THE CLUB. No. XXIV.-FRIDAY, DECEMBER 20, 1822. ARMSTRONG. THE human mind is naturally formed for almost A taste for natural scenery and for the works of art is generally cultivated with advantage. To take a pleasure in the former, is to increase very greatly the enjoyments which fine weather affords; and to acquire a relish for the latter, is to possess ourselves of a source of exhaustless amusement. These enjoyments, which are in a great degree the result of cultivation, and which may, therefore, often be acquired by those who will take the pains, serve greatly to mitigate the ills of life, and make us, wherever we may be placed, more satisfied with our circumstances. I care not Fortune! what you me deny : 66 THOMSON. The President, who has a very happy talent for creating new pleasures dependent upon himself, was expatiating to us the other night at the Green Dragon, upon the advantages of preserving old letters. I have frequently," said he, "spent an evening very agreeably in looking over those which I received many years ago, on various occasions. They awaken in my mind many delightful recollections, and enable me to enjoy a second time, much of the interest which they originally excited. They also call up many kindly associations concerning circumstances which, but for them, might have been utterly forgotten. It sometimes indeed, costs me a sigh when I come! to the letters of some of those valued persons, who now exist only in memory; but, at the same time, it gratifies me to know that there were some long tried friends, who could carry their esteem for me even to the grave. When I meet with the letters of individuals who were distinguished in the world for their genius or erudition, I think of the pleasure I once felt when the receipt of them flattered my vanity, and stimulated my exertions. When I read the letters of some of my female friends, whom I have always reckoned among the most valued of my correspon SCRAPIANA.—NO. XVIII. who flourished upwards of a century ago. dents, I am struok with the talent which they oc- The Tradesman thought there was some force in the observations when applied to an invoice, an account current, or some similar document, but as for letters in general, upon subjects not only calculated to answer a temporary purpose, connected with business, they appeared to him and therefore, not worth preservation. There are indeed some exceptions, and for those he was willing to make allowance. With respect to the letters of women, he believed they seldom merited the praises of the Chairman: most of those which he had seen were in such a condition, as to meaning and arrangement, that they were not much unlike a piece of writing he once met with, which would make sense equally well, whether the person who read it set out from the beginning, the middle, or the end. "For my part," said the Widower, "I am so much of our Chairman's opinion that I preserve almost all the letters which I receive. They not only afford occasional amusement, but serve as a sort of family record; and I have so arranged mine, that I can consult any of them without difficulty. There are, indeed, some of them which I remember with peculiar pleasure, particularly those in which I was dissuaded, by a very sensible correspondent, from once more committing matrimony when, in a thoughtless interval, I was strongly tempted to it. Much more was said upon the subject, especially by the younger members; but we refrain from giving their remarks, not only because we would not extend our paper too far, but because we are aware that young persons are often injured by the injudicious notice of those friends, who make them of too much importance. We would, in conclusion, recommend the readers of our speculations to preserve the letters they receive, as sources of future amusement. Such documents not only remind us of forgotten facts, but renew past sensations. They enable us to fix dates concerning which we might have no other criteria. There are, indeed, very few how inferior soever may be the style, some part letters which it is not inconsiderate to destroy: of the subject may not be altogether devoid of interest; and when the facts have but little to recommend them, the letters may deserve preservation for elegance of language, or vigour of sen timent. Thinking we cannot err is to err in so thinking.' Thief in the candle wasts it more then the flame. The thief and slanderer are almost ye same; "Ars Understanding must be satisfied with truth and ye will Virtue a lady in ye account of ye Moralist. Her fore- Vicar of Bowden every man cannot be. Understanding considereth things as true or false, ye will Unanimity makes not ye cause good, if badd at first: When Jesuits unto us answer "Nay They do not English speake, 'tis Greeke they say. When Adam delved and Eve span to shew the way. doubt her duty and her ornament. Wise man, not who knows most, but who is endowed To relieve the dullness of this paper, we will Xenocrates said it had often repented him yt he had M. M. Your horse looks like a butcher's horse, he carries a calf so well. With one pen I writ this booke, Here endeth our extracts from the worthy Clergyman's common-place book, tome the first. 