have cultivated poppies for opium, with such success, as to induce the belief that this branch of agriculture is of national importance and worthy of support. In 1821 they produced 60 pounds of solid opium, equal to the best Turkey, from rather less than four acres and a half. The seed was sown in Feb-equal caution, from one to another, until the whole ruary, came up in March, and the gathering commenced in the latter end of July, when the poppies had lost their petals and were covered with a bluish white bloom. By horizontal incisions, opium was procured from them daily, until the produce would no longer bear the expense; 97 pounds I ounce were obtained for £31. 11s. 24d. which, when properly evaporated, yielded 60 pounds of dried opium. The poppies stood till they became yellow, about the middle of August; they were then pulled and laid in rows on the land, and when dry, seeds were got from them amounting to 13 cwt. which was expected to yield 714 gallons of oil. The oil-cake was used with great advantage in feeding cattle. From the capsule from which the seed is obtained, an extract may be got by cold water, eight grains of which are equal to one of opium, an acre producing 80 pounds, and the poppy straw, when laid in the yard in a compact heap makes excellent manure. The quantity of opium consumed in this country is about 50,000 pounds, which could be easily raised in many parts where there is dry land and a superfluous population. On the moderate calculation of 10 pounds per acre, 5000 acres would be sufficient, which would employ about 50,000 people, such as are not calculated for common agricultural labour, and at a time when there is scarcely other labour for them, viz. between hay time and harvest. SINGULAR INSTANCE OF DEXTERITY IN THE Art OF THIEVING. The village of Seringapettah, near Tanjore, in Southern India, has long been noted for the dexterity of its thieves. The following anecdote is related by Major Mackworth, on the authority of Col. Blackburne, in his Diary of a Tour through Southern India, Egypt, aud Palestine, in the years 1821 and 1822. Some years ago, a detachment of the King's artillery, intending to halt there for the night, were advised of this propensity of the natives, and recommended to be well on their guard against it. The two officers in charge of the detachment, as well as the men, ridiouled and scorned the idea of these poor wretches being able to rob the King's artillery; but they nevertheless took the precaution of placing centries over all the tents, and a double one at that of the quarter guard, with strict orders to be more than usually watchful and vigilant. The inhabitants of Seringapettah, through the means of the native servants, heard that their skill in thieving was set at nought, and their vanity was proportionably piqued. Next morning the officers rising THE TREASURES OF THE DEEP. (From the New Monthly Magazine.) What hid'st thou in thy treasure-caves and cells? We ask not such from thee. Yet more, Yet more, the Depths have more!-Thy waves have roll'd Yet more! the Billows and the depths have more Give back the lost and lovely!—those for whom To thee the love of woman hath gone down, are set in a corded band, and fasten behind. The skirt is trimmed with two rows of watered gros de Naples, separated into regular divisions at top and bottom, edged with cord, and drawn with a little fulness in the centre a rouleau of watered gros de Naples at the bottom of the dress. Ballasteros hat of tulle; the front is turned up, and edged with white satin and narrow blond, and ornamented with two satin rouleaus, about half an sandalled. BALL DRESS.-The Dress of blue tulle: the corsage round, and moderately high; full in the back and front, and confined round the bottom with a band of satin folds and tulle beneath is a wreath, composed of floss silk, satin, and blond. Short full sleeve of tulle, set in a corded band, and ornamented with floss silk leaves of the mountain ash, and triangular trimmings of satin edged with narrow blond; satin band with corded edges round the waist; the bow behind formed of small pointed leaves, corded and edged with blond. A wadded satin hem at the bottom of the skirt, which is made long, and indicates an inclination of resuming the train, which gives grace and elegance to the figure, and is particularly appropriate to fall dress, except for the ball room. Above the hem is an ornamented wave of floss silk, satin and tulle, from which a branch or scroll rises, supporting three circular fancy flowers. Brussels lace scarf. The hair is dressed a la Grecque, but ornamented with Milanese pins of gold, with heads of imitative turquoise; on each side is a ball of the same, and a second pending from the left. Necklace and ear-rings of turquoise, set in embossed gold, and fastened by cameo snaps. White kid gloves, trimmed and tied at the elbow. Ivory fan, and white satin shoes. TO CORRESPONDENTS. F. Tamper's outline is quite enough: the ladies should be al lowed to cater for themselves.