instructors of the Anglo-Saxons in the art of cookery. He falls to the lot of sovereigns." strongly denies that any of her cooks ever administered poison to the guests whom she allured by her dainties:physicians and apothecaries, he says, were more likely to do such jobs than the tenants of the kitchen. Henry of Valois (he adds) was a "lover of good cheer, and one who spent whole days at the table;" and it is memorable that the fricandeau was invented in his reign. Henry IV., on the contrary, was an indifferent sovereign, though praised on other grounds by certain historians. That monarch, as Ude relates, did nothing for his cooks." Either nature had not endowed him with a good appetite, or he looked upon them-as in the last century we looked upon soups-as things of hardly any use; but in return they also did nothing for him." Notwithstanding the daily necessity of taking substantial food, the art in question did not, according to M. Ude, become a regular science before the time of Gonthier." What Bacon was to philosophy, Dante and Petrarch to poetry, Michael Angelo and Raphael to painting, Columbus and Gama to geography, Copernicus and Galileo to astronomy, Gonthier was in France to the art of cookery. Before him, the code of eating was formed only of loose scraps, picked up here and there; the names of dishes were strange and barbarous, like the dishes themselves. At length Gon. thier appeared, to raise the culinary edi. fice, as Descartes, a century after him, raised that of philosophy. Both intro. duced doubt, one in the moral, the other in the physical world. Descartes, considering our conscience as the point from which every philosophical inquiry ought to begin, regenerated the understanding, and destroyed that unintelligible empiricism which was the bane of human reason. Gonthier, establishing the nervous glands as the sovereign judges at table, overturned the whole scaffolding of bromatological traditions, the sad inheritance of past ages. He was the father of cookery, as Descartes of French philosophy. If the latter has given rise to geniuses, like Spinosa, Malebranche, and Locke, the former has been followed by a posterity of artists, whose names and talents will never be forgotten. Who has not heard of there is a harmony of taste as well as d'Alégre, Souvent, Richant, and Méze- of colors and sounds. If it were not so, lier? It is said that Gonthier, in less why should the organ of taste be woundthan ten years, invented seven cullises, ed by one composition, and so agreeably nine ragouts, thirty-one sauces, and flattered by another? Thence it follows, twenty-one soups; but who can assert that more sagacity and taste are requisite that Descartes discovered as many facts?! than we are generally willing to allow. In the history of Gonthier, every page To appreciate a sauce, a delicate palate should be read: can we say as much is as necessary to cooks or to guests, as for an historian or a novelist? We a refined ear to a musician. Father know nothing of Gonthier's last mo- Castel wanted only nine scientific eyes to ments; whether he was burnt at the feel the harmony of his colors; and a stake for having conformed to the doc- skilful sauce-maker requires only an extrines of the Reformation, or died a perienced palate, to taste the harmony of natural death; whether poor or rich, in the flavors of his ragouts." exile, or in his own country." "En Catharine de Medici is praised for her encouragement of this noble art. dowed with all the gifts of fortune," says Ude, "the mother and the wife of kings, nature had also gifted her with a palate, whose intuitive sensibility seldom VOL. X. He considers sauces as the greatest refinement in cookery." A sauce, made according to the principles of the art, excites and restores the appetite, flatters the palate, is pleasing to the smell, and inebriates all the senses with delight. We have often heard a noble patron, whose taste on the subject is indisputable, assert that sauces are to food what action is to oratory. He was in the right; and perhaps the wisdom and fertility of nature are not displayed with more splendor in the works of the creation, than is the genius of the cook in the composition of a sauce. Omnis pulchritudinis forma unitas est, said St. Augustine; therefore there must be unity in every good sauce, A general eulogium on this useful science follows." Cookery refines the coarser part of food, deprives the compound substances employed in it of the terrestrial juices therein contained: it improves, purifies, and in some measure spiritualises them. The dishes, thus pre 2 т pared, must then amass in the blood an abundance of purer and finer spirits. Thence arise more agility and vigor of body, more vivacity and fire of imagination, more extent and force of genius, and more delicacy and refinement of taste. It is not, then, so strangely para doxical to rank the improvements in modern cookery amongst the physical causes which have recalled us from the extremity of barbarism to the bosom of refinement, talents, wit, arts, and sciences." The "Apician Morsels" may be dismissed with a few words. Dick Humelbergius Secundus pretends to give a new and improved code of what he ludi crously calls