Page images
PDF
EPUB

F

Here, as in most cases, how much depends upon the light in which we view an action. To work a year or two to save money enough to buy a mule, appears but a poor ambition for a man; but to work, in order to gain an independence, and to secure the true-hearted companion for life, to whom affection has already united us, this is an ambition, before which many of the so-called lofty objects of an Alexander or a Napoleon might well sink into insignificance. I wish I could draw a picture of these two peasants of Sorento, as they now stand before me,-Antonio, in his blue linen jacket and trowsers his bare feet-his brownish woollen cap, hanging on one side-his good forehead, and honest open expression.

His companion, Theresa, is not handsome, it must be confessed, and her black hair is not done so tastefully as is the custom with the girls at Sorento, but her pale oval face and quick black eye are expressive of truth and kindness. She is somewhat more civilized than Antonio, inasmuch as she has shoes, but they are of wood, and fastened on her feet by a broad piece of leather. The pair are alike for honesty. The thought of increasing their slowly-advancing fortune by any little imposition upon strangers, does not seem to have occurred to either of them. We left them and the beautiful Sorento with regret, and returned to Naples.

A BRIEF CHAPTER ON OLD MAIDS.

THE title of Old Maid, and the ridicule once attached to the condition of elderly female singlehood, are rapidly passing away together. The world is becoming enlightened upon many subjects. It no longer tolerates old evils; and amongst others the idea that women, unless married, are useless and neglected, querulous fault-finding busybodies; this idea is being swept away with other dust and rubbish of the past, amid the general clearing for the "good time coming."

hunting be at its last gasp, and matrimony again be a sacred thing.

Old maids' pets have furnished occasion for many a graceless sneer, for much bitterness and affected disgust. And wherefore? Surely those to whom circumstances, or their own sense of right, have denied the station of wife and mother, may expend a portion of the stifled love throbbing within their womanly hearts; and which, had they married, would have formed an inexhaustible provision of tenderness for some sweet infant, or may be, a whole rosy little troop of boys and girls,-surely they may at their pleasure bestow this objectless affection upon a faithful dog, intelligent parrot, or gentle, domestic cat. Their friends are not bound to like these pets, nor even to approve of them, but that is no reason why our single sisters should be ridiculed for loving objects, which, though others may see nothing to admire in them, touch their lone hearts, and are perhaps the means of preserving in its living and purifying flow the well of sweet waters therein. And which in reality is the worthier of disapprobation; the woman who in the absence of all legitimate outlets of her overflowing affection, fondles and carefully tends a favourite dog; or, the man who neglects the wife of his youth, and seeks the convivial revel, wasting his substance upon the smoke of cigars, the fumes of wine, and the selfish indulgences of masculine dissipation?

No! "old maids" are neither to be pitied or despised. Of this we are in a position to speak, for we have the pleasure of knowing several excellent specimens of the class; and we can assure our readers that many an idle, pleasure-loving matron might benefit by their example. lent, their scant home-ties leave them at liberty to Active, cultivated, energetic, judicious, widely-benevodiffuse their words of wisdom, and their deeds of kindness and of mercy, around a larger circle than can be undertaken by the strictly domestic woman: and in the constant exercise of their faculties, and their untiring devotion to the interests of their fellow-beings, they that this changeful state of being can afford; and we experience a solid happiness which surely is equal to any emphatically aver, that we have often observed the noblest and widest benevolence of conduct in the abused state of "Old Maidism."

In society where good taste prevails, we now seldom hear the term of "old maid," the milder appellation of "single woman" being substituted. This is as it should be; for wherefore brand, by what has, from association, become a ridiculous nickname, a respectable class of females who are in no wise inferior to their married sisters GIBSON AND THORBURN THE ARTISTS. -nay, who are in many cases a thousand times better; for is not your old maid often one who has had to deny the THE number of praiseworthy men who have worked dearest impulses of her nature, and to stifle all her natural their way up from obscurity and poverty to fame and yearnings for a love and a home of her own, for the sake affluence, is as great in the department of Art as in any of others, devoting her life a living sacrifice to those who other. Numbers of illustrious instances of this fact will may be perhaps all the while unpercipient of, ungrateful for, her burdens and her cares for them? Oh! if these at once flash upon the reader's mind. Claude Lorraine, women be happy, persist in being happy, notwithstanding the pastry-cook; Salvator Rosa, nursed in hardships their renunciation of self and the lingering prejudice against their condition, why rob them of the smallest portion of their tranquillity by a silly jest or sneer?

and sorrows; Opie, the carpenter's boy; Inigo Jones, the cloth-worker; Caravaggio, the mortar carrier; Cavedone, turned out of doors to beggary by his own father; Wright and Gilpin, the ship-painters; Barry, the ship

spendthrift father; Giotto, the peasant; Zingaro, the gipsy; Canova, the stone-cutter; Chantrey, the carver and gilder; all these and many more that might be named earned for themselves reputation and wealth by their diligent study of art, under circumstances the most untoward and adverse.