-We have lately had so many communications upon female stays, waists, forms, and fashions, and all from the masculine gender, that we are an der the necessity of consigning them, indiscriminately, to the tomb of all the Capulets. Leonora shall have no further cause of complaint. R. Y. is mistaken, or misinformed; he should apply person Elizabeth excites our compassion-We admire the intensity of A WEEKLY LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MISCELLANY. The extensive circulation of the IR15, renders it a very desirable medium for ADVERTISEMENTS of a LITERARY and SCIENTIFIC nature, comprising Education, Institutions, Sales of Libraries, &c. No. 81.-VOL. II. RECOLLECTIONS OF THE PAST! HOW sweet,-how dear to the heart, are the recollections of the past-the scenes of youth and hope, the dreaming days of pleasure; they bring with them their own sweet odour, like the soft breathing of a summer morn over a bed of flowers; there is an hallowed light continually around them. Hours and hours have I spent, seated in my easy chair, before a fading fire, the candle drooping in the socket, rising and falling, struggling like poor man for a moment more of existence, my book in one hand and my head reposing on the other, lost in the charming reverie of days gone by. I was always fond of quiet and solitude, from the first moment I could distinguish the gradations of pleasure. When at school and absent, my tutor always knew where I should be found, my own bed-chamber, or a park adjoining the village. Here the moments flew fast; I wandered by the side of the rippling stream, and watched the golden trout, I followed the nimble squirrel, and put to flight the bounding deer; perhaps sketched some distant view that took my fancy, or read the pages of some interesting volume,-books and nature were my great delight. Yet even in those days care will haunt us. It is a wrong conception to suppose childhood the peculiar period of happiness; if our troubles are not then of so great magnitude, our minds are equally incapable of bearing them. What can be a greater source of fear and dismay, than to behold the rod hanging in terrorem over us; or when do we now experience greater anxiety, than that which formerly sprang from our not being able to place a correct exercise, before the penetrating glance of Master Thwackum. To the best of my recollection, this, in years past, was as great a source of trouble, as the loss of a customer, or a bad debt, is at this period. Time magnifies the mind as our troubles are increased, and it is the wisdom of Providence which bids them spring together. Our delights, too, are the same; the more we become capable of supporting care, the less susceptible are we of smaller pleasures; what was once happiness, is now deemed folly. The thoughts of seeing home, were formerly anticipated many weeks before the day arrived, and every moment was filled with some pleasing speculation who would be ready to meet us, where we should first behold father and mother, how the time was to be spent, and a thousand pleasing fancies, filled up the interval with joys of imagination, day dreams of delight. Would it be so now?-no, we have learnt by experience that pleasure is as a bubble on the face of the water; the moment we seize it the shadow is gone. We now feel more delight in recounting our numerous follies, in musing and reflecting upon scenes that have faded away, than in merely anticipating the future. When children, there was pleasure even in the expectation of a sunny day in watching every variation of cloud that passed along, for fear it should amass itself into gloom and darkness. Now we arise, thank heaven it was a fine day yesterday, and look for a shower before evening! Really I should have SATURDAY, AUGUST 16, 1823. no wish, (might I be allowed) to spend those hours again, if they were to be accompanied with the same feelings of anxiety and fear; though looking at them through the telescope of time, considering them as days gone by, they give to the mind the sweetest of sensations. The dear delights of an expected holiday, the pleasure arising from a trick played upon the patient usher, the ecstacy of an unlooked for visit or present from home, were all overwhelmed by their respective troubles. But there are other days, other scenes I love most to dwell upon, when leaving school and school-boy thoughts behind, I soared to higher paths, higher enjoyments. When ambition fired my breast, when I longed to follow in the steps of those great characters