Eatics; but the novelty and the improvement are invisible, senseless ribaldry is substituted for humor, the quotations are most illiterately mangled, and the whole is a most stupid farrago. One specimen of nonsense and frivolity will suffice." The Amphitrion [the entertainer] ought to occupy the centre of the table, as much to be within reach of serving his guests, as that he may superintend their appetites without suffering the plates themselves to direct his attention. After grace has been said, either mentally or in the common way, he distributes the soup, or first entrée: it belongs to the Amphitrion to bless the table in an audible voice, according to the formula of gourmands. The soup is served in proper soup-plates, which are piled up before him. The first, when filled, he gives to his right-hand neighbour, the second to that on the left; he then returns to the right hand, then to the left, and so on alternately. Every one remains served in his turn, without passing the plate. It is the same in every other respect with the dishes served by the Amphitrion. With respect to the side-dishes, every one helps himself, or asks his neighbours who are in proximity with those of which he wishes to partake; but, be it observed, always in silence, and sans cérémonie." * Mrs. Dalgairns' useful volume remains to be noticed. It is less refined than that of Ude, but more calculated for the instruction of families in the middle class of life. Extravagance and profusion are not recommended; the directions are distinct and perspicuous; and any cook or housekeeper, or any mis tress of a family, may soon be enabled, without very close or fatiguing attention to the work, to prepare every dish now in general use. In addition to cookery, the art of the confectioner is also taught by Mrs. Dalgairns; and she has properly added directions for making English wines, for private brewing, the cultivation of the kitchen-garden, and other purposes connected with the subsistence and comfort of families. THE NIGHT of Horror, a Fragment. THE night was dark; but, in the deepblue vault above, myriads of stars were gleaming with that calm lustre which seemed to shed no light beyond their own spheres. And now a scene presented itself which struck terror into the stoutest heart. The abbey-clock began to strike, when suddenly a sound like the rushing of mighty waters, or like a blast of wind roaring amidst the branches of forest-trees, was heard, and, the next moment, devouring flames appeared to wrap the walls in one vast sheet of fire. A cry of horror burst from the multitude; the shrieks of women, and the screaming of children, were mingled with the hoarser exclamations of fear uttered by the men; some fled in dismay, others threw themselves on the ground; wives clung round the necks of their husbands for safety, and hundreds fell upon their knees in a wild agony of prayer. Meanwhile the rushing noise continued with increasing loudness; the flames tossed and heaved about, like the waves of a troubled ocean, now seeming to dart from the windows in masses resembling pillars of fire, then curling up the walls as if instinct with life, or flickering in fantastic shapes round the buttresses and towers. But most strange it was, that neither light nor heat was emitted from this awful mockery of a conflagration. From the bottom to the top, it was one burning surface; yet the grass and weeds that fringed the former were no more revealed to the eye by it, than they were before the mysterious volcano blazed forth. One melancholy circumstance accompanied this night of mystery and panic. A poor idiot girl, about sixteen years of age, had been left in bed by her mother (who was of humble occupation), while THE VILLAGE BEAUTY; with an elegant Engraving. frequented with her lover. She sought, like the stricken deer, to weep in silence and loneliness, and to brood over the barbed sorrow that rankled in her soul. Sometimes she would be seen, in an evening, sitting in the porch of the vil lage-church; and the milk-maids, returning from the fields, would now and then hear her, singing some plaintive ditty in the hawthorn walk. She became fervent in her devotions at church; and, as the old people saw her approach, so wasted away, yet with hectic bloom, and that hallowed air which melancholy diffuses around the form, they would make way for her, as for something spiritual, and, looking after her, would shake their heads in gloomy foreboding." After a considerable interval, while she still lives, though in declining health, a horseman is seen galloping toward her father's cottage. He rushes to her embrace; but her death-like countenance smites him to the soul, and he throws himself in an agony at her feet. She looks down upon him with a smile of unutterable tenderness, and tranquilly expires. NOTICES AND OBSERVATIONS FOR Outrageous Love.