380 POETRY. ADIEU. WRITTEN IN 1820. longum, formose, vale vale, inquit, Iola. Nurse of my youth, thou Field of Slain, Who haste to climes where oft for gold And ceaseless vapours stain the skies ; From whom the thrill of feeling's flown. Damp'd, smother'd, dead, no longer move. To stray and catch the breeze, no more, Told by those "Ladies of the Vale; Near bordering Limes, beneath whose shade A Seward sang, an Andrè stray'd. No more beneath thine Edward's dome And fell, unhappy fell, Darius from his state. While changing seasons deck the plain, And Darwin's hallow'd grove in vain renews its green. But chiefly Muse, O Muse, to thee For with the memory of my land Thou didst with such an artful hand The guardian goddess claim'd my theme, Then, heav'nly Muse, say, when my heart From the true cause of the disease To pains arthritic comes,-so this And honours none to bards they pay. And Darwin's flow'ry grove, Farewell! Then hence, my Muse, I'll learn t'arrest DOMINIC. A POET'S APOLOGY FOR LATE HOURS. Addressed to some young Ladies, on their retiring at an early hour in the evening; and found by them, next morning, upon the breakfast table. BY A MODERN PROFESSOR. What, hence to bed! O! never yet, The little hours,-a gentle train,— That move noiseless feet, And clear the world from care and pain, And lie till morning too? I love, like you, his beam divine, Early to bed, to rise betimes;"- And bid us thus, in masty rhymes, And find it no such treat: And when the world is air'd and warm'd, That breaks through April glooms; For harmless mirth, for converse kind, CORRESPONDENCE. DANDYISM. MR. EDITOR,For the benefit of a few of our Townsmen, I take the liberty of enclosing you some extracts on Dandyism. Surely men should never be ambitious of the notoriety and obloquy which must ever attach to a vile affectation of female delicacy, plaits, and pocketholes. JOHN BULL. "God never made a coxcomb worth a groat." "What grieves and induces me to vent my sorrow in your pages, is the change which appears to be taking place in the character of the rising generation. That I am an enemy to refined and polished manners, my situation in life must deny; and it is not of them that I complain. It is of that departnre-not from the simplicity of nature, for that and a state of modern civilization are incompatible, but—from the character of an Englishman, that our rising generation is now undergoing. Did they know with what disgust the Frenchified dandy (I abhor the name) of the present day is looked upon by men much younger than myself, they would be ashamed of the mongrel character which they have assumed; nor can we wonder that when speaking of them, in a convivial hour, a master of fox-hounds was lately betrayed into the expression that "the rising generation of the present day were not fit to throw guts to a bear The expres sion, we must admit, was a coarse one, and can only be qualified by the indignant feeling which gave birth to it. "Having occasion to call on a friend at a celebrated hotel, I confess I felt disgusted with my young countryIt was about one o'clock in the afternoon, the dinner-hour of their ancestors, when the young men of fashion were just crawling from their beds to their breakfast. With the appearance of most of them I was much struck, and could scarcely fancy myself in my own turned away in loathing The ringlets in their hair, the country; but from one or two of them, I confess, I rings on their fingers, the brooches in their neck-cloths, their petticoat breeches, their affected and mincing manner of bringing out their words, their enervated countenances, their epicene appearance, and their foreign look, all contributed to disgust me. I am not, Mr. Editor, men. I repeat it, an enemy to the fashionable refinements of this polished age, provided they be kept within proper bounds; neither am I one of those, a laudator temporis If we now see a young man of fashion riding, he sits on his horse like a pair of tongs, with the legs open, with the tip of his toe just touching the stirrup; and if we meet him in a one-borse carriage, it must be in a French cabriolet, or in a gig with wheels as broad as waggon-wheels, made solely for paved roads. If we are to imitate other nations, in God's name let us imitate them in what they excel. If a man is to be a singer, let him be taught by an Italian; if a fiddler, let him fiddle like a German; and if a painter, let him imitate Vandyke or Rubens; but he need not go from home to learn how to sit his horse, to build a carriage, or to dress and look like a gentleman. like an Englishman, in rude health, and good keeping? Let not the young men of the present day imagine VARIETIES. A young scholar will take it kind if any of the learned readers of the Iris will have the goodness to point out to him the precise shade of difference in the meaning of the words diligo and amo. That they are not synonimous appears from Cicero's Epistle to Silius (Epist. ad Fam. lib. 13, ep. 47) in which he says, "Quid ego tibi commendem eum, quem tu ipse diligis? Sed tamen, nt scires, eam a me non diligi solùm, verùm etiam amari, ob eam rem tibi hæc scribo. Omnium tuorum officiorum, quæ et multa, et magna sunt, mihi gratissimum fuerit, si ita tractaris Egnatium, ut sentiat, et se a me, et me a te amari. Hoc te vehementer etiam atque etiam rogo." He wishes to be informed also of any other passages in the classics where the distinction between the words in Phil-Harmonic Concert.