whom my country had been proud to claim, whom others envied, to whose deeds all nations paid the tribute of respect over whose tomb none ceased to mourn. At one time how I revelled in the delightful witcheries of Shakespeare, meeting my friends at every turn," the action suited to the word," with exclamations of love, or raging bursts of passion, sighing with Romeo, storming with Othello, declaiming with Brutus, and weeping with Hamlet. I fancied myself already a Kean, I heard the shouts of bravo, the thunders of applause, and already saw my name in scarlet characters that they might be the better read, announcing me positively for one night only. I remember once suddenly turning upon a Yorkshire servant of my father's, with the tremendous exclamation of "Wretch I'll tear thee piece meal," "Yees sir, yees sir," cried the undaunted tyke, "but dunna tear ma inexpressibles."-At another time I became in my own conceit a second Curran, and was continually addressing myself to my Lord and Gentlemen of the Jury Again, mounting upon a chair or sofa, I fancied myself a Chalmers, and put forth my orations as a great divine; at length, however, the scene vanished, and another in the shape of a moonlight night, a garden and a delightful girl, bound me in a spell that never changed. And this is youth, the morning of life, the dream of happiness; how sweet the recollection-I could muse on such scenes for ever; but my taper grows dim, the stars are glittering on high, the mists are rolling over the dark blue mountains, nature There will a time come, when that rest shall seems to set me the example, and I retire to rest. never be broken. PAUL PRY. PRICE 3ld. stowed. The tutor's zeal and the scholar's progress kept pace with each other, and joy and happiness were the result. Panphile had so much confidence in his son's discretion, that he left him at full liberty in his choice of books, both ancient and modern. One day, Theotime entered his father's apartment, his countenance beaming with joy, and exclaimed,Ah! papa, what a beautiful thing I have been reading! what a happy idea! what a useful discovery!'. Well, my son, what is it?' Oh! how delightful! -but I dare notSpeak.' I fear you will ridicule me.'-No, no; speak, go on.'-' You will say it is a folly, but really I think it a desirable folly.' A desirable folly! I cannot understand you; explain yourself. Well, I obey.'-He then related the story of Momus, who, chosen as umpire between Neptune, Minerva, and Vulcan, the first of whom had pro duced a bull, the second a house, and the third a man, gave the palm to the latter at the same time remark- "Con gli occhi della mente il cor si vede." You are at present too young to feel the force of this truth, but you will one day acknowledge, with me, that study, experience, and observation, enable us to discover, in the eyes and countenance of a man, the thoughts and feelings he would conceal in his heart.'— Do you really think so?'-'I hope to be able to prove the truth of my assertion in the course of our walk : let us therefore set out.' Panphile and his son proceeded towards the great square of the city; here the attention of Theotime was quickly arrested by a man magnificently dressed, whose countenance was proud, his gait grave, and, though salutations, or did so disdainfully. What do you think bowed to by every one, he either did not return their of that man,' said Panphile to his son. 'I think he must be some great personage renowned for his birth, talents, and virtues. For his birth, perhaps ; but not for his virtues nor his talents.-Observe the homage that is offered to him, and to which he vouchsafes no attention; he is either a coxcomb or a fool !'-' Papa, what are you venturing to say?'-'The truth.' Whilst noble, whispered familiarly in his ear, and received uttering these words, Panphile saw one of his friends, a banker, named Cratillo, who, approaching the proud from him a bow of protection, upon which he retired with a profound obeisance. Panphile accosted his friend, and questioned him concerning this stranger: Cratillo informed him that he was a Sicilian prince, and that he was going to his house in the afternoon to pay him a bill of exchange. Upon this Panphile begged that he would contrive some means of enabling him and Panphile, a respectable citizen of Salerno, a virtu- his son to observe more nearly this predigy of pride ous enlightened man, not opulent, but possessing a and vanity, which Cratillo promised to do, Accordcompetency, lived happily at home. His motto was ingly, Theotime and Panphile, disguised as stock-brokthat of Horace—aurea mediocritas.