-On the authority of a French news-paper, we state the following recent instance of amorous insanity. Similar instances have sometimes occurred on the continent, from the strong impulse of ungoverned feelings. Two lovers, who could not be united in life, resolved to be associated in death. The age of the young gentleman was twenty-two, while the lady was in her eighteenth year. It happened that the former was married before he came within the attractions of the latter. They were both of respectable families. They left Paris for the forest of Montmorency, to take their last farewell of each other in its picturesque retreats. After having wandered in the wood for the day, they took a simple and frugal repast at She the village inn; and, while the house resounded with the music of a wedding which was celebrated below, each perpetrated self-murder. The noise of the merry-making prevented the people in the house from hearing the report of the pistols used by the despairing lovers, and their fate was not known before the next morning, when both were found steeped in blood. The young man had fallen at IN the popular Sketch-Book, the "Pride of the Village" is one of the most pathetic tales. The subject is not indeed new; but it is treated in a very interesting manner. The daughter of a reduced farmer is presiding at a rural fete as the queen of May, when a young officer appears, who, charmed with her beauty, gradually wins his way to her confidence and regard. Being suddenly recalled, he proposes that she should be "the companion of his fortunes." shrinks from the base hint, as if a viper had approached to sting her bosom, and retires to her home for refuge. The officer departs upon his military duty, "confounded, humiliated, and repent ant." Her subsequent story resembles other tales of disappointed love. "She avoided society, and wandered ut alone in the walks she had most a little distance from his mistress, and had dragged himself along the floor, that he might enjoy the melancholy pleasure of holding her hand in dying. They were buried without any funeral service, in unconsecrated ground. May 28.-Conflagration of the Royal Bazaar.-A large building in Oxfordstreet contained both a picture-gallery and a fashionable mart; and the different rooms were nearly filled with company, when confusion and terror suddenly arose. The grand finale of what was called the British Diorama was a view of YorkMinster, as it lately appeared when on fire. The exhibitor of the picture, to give a greater effect to the scene, had a chemical preparation which he set on fire behind the scene, for the purpose of giving a crimson appearance to the flames. Unfortunately a current of air carried the burning liquid to a chimney, and that and some slight wooden material instantly caught fire. A loose scene was next ignited; and, before there was time or opportunity for procuring water, the inflammable nature of the materials in every direction extended the flames to such a degree, that not only the visitors (who at first could not account for the singular appearance of the scene), but the persons belonging to the establishment, were obliged to retreat from the building with the utmost precipitation. As no engines could be brought to play with due effect, the whole structure was nearly destroyed in three hours with the far greater part of its contents. Many females who had stands in the bazaar were so impoverished by the accident, that a subscription became expedient for their relief; but there was one ground of consolation amidst the alarming misfortune;-no lives were lost. We may here observe, that, from the 3rd to the 5th of June, eight fires broke out in or near London; but they were not so remarkable as to require particular notice. June 3.-Dissatisfaction of the Irish Agitator. Mr. O'Connell, instead of being grateful for the late concessions to the catholics, attacked the ministers on various grounds in an address which he sent from his hotel in London to the electors of the county of Clare, and promised to exert his most strenuous efforts, as soon as he should obtain a seat in parliament, for the removal of every grievance and correction of every abuse which the pretended friends of their country suffered to continue. In a public meeting at Dublin, he indulged in similar rhodomontade, and particularly exclaimed against the Union as the chief cause of the distress of Ireland. The act for that arbitrary association, he said, ought to be repealed, and he would leave no stone unturned in such a cause. But we trust that this bold prater will find his level in the house of commons, and will be unable to influence any respectable members by his tirades, his sarcasms, or his sophistry. We may reasonably wish for a reform, but not for such a reform as he would give us. 9.-The Eton Montem.-The object of this triennial procession ad Montem (to the hill) is to obtain a collection for the head-scholar on the foundation, preparatory to his removal for the university, by laying all spectators and passengers under a contribution, demanded as money for salt. This long-established custom is supposed to derive its appellation_from an annual procession of monks to a Saxon tumulus or barrow at Salt-hill, at which time consecrated salt was sold to the spectators. The present spectacle partakes of a military array; the greater part of the young gentlemen are habited in uniforms, and the senior scholars have the dresses of a marshal, colonel, captain, lieutenant, and ensign. The two principal collectors are termed salt-bearers: they wear splendid fancy dresses, and are assisted in the duties of the day by many of the upper boys, who are on this occasion styled servitors. The solemnity lately took place in the following manner.