-On the evening of Christmas The "Gloria in excelcis Deo," from Haydn, the Quar "Fielding says "there is a certain air of natural genu-tetto "Lo, my Shepherd is divine," and the Grand Cho lity which it is not in the power of dress to give, nor to "Black men are pearl in beauteous ladies' eyes." And why should an Englishman be ashamed of looking Paris. In the last 4 or 5 days the weather has not only been excessively cold, but also foggy. The streets are constantly wet, owing to the water-courses being in the centre, where the carriages run; and when we return home with wet stockings, and shivering in every limb, we have all the comforts of a French fire-side-either unable to keep more than a spark of fire on the hearth, or if we resolve to have a good one, being nearly smokedried; for there is not one chimney in a thousand, in Paris, which is free from smoking, even when the doors and windows are wide open. Ingenuity af a Russian Swindler. About 10 months A Russian, who passed himself off for a great man, ago, the following very curious circumstance occurred.came to Paris and took lodgings with bis valet in one of lived in the most splendid style, giving parties, and for the largest houses of the Chaussée d'Antin. Here he the first few weeks paying regularly. At length, however, he contrived to get deeply in debt, and meditated decamping; but he was resolved before he went to give a coup d'eclat, which he performed as follows. He called one morning on one of the richest jewellers in Paris, aud desired to look at some diamonds. The French have a high opinion of the wealth and extravagance of the Rus sians, and our jeweller already rubbed his hands in the delight of anticipation. The Russian bargained for jewels to the amount of 140,000 francs, and looked at others to the amount of 150,000, which he desired the Frenchman to take to his lodgings in the course of an hour, when he would pay him for what he had agreed to purchase, and give a decision as to the remainder. The jeweller was of course trae to the appointment, and found the soi-disant Boyard in his drawing-room. The latter instantly went to his secretaire, and took out two bags which appeared to be filled with Napoleons, and a pocketbook, and pretended to be about to pay for the jewels actually purchased; declining at the same time to take those which he had desired the jeweller to bring with him for his decision. Whilst he was opening his pocketbook he seemed to alter his mind, and desired the jeweller to give him the diamonds, and he would shew them to his wife, who was still in bed in the next room. The Frenchman, hoping to sell the whole, gave the Russian those which he had agreed for, and those on choice. The Boyard took them into the adjoining room, leaving the door a little open, and in a minute was in conversation with his lady, as to the merits of jewels. For some time the jeweller, who heard the conversation and saw the door partly open, had no suspicion; but when the noise had ceased for a few minutes he began to be alarmed: after having waited for nearly a quarter of an hour he ventured to peep into the room, where he saw-nobody. He rang the bell and enquired for le Seigneur Russe : the people of the house informed him that the Russian had, in the early part of the morning, paid his lodgings and removed his trunks; and that ten minutes before the jeweller rang the bell, the Russian had taken leave of them. The police were soon on the qui-vive; but the swindler had laid his plan so well, that no more was heard of him. 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. A RIDDLE. BY THE LATE MR. THYER: Many years Librarian at Chetham's Hospital, in this Town, and Editor of "The Remains of the Author of Hudibras." Within a cottage, snug and warm, There dwells an honest pair; And free from anxious care. They're ancient both, and what is still 'Tis said that they were old! Is he disposed to stay at home? The very nuptial tie That still unites them, is the cause For what makes him abroad to roam, WEEKLY DIARY. DECEMBER. TUESDAY, 31.-Saint Silvester. He was Bishop of Rome; and succeeded Miltiades in the papacy, in 314. Silvester is accounted the author of several rites and ceremonies of the Romish church, as asylums, unctions, palls, corporals, mitres, &c. He died in 334. JANUARY. wards the new year, and, on the other, towards REMARKABLE DAYS. This festival was instituted in the sixth century, to commemorate the circumcision of our Saviour. making use of the term in the following beauti- of poetry,-arising from its only sources,—a close ful passage: Methought it was the sound Of riot and ill-managed merriment, observation of the varieties of human life and character, and of the workings of the human heart, and an intimate acquaintance with the infinitely diversified appearances of external na ture. Let sprightly Byron and heavy Bowles argue the