—Left a widower in ers, accompanied Cratillo to the hotel of the Sicilian beloved wife, this interesting pledge of their love, be- and his two agents were announced; impatient to rethe prime of life, with an only son,-this image of his prince. He had just risen from table when the banker came the object of all his thoughts and affections. The ceive his money, he ordered them to be introduced imyoung Theotime was twelve years of age, and fond of mediately. They entered, and found the coxcomb exstudy; consequently, the pains which his father took tended on a sofa covered with an elegant robe-de-chamto form his heart and adorn his mind were not ill-be-bre, his pipe in his mouth, and he raving and swearing PRIDE AND IGNORANCE. (From the French.) at his valet, but without turning his head or making the least movement. Cratillo, Panphile, and Theotime advanced, and placed themselves in front of him, bowing profoundly; he noticed them with a gruff good day,' but did not move. In the room, which was very small, were six straw chairs; three of them were covered with the coats, boots, and arms of the Sicilian prince; the other three, which were close to the sofa, were occupied by a great dog, a comedian, and a little monkey, three of his highness's favourites; You have brought my money,' said he to Cratillo, without looking at him: Yes, your highness.' Whilst Cratillo was counting the money into the Sicilian's lap, Panphile and Theotime presented him a book, to put his signature at the bottom of a receipt, which was ready written. The coxcomb appeared embarrassed, pretended not to see them, and did not sign the receipt. Just then a lackey entered in great haste and announced a bookseller; Shew the rascal in,' said his master. The bookseller made his appearance, and presented him with a new work in four volumes. What a horrible binding!' cried the prince; he then opened the book and read, The Works of Demosthenes translated into Italian.' What nonsense have we here? I want no French authors: I like none but ancient writ ers! what say you my dear Pascal?' (the name of the comedian). Your highness is quite right. Surely your highness must be mistaken, or else yon are joking,' said the bookseller. What! I mistaken,-I joking, with a wretch like you: holla, there, drive this fellow out of the house immediately.' The bookseller attempted a reply, but his voice was drowned by the cries of the prince and the clamour of his valets, who drove the poor man away with the greatest violence. Cratillo, Panphile, and Theotime stifled their Jaughter, and stood waiting for the signature. At length the prince seemed disposed to write his name, and, for that purpose, he endeavoured to place himself on the sofa in a convenient posture; this, however, he was not able to do; he therefore rose, walked to the table, pretended to write, stopped, called his secretary, but he did not appear. The prince flew into a violent passion and was getting outrageous, when a footman came running with a note of great importance, to which an immediate answer was required.-' Zounds! where is my secretary? My dear Pascal, write an answer in my name.' The comedian bowed, pleaded great haste, begged to be excused, and left the apartment. Neither of them knew how to write! Cratillo, Panphile, and Theotime, seeing it was impossible to get the signature, retired without waiting to get the surly Good day' of the enraged nobleman. As soon as they were in the street they all three exclaimed, • Demosthenes a Frenchman and a modern!" 'Not know how to write! Not able to sign his name!' Well, my son,' said Panphile, I think that you have been able, without the aid of the little window, to read in the heart of this great personage, “Pride and Ignorance." You perceive that he is every way fit to pass his life with dogs, buffoons, and monkeys.'-Lit. Chron. GREENWICH HOSPITAL. (From the Literary Gazette.) "Good bye, Dick!" said an elderly lady-one foot on the step of her carriage, her left hand hold of the body, and turning half round, her right extended to a bold, handsome-looking gentleman in a radical hat. I am no physiognomist; but I love to trace the goodness of the heart when 'tis pictured in the countenance. I know a man may "smile, and smile, and be a villain ;" but I'd rather have a feeling of benevolence and harmony for all human nature, than one grain of splenetic animosity. However here there could be no deception; 'twas plain matter-of-fact-an index, and no errata. There was something, too, so very expressive in the lady's countenance-it was a look that cannot be described; like the sun bursting through a shower-mingling pleasure and grief. The remains of beauty were visible in her face, or rather it was beauty still, thongh differing from her youthful day of frolic mirth, resembling a calm evening after a lovely noon. "Good bye, Dick!" said she; "I shall take an airing this way again before long. Good bye!" The hands were disjoined, she entered the carriage, and the parties disappeared. "Who is that gentleman ?" said I to one of the old dolphin-strikers that stood century at the door. "That gemman, Sir," replied the veteran, "is Sir R-K-, our Commander-in-Chief, and a worthier fellow never stepp'd 'twixt stem and stern. This is his cabin -his house I mean. He is a sailor, Sir, and that's saying every thing. But I'm on duty, and mustn't stand speechifying; yet if you wants to know any thing about him, I often sees you here-Ax for Tim Bobstay, and I'll-yes, I'll give you a spell."