It is a pitiable fact that young women, especially in the middle classes, often marry without love, without even esteem, for him with whom they wed, solely for the pur-boy; Sir Thomas Lawrence, the prodigy child of a pose of escaping the stigma attached by the ignorant and unthinking to the state of old maidenhood. Are we far wrong in referring to this dread of remaining unmarried, the numerous devices of vanity, the flirting, and dressing, and visiting which retard the growth of many a rational brain, and cause the fathers of gay, expensive daughters, to sigh over their rapidly-diminishing means, and half regret the day when they rashly took upon themselves the Let not any young man suppose that these individuals cares, and risk, and burden of a family? We know we were elevated in the world by "luck," "good fortune," When old maids shall be invariably treated with or any thing else but by dint of sheer industry, applithe respect and consideration which are their due-when cation, and hard work. Neither knowledge nor any of the last joke at their expense shall have vanished into the the advantages which flow from it are to be attained Lethe of forgotten absurdities - then will husband-without diligent application and labour. The love of

are not.

art, and the genius by means of which greatness is achieved, were, doubtless, inherent in the natures of the men we have named; but it was by persevering diligence only that they were enabled to mature that genius, and to secure its ultimate results of fame and competence. Nor was it wealth only that these men sought by the diligent cultivation of their powers. The attainment of wealth is not the stimulus to labours of the highest kind. The pleasures and advantages of knowledge are far above any that mere wealth can buy. It is its own exceeding great reward. No love of money could sustain the efforts of the artist in his early career of self-denial and hard work. There is the love of the pursuit, the love of art, the love of knowledge, to sustain him. The wealth which follows is but an accident; many artists labour on in the teeth of poverty; they often prefer following the bent of their own genius to chaffering with the crowd for terms. Barry, Haydon, Blake, and others, preferred high art to wealth; and Spagnoletto, after he had acquired ample means and luxury, actually preferred to withdraw himself from their influence, and voluntarily returned to poverty and labour; thus verifying in his own life the beautiful fiction of Xenophon.

then he has chiefly resided at Rome, studying the old masters, and there elaborating those noble works which have gained him so distinguished a celebrity. The duke of Devonshire, a munificent patron of English talent, there commissioned the admirable piece of Mars and Venus; and the King of Bavaria enriched his Glyptothec at Munich by others of his works. Commissions flowed in upon him, and since then his hands have been full of highly remunerative work. His poor parents were not forgotten in the midst of his good fortune, and their old age was made happy by his generous help.

No one who has visited the exhibitions of the Royal Academy, has failed to notice and to admire the exquisite portraits of Thorburn which adorn the walls of the miniature room. There is a power and grace about these pictures which elevate them far above the level of mere portraits. They indicate a consummate knowledge of chiaroscuro, and a careful study of the old masters. They remind us of the portraits of Vandyke and Holbein; for force and expression, for grace and dignity, there is nothing in modern portraiture to equal them. We have now in our mind's eye a portrait of our Queen and her children, exhibited, we think, in 1848, which exemplified the genius of Thorburn in a remarkable manner, and showed his power of idealizing his portraitsan indication of the highest order of art. This portrait might have been exhibited as a Madonna, so exquisitely simple and so heavenly was the expression; and yet the portrait in all its essential features was remarkably exact. We also remember many other noble portraits by the same artist-Lady Francis Egerton, the Duchess of Buccleugh, and the Duchess of Montrose, exhibited in 1846; the Princess Charlotte of Belgium, Lord William Beresford, and the Duke of Brabant, exhibited in 1847; and others equally fine in recent years. These are more than portraits, they are noble works of art, and will live as such.