question for ever,-let the former contend for Art, and the latter for Nature,-still the true sources of poetry, are, always have been and ever will be,-human life and human charac ter, the workings of the human heart,-and the diversified appearances of external nature. Na ture, passion, incident, and character,-whateve relates to these, conveyed in musical, in strong and in elevated language, is poetry. In all the particulars Chaucer is pre-eminent. His sent be born; the language in which they are incar nated, is worthy of the soul which animates them It is not with him as with many of our moder poets, an eternal sing-song,-one line balancing another exactly like the throws of a weaver shuttle; as thus: New Year's-day in Paris is the most remarkable day in the whole year; all the shops are shut, THE name given to this month by the Romans labour suspends his toil,-commerce reposes on was taken from JANUS, one of their divinities, her oars, and the philosopher postpones his stuto whom they gave two faces; because, on the dies; nature and nature's son enjoy a universal one side, the first day of this month looked to-holiday. For several weeks preceding new year's-ments come crowding forth as if they longed t day, various classes of ingenious artists employ all their talents and skill, with an uncommon lustre on the auspicious opening of the new year; these are the confectioners, the embossers of visiting cards, the jewellers, &c.; and their shops on this day display a degree of taste and magnificence difficult to describe, and totally unknown in England. This is the day of universal greetings, of renewing acquaintance, of counting how precisely as if one line were made for the other many links have been broken by time last year in No;-his rhymes are altogether a secondary con the circles of friendship, and what new ones have sideration ;--they come as it were by chance replaced them. All persons, whatever may be their rank, degree, or profession, form a list of yet they are perfect:-and it always seems as the names of persons whose friendship they wish have done as well. The effect is as if some s independently of the rhyme, no other word would to preserve or cultivate; to each of these persons perior spirit were dictating poetry, and, withou a porter is sent, to deliver their card. Those condescending to think of the rhymes, neverthe more particularly connected with them by bloodless dropped them like the touches of a master or friendship, are visited in person; and all who meet embrace on this happy day. Millions of pencil, exactly of the right kind, and in exact the right places. This is also New Year's-day, which has ever been These poor jolly wassail boys, Come travelling through the mire ; and, having obtained this either in meat, drink, The rout of rural folk come thronging in, And in their cups their cares are drowned: Fletcher, in his Faithful Shepherdess, has given a striking description of the festivity attendant on the wassail bowl: cards are distributed; and nothing is seen in the BEAUTIES OF ENGLISH POETRY. No. II. CHAUCER-Continued. I omitted to mention-for I did not wish to The woods, or some near town 'That is a neighbour to the bordering down, Hath drawn them thither, 'bout some lusty sport, Or spiced wassel-boul, to which resort All the young men and maids of many a cote, Whilst the trim minstrell strikes his merry note. No one who aspires to be a poet,-no one who The persons thus accompanying the wassail bowl, especially those who danced and played, feels the inspiration of the heaven-born spirit of were called wassailers, an appellation which it poesy swelling within his bosom, but is at a loss was afterwards customary to bestow on all who in what manner of language that spirit shall reindulged, at any season, in intemperate mirth.ceive its incarnation, ought to neglect the study Hence, Milton introduces his Lady in Comus of Chaucer. In Chaucer we have the true-birth "Ye nymphs of Solyma, begin the song, To heavenly themes sublimer strains belong;" this well of English undefiled;" and belier Drink then ye youthful poets, drink deeply that every draught is a sort of secondary inspis ation Nocturnâ versate manu, versate diurna." With him there was his son, a young Squier With locks as curl'd as toey were laid in press.; I Of twenty years of age he was, guess. Embroider'd was he, as it were a mead A Yeoman had he, and servants none beside, And certainly she was of great disport, And full pleasant, and amiable of port, And took great pains to imitate the cheer+ Of court, and to be stately of manner, And to be held worthy of reverence. But for to speaken of her conscience, She was so charitable and piteóus She wouldë weep if that she saw a mouse Caught in a trap if it were kill'd or bled. A Monk there was, fair for the mastery' His sleeves I saw were trimmed at the hand cret : measured for a new peruke, and a taffety robe de chambre, earnestly enjoining the utmost expedition. Shut the door!' said Moncriff, observing the surprise of his friend. "And now that we are alone, I confide my seon rising this morning, my valet showed me on this leg this dark spot-from that moment I knew I was 'condemned to death;' but I had presence of mind enough not to betray myself.'