-" Thank ye, Tim, thank ye, my worthy soul, I'll take you at your word." So he shoulder'd his thing-hum-he (all-but I think they call it,) and stood as erect as a fathom of smoke. A group of old blades were assembled on the terrace, cutting their jokes and gabbling like wild-geese on a I stole among them, sat down, and pulling out a book, appeared to be reading with profound attention. "Then you know nothing about it," roared an old rough knot in a laced coat and cocked-up hat. common. He had left his left arm in the Mediterranean when he ponies. Well, d'ye see, one of these fellows drew his sword and made a cut at the cock-son of the lanch;it fell on his head; but Lord bless you, he might just as well have tried to cnt into this stone! Flint and steel always strike fire, and he was a precious hot-headed joker; so what does he do but claps the soldier, Rustynante, accoutrements and all into the boat, and takes him alongside with the casks. The bands were turned up, clear boats-'twas just dusk-the tackles were overhaul'd down, and the falls manned. • Mind how you clap on the slings that the butts don't slip out,' said the First Lieutenant. Aye, aye, Sir.'-' Hook on, and not so much noise alongside. You've been fonl of the hoggy-dent again.' But he was mistaken, for it was ass-a-fetter'd-ba. Silence, I say again! Haul taut!-hoist away!' Away danced the men, the fifers playing Drops of Brandy. Well behaved, men-this butt's not full-it comes up very light!' roar'd the Lieutenant, advancing to the gangway- What the dence have we got here, St. David and his goat? High enough!-high enough!—and indeed it was a high rig, for what should it be but the Royal Horse-guard, relent a fist to thrash the French out of Acre, under Sir gularly mounted on his donkey, swinging aloft by the Sidney Smith. But that was nothing; he never could main-yard tackle 'twixt heaven and ocean, in an awful be persuaded that it was placed upon the right shoulstate of suspense. Hwngwggh-Hwgwgwggh-(there's der, and this did away with the argument. no vowel in the bray of an ass)-roar'd Jack, while the One of his legs too had danced itself off while leading up the mid- trooper joined chorus most melodiously till he was safedle at Lord Cochrane's attack upon the French fleet iny landed on the deck. The Cocksou laid his comBasque Roads; moreover his starboard eye had sunk plaint; and the Officer, thinking the fellow had been into his head, as he used to say, to search for his brains, sufficiently punished, set him ashore again, advising him but it threw no light upon the subject." Then you for the future to have nothing to do with sharps, for it know nothing about it; Sir Sidney had both a head was a comical thing to fall into the hands of and a heart, and when alongside of the enemy, would hammer away like a coppersmith. Bless his honest face and his curly wig!-he was none of your fantizzymagoria sort of fellows; and now you'se put me up, I'll e'en sit down and give you a curious antidote about him. D'ye see he had bis flag flying in the Foudroyant, at the time the Portygeese nutmeg-grated to the Brazils --homo-grated I mean-and took French-leave of their country. We brought up in Port Praya at St. Jago's, one of the Cape Verds, and after the usual salutes and bon bons the Admiral went ashore to dine with the Governor. Well, he was ushered into the saloon, and introduced to a stranger dress'd in deep black, who had been landed some days before from a Yankee schooner, to collect plants for bottom-me I think they calls it. After introduction, Sir Sidney whispered his Head-tocome, and the officer immediately withdrew. So, d'ye see, they sat down to dinner. Well, just as the disheart was set upon the table, in comes the Officer again, bringing with him the Captain of Marines. The Admiral rose from his seat, turned round, and pointing to the gemman in black, said, 'Captain H- -, you'll consider this person under your charge.' Then changing his position, he slued round :- General,' said he, see lay fortune dig here; I was your prisoner once, now you are mine." It was an Officer of the French army, who had guarded Sir Sidney when in prison in France, and