Among the living artists, who have honourably fought their way upwards from poverty to fame, and now rank among the highest in their several departments, we may this week mention the two individuals whose names we have placed at the head of this article. The beautiful groups of statuary from the hand of John Gibson which have been exhibited of late years in the exhibitions of the Royal Academy, have given to this artist a worldwide reputation. There is in his works noble simplicity and high sentiment; combining much of the beauty of Thorwaldsen with the stern grandeur of Flaxman. He is full of a genuine enthusiasm and love of his art, which place him high above those sordid temptations which urge meaner natures to make time the measure of profit. It would take much space to name in detail the numerous Robert Thorburn, like John Gibson, was born of poor fine statues, groups, and bas-reliefs, which have come parents. His father was a shoemaker in a very humble from his chisel; and which enrich the sculpture galleries way of business, in the town of Dumfries, in Scotland. of English noblemen and foreign potentates. The Besides Robert, there were two other sons; one of duke of Devonshire and the king of Bavaria are in whom is still noted in his native town as a skilful carver possession of some of his finest works; and the galleries in wood. One day a lady called at the shoemaker's, of many of the Italian nobility, as well as of the more and found Robert, then a mere boy, engaged in drawing opulent of our English merchants, are also indebted to upon a stool which served him for a table. She examined his genius for some of their chief attractions. his work, and finding that he had abilities in this direction, Gibson was born at Gyffn, near Conway, in North Mrs. Pitt (for so the lady was named) interested herWales, in June, 1790. His father held the situation of self in obtaining for him some occupation in drawing, gardener on the estate of Mr. Griffiths of that place; so and also enlisting in his behalf the services of others who that the origin of Gibson is a very humble one. The could assist him in prosecuting the study of art. Of boy early showed indications of his talent, by carvings these the most conspicuous was Mr. Craik, master of the which he made by means of his knife; and, by Mr. writing department in the Dumfries Burgh Academy. Griffiths' advice, he was sent to Liverpool, where he was Himself no artist, except in caligraphy, he was yet of bound apprentice to a cabinet-maker and wood-carver. the greatest service to Thorburn in providing him with He soon manifested a growing taste for sculpture, excel- subjects to copy, and in procuring purchasers for his ling greatly in carving, and in the modelling of small drawings, whereby he was enabled to obtain materials wooden figures. When in his eighteenth year he for the prosecution of his studies. He was very diligent, executed a model of Time, in wax, which attracted painstaking, staid, and silent, mixing little with his comconsiderable notice. This model is now in the possession panions, and forming but few intimacies. About the of the Messrs. Franceys, sculptors, of Liverpool, who, year 1830, some gentlemen of the town provided || on witnessing the work, immediately appreciated the Thorburn with the means of proceeding to Edinburgh, ability of the apprentice, whose indentures they purchased where he was admitted as student of the Royal Scottish for £70, and at once engaged him as a sculptor in their Academy. There he had the advantage of studying own works. Whilst in the employment of these gentle-under competent masters, and the progress which he men he executed numerous works, some of the finest of made was rapid and decided. After residing in Edinburgh which, among others a Cupid, and a piece representing for some years, he removed to London, where, we underthe Seasons, were executed for Mr. Gladstone, and are stand, he had the advantage of being introduced to notice still in his possession. He served out his apprenticeship under the powerful patronage of the Duke of Buccleugh. of six years with the Messrs. Franceys, to their complete We need scarcely say, however, that whatever use satisfaction, and then went to London, recommended by patronage may have been to Thorburn in giving him an Mr. Roscoe, no mean judge of talent, to the notice of introduction to the best circles, patronage of no kind Michael Angelo Taylor, then M.P. for the city of Dur- could have made him the great artist that he unquesham, who at once furnished him with employment. In tionably is, without native genius and the most diligent 1820, he proceeded to Italy, furnished with letters of application. The number of portraits, of exquisite finish, introduction to Canova, by Lord Castlereagh. Since which he yearly exhibits, are sufficient proofs of his

industry and his success. He was admitted an associate of the Royal Academy a year or two ago, and the way to fame and fortune is now clear before him.

TEACHING THE YOUNG.

MANY parents who undertake or superintend the education of their own children, are tormented by an over anxiety, which but evinces their sad want of faith, whilst it is a hindrance to that real mental progress they so ardently desire to see going on in their offspring. This over anxiety is a feeling completely at variance with that quiet solicitude, whose distinguishing feature is calm hopefulness, accompanied by a cautious, persevering spirit, far removed from that near-sighted, fussy feeling of accountableness displayed by egotists, who cannot trust anything to God's providence, but will take the whole burden and responsibility upon themselves.

The feelings of children are so inconceivably delicate and just, that we should respect their natural development, gradually, and almost as imperceptibly, as the unfolding of a rose-bud.