-Can a head so well organised as yours imagine that such a trifle is a sentence of death?' Don't speak so loud, my friend!--or rather deign to listen a moment. At my age it is fatal! The system from which I have derived the felicity of a long life has been, that whenever any evil, moral or physical, happens to as, if there is a remedy, all must be sacrificed to deliver us from it--but in a contrary case, I do not choose to wrestle with destiny and to begin complaints, endless as useless! All that I request of you, my friend, is to assist me to pass away the few days which remain for me, free from all cares, of which otherwise they might be too susceptible. But do not think,' he added with warmth, that I mean to elude the religious duties of a citizen, which so many of late affect to contemn. The good and virtuous curate of my parish is coming here under a pretext of an annual contribution, and I have even ordered my physician, on whose confidence I can rely. Here is a list of ten or twelve persons, friends beloved! who are mostly known to you. I shall write to them this evening, to tell them of my condemnation; but if they wish me to live, they will do me the favour to assemble here at five in the evening, where they may be certain of finding all those objects of amusement, which I shall study to discover suitable to their tastes. And you, my old friend, with my doctor, are two on whom I most depend.' La Place was strongly affected by this appeal-neither Socrates, nor Cato, nor Seneca looked more serenely on the approach of death. Familiarize yourself early with death!' said the good old man with a smile-' It is only dreadful for those who dread it!' to stretch out the gaunt anatomy into the postures of a Hogarth; and that the ludicrous might be carried to its extreme, this imaginary being, taken from the bonehouse, was viewed in the action of dancing! This blending of the grotesque with the most disgusting image of mortality, is the more singular part of this history of the skeleton, and indeed of human nature iaself! HISTORY OF WRITING MASTERS. Among these knights of the "Plume volante," whose chivalric exploits astounded the beholders, must be distinguished Peter Bales, in his joust with David Jonson. In this tilting match the guerdon of caligraphy was won by the greatest of caligraphers; its arms were assumed by the victor, azure, a pen or; while "the golden pen," carried away in triumph, was painted with a hand over the door of the caligrapher. The history of this renowned encounter was only traditionally known, till with my own eyes I pondered on this whole trial of skill in the precious manuscript of the champion himself; who, like Cæsar, not only knew how to win victories, but also to record them. Peter Bales was a hero of such transcendant eminence, that his name has entered into our history. Hollingshed chronicles one of his curiosities of microscopic writing, at the time the taste prevailed for admiring writing which no eye could read! In the compass of a silver penny this caligrapher put more things than would fill several of these pages. He presented Queen Elizabeth with the manuscript set in a ring of gold, covered with a crystal; he had also contrived a magnifying glass of such power, that, to her delight and wonder, her majesty read the whole volume, which she held on her thumb nail, and "commended the same to the lords of the council and the ambassadors;" and frequently, as Peter often heard, did her majesty vouchsafe to wear this caligraphic ring. "Some will think I labour on a cobweb"-modestly exclaimed Bales in his narrative, and his present historian much fears for himself! The reader's gratitude will not be proportioned to my pains, in condensing such copious pages into the size of "a silver penny," but without its worth! During ten days after this singular conversation, the whole of Moncriff's remaining life, his apartment was open to his friends, of whom several were ladies; all kinds of games were played till nine o'clock, and that For a whole year had David Johnson affixed a chalthe sorrows of the host might not disturb his guests, he lenge" to any one who should take exceptions to this played the chouette at his favourite game of picquet: a my writing and teaching." He was a young friend of supper, seasoned by the wit of the master, concluded at Bales, daring and longing for an encounter; yet Bales eleven. On the tenth night, in taking leave of his friend, was magnanimously silent, till he discovered that he was Moncriff whispered to him, Adieu, my friend! to-morrow" doing much less in writing and teaching" since this morrow morning I shall return your books!' He died, public challenge was proclaimed! He then set up his as he foresaw, the following day. THE SKELETON OF DEATH. Mr. Abernethey in his Physiological Lectures has ingeniously observed, that Shakespeare has represented The great Maximilian the emperor came to a monastery Mercutio continuing to jest, though conscious that he in high Almaine (Germany,) the monks whereof had was mortally wounded; the expiring Hotspur thinking caused to be curiously painted the charnel of a man, of nothing but honour; and the dying Falstaff still crack-which they termed-DEATH! When that well-learned ing his jests upon Bardolph's nose. If such facts were emperor had beholden it awhile, he called unto him his July attended to, they would prompt us to make a more painter, commanding him to blot the skeleton out, and liberal allowance for each other's conduct under certain to paint therein the image of-A FOOL. Wherewith the circumstances than we are accustomed to do.' The truth abbot humbly beseeching him to the contrary, said, 'It seems to be, that whenever the functions of the mind are was a good remembrance!'