was now acting as a spy. Well, d'ye see, the Admiral brought him aboard, and they mess'd together like good friends till we arrived at Rio Jameiro, when he was delivered up to the Portygeese government, and then it makes my ould heart thump against my ricketty timbers to think of it. He was a fine fellow; and though our brave Admiral tried every means to save him, yet he was condemn'd to labour in the mines for life. I'd rather be flogg'd at any time than have my grog stopt; and I think death must have been preferable to that constant sickness of heart arising from hope deferred, as our poet the loblolly-boy used to say. The whole ship's company pitied him; he was our enemy, to be sure, but then he was in our power. Howsomever I arn't much skill'd in the knowledge of that ere idol that so many people worships, called Polly-ticks. My old girl Bet can wash a shirt or sow on a button with any she-goddess in the world, and so can I for matter o' that; and I'll make a sea-pie or cut out a pair of trowsers with the Queen She-bear any day in the week-and Solomon says she was no foul either. Once more, and then I'll belay. The boats were all ashore at Port Praya watering. Some of you have seen the militia of the island-them as parades the beach with a bag-a-knit stuck on a mopstick, and a cutlash without a scabbard hung by a strip of green hide; and there's a whole troop of Light Dragoons mounted on Jerusalem AN OLD SAILOR." • Aquædente; a powerful liquor. THE PUPIL OF MERLIN. (Imitated from the German of Goethe.) Great Merlin of old had a magical trick For putting in motion a talisman stick, That would do at his pleasure whatever he wanted; He had only to speak and the stick was enchanted; Off it set in a twinkling and came in a crack, He ordered it out and he whistled it back. A youthful disciple of Merlin's own school, A would-be magician, half knave and half fool, Once peeping through cranny, the secret found out, Heard the conjuro te,' saw the stick fly about; "Twas enough, having seen, he must try the experiment: So he scamper'd off home in the height of his merriment, With a substitute broomstick to ape the magician, Repeated the charm and enjoin'd his commission. 'Stick! conjuro te! I command thee to bring A bucket of water just fresh from the spring, In order to wash the place tidy and clean, And render my cottage the pride of the green!' So soon as he uttered this eloquent spell, It vanished instanter, he mimick'd so well; Then as quickly return'd to his great satisfaction, Conducting the bucket with secret attraction. Then again sallied out and return'd with a second; A third, fourth, fifth, sixth,-full a dozen he reckon'd. Again and again comes the troublesome evil; He heartily wishes the stick at the devil, And endeavours to stop this strange baton constabulary By repeating by heart all his magic vocabulary. In vain; the said stick is as deaf as a post, And frightens him ready to give up the ghost. What, holloa! neighbors mine! oh the shocking disaster!' The louder he bellows the stick goes the faster. In this wretched dilemma he loses his wits, He rages, he swears, and he whimpers, by fits; Beats his breast, pulls his hair, and defaces his face. Still the stick and the bucket continued the chace; The comical scene would have killed you with laughter, The stick led the way and the bucket sped after. Provoked at the sight; he endeavor'd to catch it, Gets a rap on the knuckles-he seizes a hatchetIn a violent passion he chops it asunder; This stratagem proves a most exquisite blunder; It produces a double stick, i. e. another, That follows the steps of its hard-hearted brother. Both together they fly, both their buckets they bring, And around him a deluge of water they fling. In brief, had not fortune the urchin befriended, There is no telling where might the mischief have ended; When, as good luck would have it, old Merlin appear'd, In full magicals robed, with his grim looking beard, Who deliver'd him straight, stopp'd the sticks in a trice, And dismiss'd the young chap with a word of advice: Only see what a pickle your rashness has cost, And thank your good genius that all was not lost: Remember, in future, my parting command, That you never attempt what you don't understand; And whatever you do, that success may attend, Ere you think of beginning consider the end. ANDREW LAURIE'S RETURN. (Continued from our last.) I had seen much of the world, and often smiled at the singular superstitions and wild beliefs which influence mankind in distant parts of the earth. It was now my turn to be under such influence. I had retarned to the latitude of superstitions, which had a seat in my own bosom, and I could not help feeling something of a mingled curiosity and alarm, as I gazed on the beldame before