Yet, how many adults commence "educating" with a vague notion that children are ill-organized beings, whom it is their business in some sort to remodel; and whilst denouncing the Chinese custom of flattening the heads of their infants between boards, in order to produce that oval shape so much admired in the celestial empire, these people complacently set to work to perform a similar operation upon the minds of their own hopeless charges.

Primary education should be considered rather as a developing than an engrafting system.

Behold with what state and circumstance, and armed to the teeth, well-meaning people march to meet the newly born! with what self-satisfaction they stoop to gaze upon it, whilst a confused idea is floating through their brain of some great beam to be removed, which, instead of in their own, they seek in the child's honest eyes.

We should remember that the little one has, at starting, one great advantage over us-it stands upon the threshold of life without one prejudice, it owes the world no grudge, nor any human being therein.

How loving, and how trusting is a child; unless perverted, trusting and loving it remains.

Let us not lightly pass over this elemental love-this first fact so beautiful and blessed; here are we brought at once into contact with the fundamental and most ennobling affection that stirs and expands the soul; here we encounter a pure breeze, fresh from Paradise. This is the sacred fire, whose flame should be jealously guarded; this is the pure leaven; this is the lever with which we may lift the world even unto heaven, its fulcrum is in the strong will and faith of man.

How vitally active and inquisitive is a child, running hither and thither on the threshold of its new life-see how it enjoys the precious gift.

Listen to its original prattle; and since we cannot reply to all its queries, we will ponder them in our hearts, world-worn, weary men; for the time being, the

child shall be our tutor.

We must go cautiously, lest we inadvertently maim or wound his spirit, and there be war between us, and thenceforth every link in the social chain should grate.

Again, observe yon sunny child, with the beaming smile, and clear open eye, fearlessly expressing his young ideas; wherefore is he so joyous whilst his little companion is pale and shy, and silent? or uncloseth his dewy lips, but to utter falsehoods! Mark, the candour and the moral courage of this little one have been destroyed, and he is left timid, trembling, and afraid. Of what?

Rebuke or stripes perchance, no matter of what, since afraid he is.

His opening faculties have been shaded from the sun, and fall drooping back to earth.

Frightful perversion! when a child's aspirations are neutralized by fear,-fear, the root of deceit, whose tendrils run downward, instead of upward.

Away with every system of intimidation which but gives the spirit back to chaos.

It has been well said, "never depart from the rules of courtesy and good breeding with children; there is no more necessity for doing so with them, than with grown men and women.'

وو

tion are the golden links of humanity.

Hearts are to be won, not forced. Reason and affec

Lastly, let over anxious guardians beware, lest they place themselves between the child and him, who 'said, Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not."

[ocr errors]

Let them go, let them love.

Let the light, the breeze, and the dews from heaven freely visit the plants of earth; allow them to open their own blossoms to the sun; would you destroy, because it is not the bud you expected, the flower for which you looked, or the fruit for which you toiled?

Let all share those genial influences that convert death into life, and instead of wild wastes and barren shrubs, the earth will bear more palm-trees and golden shrubs, the men and women shall walk erect in the presence of their God, feeling they are more "like unto His image."

ENGLISH INDEPENDENCE.

FOREIGNERS find it hard to understand the importance which every well-bred Englishman, as in duty bound, attaches to himself. They cannot conceive why, whenever they have to speak in the first person, they must stand on tiptoe, lifting themselves up, until, like Ajax, they tower with head and shoulders above their comrades. Hence, in their letters, as in those of the uneducated among our own countrymen, we now and then stumble on a little I, with a startling shock, as on coming to a short step in a flight of stairs. A Frenchman is too courteous and polished to thrust himself thus at full length into his neighbour's face. Indeed, this big onelettered pronoun is quite peculiar to John Bull, as much so as Magna Charta, with which perchance it may not be altogether unconnected; at least, it certainly is an apt symbol of our national character, both in some of its nobler and of its harsher features. In it you may discern the Englishman's prudence, his unbending firmness, his straightforwardness, his individuality of character; you may also see his self-importance, his arrogance, his opinionativeness, his propensity to separate and seclude himself from his neighbours, and to look down on all mankind with contempt. As he has relieved his representative I of its consonants and adjuncts, in like manner has he also stripped his soul of its consonants, of those social and affable qualities which smoothe the intercourse between man and man; and by the help of which people unite readily one with another. Look at four Englishmen in a stage-coach, the odds are, they will be sitting as stiff and unsociable as four I's. Novalis must have bad some vision of this sort in his mind when he said, Every Englishman is an island."