-At an early hour in the morning the servitors were stationed at every approach to Eton, within a distance of ten miles, who demanded salt of the passengers, and the two salt-bearers were actively engaged in plundering the masters, boarding-dames, &c. within the precincts of the school. At half past nine o'clock a public breakfast was given by the provost and headmaster, at their residences, to which the head-scholars were invited. At eleven the ranks were formed in the college square, and, after going three times round, the ensign waved the flag in a graceful manner; the march then commenced, and it was conducted with great order and regularity as far as Salthill, where the flag was triumphantly waved by the captain on the mount. The beautiful gardens belonging to the Castle and the Windmill-inns were open to strangers, who promenaded during the time occupied at dinner. Dr. Keate, the high master, entertained a party of noblemen and gentlemen having sons at Eton, at the Windmill-inn, where many of the young gentlemen also dined. The captain, salt-bearers, servitors, &c. were entertained with equal elegance and plenty at the Castle-inn. We cannot refrain from reprobating the base custom of robbing the public on this occasion. In a country where robbery is so odious and offensive, that even a trifling act of that description is severely punished by law, young gentlemen are allowed to demand money for the benefit of the head-boy of their school, who, however opulent, or high-bred, is not ashamed to appear as a pauper and a mendicant. If any person should refuse to contribute, the party would insult and mal-treat him, and the magistrates, influenced by the aristocracy, would, we doubt not, screen the licentious and unprincipled offenders. The motto which they display on the receipt-ticket is an unwarrantable palliation of immorality and injustice: it is Mos pro Lege; that is, custom may in this instance supersede the law. We say, on better grounds, that such a custom ought to be abolished. The senior, in the late procession, is said to have gained 1,000 pounds: if he has a sense of honor, he will blush at the recollection of the mode in which such a sum was acquired. 16. An Act of Suicide, and two Rescues from similar Attempts. · - We noticed (in February last) the violent spirit of three Hanoverian ladies, one of whom had been disgraced by an arrest. Being still either neglected by their friends, or absolutely friendless, they lately resolved to put an end to their sorrows and their lives. They hired a boat at Greenwich, and, when they were in Limehouse-reach, all three simultaneously leaped up, and jumped overboardone at each side, and the third over the stern. The waterman immediately stopped the boat, and with his right hand grasped one of them, while with his left he held out an oar to another, who supported herself by its aid for a minute on the surface of the water. He then called out murder! and a skiff came to his assistance. Before its arrival he had succeeded in getting two of the ladies into his boat, but the third sank. A constable stated, that he learned from one of them, that they left Chelsea with the intention of going to Woolwich, but, on reaching Greenwich, they changed their minds, and determined on returning home. For that purpose, he says, they got into the boat; but one, being ill, leaned on the boat's side, and fell overboard, and they, in endeavouring to save her, were also precipitated into the water. The waterman's account, however, is most entitled to credit; and we may add, that such crazy violent women ought not to be left at liberty. Fine Arts. EXHIBITION OF THE ROYAL ACADEMY; second Survey. A PICTURE of considerable merit at tracts our attentive notice in the great room. The subject is the expulsion of our first parents from Paradise, and it is treated by M. Dubufe with skill and ability. The offending pair appear in the foreground, with a strong expression of horror and penitence. Eve is half reclining, and resting one hand on Adam's right knee; he bends over her with averted eyes, and hands extended to the utmost latitude, as if hesitating to clasp the cause of his ruin. Near them, in the background, is a noble figure of a lion, and to the left is the ministering angel behind a burning bush, the flame of which, reflected on the body of Adam and the eyes of the angel, produces a powerful effect. The attitudes and expression are appropriate, and the composition in general evinces skill and taste; but the light and shade are not so well managed as we think they would have been by a tolerable English artist. Mr. Howard's "Rebecca, a Study," is a very pleasing performance. His "Night, an Allegory," is finely conceived and admirably represented; and we ought not to neglect or despise the expressive beauty of his Greek Girl. Mr. Briggs is a skilful artist; but he does not impart sufficient dignity to his historical subjects. An amateur is so delighted with his "Margaret of Anjou surrendering her Son to the Protection of |