me. I had often molested her when a boy, and mimicked the lowering of her brows, and the hanging and trembling of her under lip. I had chaced her gray cat into the cauldrons of Creahope linn, and placed snares for her black cat, which half of the dames of the district believed was inhabited by an evil spirit. I had stolen her crutch of broomstick, and watched it while it flamed in the fire for the flight of the spirit which she was supposed to have conjared into it. I had dug pitfalls in her path,turned the course of a flooded rivulet into her door,-and, to sum up all my delinquencies in one deed, I had, according to ancient prescription, boiled pins and nails among milk at midnight to cure a cow which was suffering from her witchcraft. In spite of all these deeds, I was something of a favourite with old Grizel. I had done her many little acts of kindness, carried her many little presents during the stormy seasons, and protected her and her whole establishment from the boys of the village, who like myself sought amusement in such mischief. Even when she sometimes detected me in working her annoyance, she confined her resentment to the lowering of her brows, and the shaking of her staff, and an exclamation of "Ah, Andrew Laurie, thou art an evil one." But she never forgave me for the experiment I made in expelling witchcraft from the cow; it was observed that her eyes darkened and her brows contracted whenever this feat was mentioned; and it was rumoured about the parish that on the night when I sought to dissolve the spell, Grizel was seen with dishevelled hair, eyes on fire, and feet which seemed touched with unnatural swiftness, running round the house where the charm was working with many a sob and shriek. It is true that I saw no such sight, and beard neither sob uor shriek; but the people around me were certain I had both heard and seen something, and the fame of my exploit fw far and wide, with many a strange addition, and many a marvellous comment. All this, Grizel, with the unsonsie foot, as she was called in the parish, heard from many lips, and every one expected to see me withered down by a sudden sp‹ll,--or pining slowly away, or carried bodily off by evil spirits.or drowned in the deepest pool in the river,-and though none of all these things came to pass, people shook their heads, and muttered old saws and broken adages, all of which went to show that sudden death, or slow, would overtake me sometime. I had not scen her for some months, though I heard she was moving about more dreaded than ever, and I had begun to think, as I stood on a rising ground, and looked back on my native place as I left it for a far land, that I should never see her more. At that moment she stood before me, looked me füll in the face, and, laughing till the river bank rang again, cried, "bonnie Andrew Laurie, he'll never see kith, nor kin, nor Dalgarnock kirk mair." All this, and much more than this, was present to my mind, now as I stood and hearkened her curious complaint. I thought she was alone, but on stealing nearer a step or two, under screen of a large bush of holly, I observed she had a companion,-a slim girl some sixteen years old or so, who was squatted among the grass at her feet. She had restless and piercing black eyes, and short curly hair. A sort of bodice enclosed her waist, a kirtle reached under her knee, leaving her small active limbs entirely bare, and her whole person was tanned with the influence of the sun, as brown as a berry. A string of brass and silver trinkets was round her neck,-a pair of massy gold rings depended from her ears, and something of a tawdry and stained embroidery ran round the neck of her bodice. Of all these articles of gipsey finery, as well as of a very handsome form, the young girl seemed sufficiently conscious; and as she looked from time to time on her image, reflected so truly in the quiet water, it was not without a secret swelling of pride at her conquests over Geordie Gordon, and Willie Marshall, and Wattie Kennedy, and all other young heroes of the clouted cauldron and the mended spoon, from Cosincon to Cærlaverock. A small basket, filled with the rude minstrelsy of the district, stood beside her; and while she arranged ber ballads, and concealed some pieces of coin, which her knowledge in palmistry had conjured from the reluctant hands of the thrifty maidens of Closeburn, her eyes were continually peering in the face of the old dame, and wandering hastily over her residence, like one taking note of an enemy's country. On the other hand, ancient Grizel brought down her lowering brows, and lowered ber nether lip into close scrutiny of the gipsey's person, and her whole face seemed to say,-"Nay, to spy out the land are ye come." Such suspicious glances appeared to strike awe into the bosom of the bold young gipsey, she selected a ballad from her basket, and holding it up to her of the unsonsie foot, said, Shall I sing ye a song about the auld house of Laurie?