[ocr errors]

GREAT men are the first that find their own griefs, though they are sometimes the last that find their own faults; and a remark which would give little minds no uneasiness, is to them a source of the greatest inquietude.

THE CHURCH-YARD STILE.

I LEFT thee young and gay, Mary,
When last the thorn was white;

I went upon my way, Mary,

And all the world seemed bright;

For though my love had ne'er been told,

Yet, yet I saw thy form

Beside me, in the midnight watch,

Above me, in the storm.
And many a blissful dream I had,
That brought thy gentle smile
Just as it came when last we leaned
Upon the Church-yard Stile.

I'm here to seek thee now, Mary,

As all I love the best;

To fondly tell thee how, Mary,
I've hid thee in my breast;

I came to yield thee up my heart,
With hope, and truth, and joy,

And crown with Manhood's honest faith
The feelings of the boy.

I breathed thy name, but every pulse
Grew still and cold the while,

For I was told thou wert asleep,

Just by the Church-yard Stile.

My messmates deemed me brave, Mary,
Upon the sinking ship;

But flowers o'er thy grave, Mary,
Have power to blanch my lip.

I felt no throb of quailing fear,
Amid the wrecking surf,

But pale and weak I tremble here,
Upon the osiered turf.

I came to meet thy happy face,
And woo thy gleesome smile,
And only find thy resting-place

Close by the Church-yard Stile.

Oh! years may pass away, Mary,
And Sorrow lose its sting,
For Time is kind they say, Mary,
And flies with healing wing;

The world may make me old and wise,
And hope may have new birth,

And other joys and other ties

May link me to the earth;

But Memory, living to the last,

Shall treasure up thy smile,

That called me back to find thy grave, Close to the Church-yard Stile.

ELIZA COOK.

HAPPINESS. The idea has been transmitted from generation to generation, that happiness is one large and beautiful precious stone, a single gem so rare, that all search after it is vain, all effort for it hopeless. It is not so. Happiness is a Mosaic, composed of many smaller stones. Each taken apart and viewed singly, may be of little value, but when all are grouped together, and judiciously combined and set, they form a pleasing and graceful whole-a costly jewel. Trample not under foot, then, the little pleasures which a gracious providence scatters in the daily path, and which, in eager search after some great and exciting joy, we are so apt to overlook. Why should we always keep our eyes fixed on the bright, distant horizon, while there are so many lovely roses in the garden in which we are permitted to walk? The very ardour of our chase after happiness, may be the reason that she so often eludes our grasp. We pantingly strain after her when she has been graciously brought nigh unto us.

DIAMOND DUST.

TRUST men, and they will be true to you; trust them greatly, and they will shew themselves great, though they make an exception in your favour to all their rules of trade.

INTERESTED motives are the rails on which the carriages of society run smoothly and securely, without coming in collision or injuring each other.

A GREAT Soul will be strong to live, as well as strong to think.

SOME people seem to consider the severity of their censures on the errors of others as an atonement for their own.

THERE ought to be in a healthful ambition the stubborn staff of persevering longevity; it must live on, and hope for the day which comes slow or fast, whose labours discern the good.

POETRY is the key of memory.

WE are nearer to true virtue and true happiness when we demand too little from men than when we exact too much.

POLITENESS is too often but a perfidious generosity, which leaves the heart cold and the prejudices untouched.

A MAN remains of consequence-not so far as he leaves something behind him, but so far as he acts and enjoys, and rouses others to action and enjoyment.

ARITHMETIC is a science differently studied by fathers and sons-the first generally confining themselves to addition, and the second to subtraction.

YOUTH is the vernal season of life, and the blossoms it then puts forth are indications of those future fruits which are to be gathered in the succeeding periods.

THE defects of great men are the consolation of the dunces.

MONARCHS seldom hear truth until too late to derive profit from its knowledge.

To be truly great, it is necessary to be truly good and benevolent, for all other distinctions the clods of the valley will cover, and the greedy worm destroy.

No man struggles honestly and ardently, utterly in vain; for in us all, if we would but cherish it, there is a spirit that must rise at last-a crowned, if bleeding conqueror over hate and all the demons.

LET us rather seek to be the judges of ourselves than the executioners of another.

THE aristocracy are prone to ridicule the clevation of men of the middle class to high official situations, not reflecting that it is easier to transmute men of talents into gentlemen than it is to convert mere gentlemen into men of talents.