-Nay,' quoth the emperor, not disturbed by the nervous functions of the digestive as vermin that annoyeth man's body comes unlooked for, organs,' the personal character predominates even in so doth death, which here is but a feigned image, and death, and its habitual associations exist to its last mo- life is a certain thing, if we know to deserve it.' The nents. Many religious persons may have died without original mind of Maximilian the Great is characterised showing in their last moments any of those exterior acts, by this curious story of converting our emblem of death or employing those fervent expressions, which the col- into a party-coloured fool; and such satirical allusions ector of The Book of Death' would only deign to to the folly of those who persisted in their notion of the chronicle; their hope is not gathered in their last hour. skeleton were not unusual with the artists of those times; It may be a question whether those who by their pre- we find the figure of a fool sitting with some drollery aratory conduct have appeared to show the greatest between the legs of one of these skeletons. ndifference for death, have not rather betrayed the most surious art to disguise its terrors. Some have invented mode of escaping from life in the midst of convivial enjoyment. A mortuary preparation of this kind has Deen recorded of an amiable man, Moncriff, the author of Histoire des Chats' and ' L'Art de Plaire,' by his iterary friend La Place, who was an actor in, as well as he historian of the singular narrative. One morning La Place received a note from Moncriff, requesting that he would immediately select for him a dozen volumes bost likely to amuse, and of a nature to withdraw the eader from being occupied by melancholy thoughts.' a Place was startled at the unusual request, and flew ⚫ his old friend, whom he found deeply engaged in being This story is associated with an important fact. After they had successfully terrified the people with their charnel-house figure, a reaction in the public feelings occurred, for the skeleton was now employed as a medium to convey the most facetious, satirical, and burlesque Lotions of human life. Death, which had so long harassed their imaginations, suddenly changed into a theme fertile in coarse humour. The Italians were too long accustomed to the study of the beautiful to allow their pencil to sport with deformity; but the Gothic taste of the German artists, who could only copy their own homely nature, delighted to give human passions to the hideons physiognomy of a noseless skull; to put an eye of mockery or malignity into its hollow socket, and counter-challenge, and in one hour afterwards Johnson arrogantly accepted it, "in a most despiteful and disgraceful manner.' Bale's challenge was delivered “in good terms," "to all Englishmen and strangers." It was to write for a pen of gold of twenty pounds value in all kinds of hands, "best, straightest, and fastest," and most kind of ways; "a full, a mean, a small, with line and without line; in a slow set hand, a mean facile hand, and a fast running hand;" and further, "to write truest and speediest, most secretary and clerk-like, from a man's mouth, reading, or pronouncing, either English or Latin." Young Johnson had the bardihood now of turning the tables on his great antagonist, accusing the veteran Bales of arrogance. Such an absolute challenge, says he, was never witnessed by man, "without exception of any in the world!" And, a few days after, meeting Bales, "of set purpose to affront and disgrace him what he could, showed Bales a piece of writing of secretary's hand, which he had very much laboured in fine abortive parchment," uttering to the challenger these words: "Mr. Bales, give me one shilling out of your parse, and if within six months you better, or equal, this piece of writing, I will give you forty pounds for it." This legal deposit of the shilling was made, and the challenger or appellant was thereby bound by law to the performance. The day before the trial a printed declaration was affixed throughout the city, taunting Bale's " proud poverty," and his pecuniary motives, as "a thing ungentle, base, and mercenary, and not answerable to the dignity of the golden pen!" Johnson dec'ares he would maintain his challenge for a thousand pounds more, but for the respondent's inability to perform a thousand groats. On Michaelmas day, 1595, the trial opened before five judges the appellant and the respondent appeared at the appointed place, and an ancient gentleman was |