-they're a dead and gane now; but it is weel my part to sing a song i' their praise:many a time have they sheltered the houseless head of a Kennedy frae the winter blast: five women and fifteen bairns-my ain mother, who was drowned in Dryfe, was ane of them-have sat at their hearth when Drumlanrig gardens were a desart, and the bonnie corn lands of Closeburn were a' in the Lord's ain hand.”— And with a voice of great natural sweetness, she sang, much to my surprise, a song about myself, which she said was as true as that crooked horns made bandsome spoons, and that the cunning hand clouted the kettle. BONNIE ANDREW LAURIE. Adown the barley's golden beard I tried to scorn him, but my looks "See you twin stars bright as thy e'en, "I've seen the stars fall, and the stream As April sun-shine's show'rie, We parted on a summer night, We parted high and proudly, "Ah! Andrew Laurie," exclaimed she of the unsonsie foot, "I kenned the bairn weel,-he burnt my crutch,-sodded up my lamshead,-built up my window, and turned the burn at Belton into my door. I kenned the bairn weel,-a giddy and a carried callant, but wi' a free hand and a frank heart,- he did me mair gude with the right hand than harm wi' the left.-I have a gude right as well as thee, lass, to sing a song anent the auld house of Laurie,-the name's gone frac | the land,-dead as the timmer at yule,-as sapless as my crutch, and there's nane can lift it again but this giddy callant,-and the wee bird says he'll soon be here,-I wonder gin he'll ken auld Grizel with the unsousie foot,-her who gaurs the kye gang yell,-can milk the cows in Cumberland,-can turn the moor-fowl on Drumlanrig brae into swans and turkeys, and the silver salmon of Nith into puddocks and toads.-I wonder gif he'll ken auld Grizel with the unsonsie foot. But hearken, hinnie, till I chaunt ye a crumb of an old world sang-it may do ye good, and the thoughts on't may cheer ye on your way frae a witch's dwelling-It has a charm in't, lassie, it has a charm in't, no such a charm as can make Geordie Gordon honest, or keep Willie Marshall frae herrying folk o' their hens, nor keep Tam Macgrab frae men's pouches at Midsummer, -but sic a charm as shall send bonnie blythe Sasie Kennedy away frae my door-stone wi' nae wish to come back in the lone hour of night, to steal my staff, and my hollow stane, and my hemlock pulled at midnight, and my teat of black wool, won from the black mouth of the fox, and my milking peg, and all my curious gear, with which I work pranks, and win myself" name in this perverse world." This catalogue of witching loons and trinkets had a visible influence upon the demeanour of the young gipsey; and it was evident that the wish of the old woman was to inspire her unwelcome visitor with a salutary terror, which might ensure respect to her property during a midnight excursion, when half the houses in Nithsdale pay tribute to her tribe. The old woman commenced on her promised lyric-the spell might lie in the way in which she contrived with a voice, croaking and uncouth, to render audible this rude production:-in the matter it could hardly lie, and even the credulous author of Satan's Invisible World Discovered, would have been unable to question the perfect innocence of the song, unless he had heard it from the lips of the author of all evil himself. ALAS FOR THE LAURIE! Alas for the Laurie, Alas for the brave, The ruler on land, And the lord of the wave! Oh! bright waved his banner, And bright shone his sword, Wherever he roamed, He was ruler and lord. Ob! brave and undaunted And smooth'd at his call, May dance on the tide; The fair sun would not shine, And came shuddering to shore, And I thought a voice said, "Ye shall see him no more." O'er the waves he career'd, All their breadth and their length; All exulting he sail'd, And rejoiced in his strength; But a flash fell from heaven, And a shriek went ashore, With the bubbling of wavesAnd his victories are o'er. "Hale be your heart, beldame, and lang may yere voice keep in tune to charm the ravens and the hooded craws," said Susie Kennedie,-"losh me, it sounds like Willie Marshall's hand-hammer clinking on the rivets of a punch spoon. Sing ay that way, and neither jaud nor gipsey will daur to steer ye; od, I never heard sie an unmelodious croon since Jem Thingumthrum, the Cameronian weaver, sang the merry song of As I came through the Sanquhar town,' to the melancholy draunt of Coleshill." "A truce to thy foolery, girl," said she of the unsonsie foot; " and think nae that I am the only one that hearkens thee. |