SMALL griefs are loquacious-great are dumb.

ONE should not quarrel with a dog, without a reason sufficient to vindicate one through all the courts of morality.

TRUTH! men dare not look her in the face, except by degrees; they mistake her for a Gorgon, instead of knowing her to be Minerva.

LIFE is a warfare of conflicting duties and opposing principles-a choice of evils, or a choice of goods. It is the business of a wise man to divide not between the nearest and the most distant, but between the greater and the lesser obligation.

Printed and Published for the Proprietor, by JOHN OWEN CLASKE, (of No. 9, Hemingford Terrace, East, in the Parish of St. Mary, Islington, in the County of Middlesex) at his Printing Office, No. 3, Raquet Court, Fleet Street, in the Parish of St. Bride, in the City of London. Saturday, September 22, 1849,

[graphic][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][merged small][merged small]

PROGRESS OF MANNERS.

THOSE who have listened at any time to the fervent appeals of that noble band of social reformers and elevators, the apostles of Temperance, may not improbably have been impressed with the belief that Intemperance was rolling onwards like a Deluge, and engulphing in its fatal waves all that remained of the virtue, morals, and religion of our country. The picture they draw must be confessed to be a very black one, and in too many respects, alas, it has been but too faithful. Let it be confessed, however, that there is also a brighter side to the picture, which it is well, occasionally, to bring to light; and it is this, that although drunkenness is still frightfully prevalent, it is, nevertheless, steadily on the decrease. This, we think, there are abundant facts enough to prove.

[PRICE 14d.

rational evening together without the employment of artificial stimuli. This progress has been general amongst the middle and upper classes in all parts of the country during the last century. Take the picture which Macaulay gives of the country Squire of the seventeenth century, and contrast the immense distance between him and his modern representative:

"His chief pleasures were commonly derived from field sports and from an unrefined sensuality. His language and pronunciation were such as we should now expect to hear only from the most ignorant clowns. His oaths, coarse jests, and scurrilous terms of abuse, were uttered with the broadest accents of his province. His table was loaded with coarse plenty; and guests were cordially welcomed to it. But, as the habit of drinking to excess was general in the class to which he belonged, and as his fortune did not enable him to intoxicate large assemblies daily with claret or canary, strong beer was the ordinary beverage. The quantity of beer consumed in those days was, indeed, enormous. For beer, then, was to the middle and lower classes, not only all that beer now is, but all that wine, tea, and ardent spirits now are. It was only at great houses, or on great occasions, that foreign drink was placed on the board. The ladies of the house, whose business it had commonly been to cook the repast, retired as soon as the dishes had been devoured, and left the gentlemen to their ale and tobacco. The coarse jollity of the afternoon was often prolonged till the revellers were laid under the table."

Any one who knows what was the ordinary social life of the middle classes of Great Britain fifty or sixty years ago, and compares it with the social life of the present day, will at once concede that Temperate Habits have made great and unequivocal progress among us. There are now none of the drunken orgies practised either at public dinners or private parties which were formerly so common. A party does not now remain at table till one half of them are unable to sit upright. The writer remembers when it was an ordinary practice among the farmers, in a particular district, for the master of the house to get up from the table after the cloth was removed and the drinking materials were placed on the table, and lock the door, putting the key in his pocket. No such barbarous practice would be tolerated now-a-days in any class of society. The guest does not now consider it a reflection on the hospitality of his entertainer that open house, and spending the income of their estates in he has been allowed to rise sober from his table; nor is drunkenness any longer recognised as a manly or reputable practice. We do not boast as we did of our "six-bottle men." The grosser forms of intemperance, as a feature of our social entertainments, have, indeed, become obsolete. In the best classes, intoxicating drinks Down to a comparatively recent period, the same are every day falling into greater disuse, and in some practices prevailed among the Irish country gentlemen, of the most recherché parties of the metropolis, iced of which many curious instances may be found in water is the strongest beverage placed on the table. Men Barrington's "Sketches of his own Times," and Dr. and women have found ways and means of enjoying a Madden's "Ireland thirty years ago." A writer in

At a more remote date, the social practices of the English country gentlemen were still worse. William of Malmesbury, who wrote in the days of Henry II., says, "that the English were universally addicted to drunkenness, continuing over their cups day and night, keeping

riotous feasts, where eating and drinking were carried to excess, without any elegance." How unlike is this picture to that of the modern English country gentleman, the model of manners, and the pattern of his neighbourhood!

« PreviousContinue »