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WEEKLY DIARY.

SEPTEMBER.

REMARKABLE DAYS.

SUNDAY 8.-Nativity of the Virgin Mary. A concert of angels having been heard in the air to solemnize this important event, the festival was appointed by Pope Servius about the year 695. Innocent IV. honoured this feast with an octave in 1244, and Gregory XI., about the year 1370, with a vigil.

SATURDAY 14-Holy Cross.

This festival was first observed in the year 615, on the following occasion:-Cosroes, King of Persia, having plundered Jerusalem, carried away large pieces of the cross which had been left there by the Empress Helena. Heraclius, the emperor, soon afterwards engaged and defeated him, and recovered the cross; but, bringing it back in triumph to Jerusalem, he found the gates shut against him, and heard a voice from heaven saying, that the King of Kings did not enter into that city in so stately a manner, but meek and lowly, and riding upon an ass. The emperor then immediately dismounted from his horse, and walked through the city, barefooted, carrying the

cross himself.

thing that I have often turned in my mind-what became of that list of odd sayings and eccentric doings of painters, which you collected so many years ago, and which you intended to publish?"

"O poor Master Davies!" answered my reverend friend," poor Tom-that was one of his sins! Why my friend Tom came to me one morning, and what with a little coaxing, and a little flattery thrown into the scale, I am afraid," added the Doctor in a whisper, he contrived to beg the loan of them afterwards asked my perthis said independence among the Poets, by way of conmission to publish them, with a treatise on the want of trast-exposing the meaning of certain illustrious dedicators to their thrice illustrious dedicatees. Tom was full of it, and I verily believe intended to set about it, but was afraid of the reviewers; for I must needs lug do,' said he and so the matter was left from time to in Dryden, and Addison, and Pope, and that will never time, and I never made enquiry about it, until some years after my worthy Tom was laid in the earth. I suppose my labours, like many another scrap-monger's, may have found their way to some other sort of mongers, to wrap batter and cheese. Yet, now you mention it, I do wish, if they were not so disposed of, that I could stumble upon them, for I recollect that the catalogue of whims and eccentricities was very amusing."

it

"Mr. Barry, how do you do, Sir?'-' My Lord Duke, your most obedient.'

"Mr. Barry, we have had a little difference of opi'nion regarding the merits of that picture, and—a—a— unfortunately the fair are against me, Mr. Barry. I think it not at all in a fine gusto-not at all in the Italian taste. In short, wanting in grace-wanting in-a-in short, a very clumsy composition. Do you not think so, Mr. Barry?"

"Certainly I do not.'

"Well but, Sir, with deference, do you call those limbs well drawn?'

"Why not, my Lord Duke?'

“‹ O, then I am no judge, Mr. Barry!' rather haughtily.

"Perhaps not,' replied the painter with great indifference.'

"But do you mean to say, Barry, that those limbs are anatomically designed?'

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ha-ha-ha-ha!-pho-pho! It is a noble productionAnatomically-anatomically, my Lord Duke!a magnificent production. Anatomically!' turning indig nantly away-Yes, they are anatomically designed. Pho-pho! what should you know about anatomy!'and turning on his heel, resumed his occupation of exa

mining the collection in admiration.

apostrophized the Counsellor-"when my honoured. "When James Wyatt-ah, there was a man, Sir!" friend Wyatt related this to the King, to be sure how His Majesty laughed, as well he might.

related that Sir Godfrey Kneller was pretty blunt-no "Aye, Sir," replied the Counsellor, "I have heard time-server-and so was Sir Peter Lely, for he would Master Stewart-he was not very mealy-mouthed with not paint the Judges in their chambers. Then there was his employers, for he tossed their pictures out at win-served His Majesty-but it was proudly said. He felt,

dow. But my countryman, the Professor, he beat them The ceremony of hissing the cross is performed all out of the field. Believe me, Sirs, he was everlastin the Greek Church on this day. The men standingly at bay even at his patrons-Yes, Master Barry, on one side, and the women on the other; several he roundly told the old Earl of Radnor, one of the priests chaunt hymns, and the church is filled founders of the Society for the Encouragement of Arts, with clouds of incense. A crucifix in a basket when at his Lordship's table-O, I pity you men of of flowers is placed before the altar, which each family--you natural lords-you are coddled babes, the person, having first crossed himself, kisses, takes greater part of you, to the end of your days!' one of the flowers, and deposits a small piece of coin in a dish held by one of the priests.

WINE AND WALLNUTS.

CHAPTER IX.

"I do not know that I could name a man who was more universally known, or more generally esteemed, than the said James Christie," said the Counsellor; "for he had the good word of every one, from the first peer in St. James's Square, down to the Moor-fields broker Yes, the highest personages in the kingdom would go and chat with him by the hour. Pray, Docthor, what think you was he, or was he not a judge of pictures?" r Why," replied the Doctor," he could not fail to have some judgment, being a man of sound intellect: first, because he had more fine pictures pass through his hands than any auctioneer who had lived up to his time; and secondly, because"

"

Yes, Docthor, once-it must be six and twenty years ago—I was at the Lyceum, that place there in the Strand built by Payne the architect, for the Chartered Society of Artists-he who swallowed up all their funds in bricks and mortar-Well, Sirs, in this very place in the very Exhibition-room-there, by the strange mutability of mundane matters, was deposited the magnificent collection of that incomparable scoundrel, the Duke D'Orleans, Mister Egalité.

"One morning I went there with Salomon the violin master-Salomon was no mean connoisseur-and there stood Barry with his great coat on his arm-in the dog days, mind you-reading the schools, as Dick Dalton used to say, and marmuring to himself That has been re-touched-and that has been cleaned-clean out-d**n the Mohawks-and there! blister the rude hands that

did that unholy work!' To be sure he was a mortal Scourge, sleeping and waking, to picture-cleaners; for he used to roar out in his dreams Let that Leonardo da Vinci alone, you miscreant !'

1

"Well, but to the point. Who should come in, among the flood of fashionables, but the Duke of Queens"What more than Cock ?-Why he had a great run— berry, who looking through his glass rapidly from one a mighty field at one time-and that reminds me of that picture to another, with his eye first directed to the floor impudent rogue, Sam Foote. How capitally he hit him and next to the ceiling-which, Docthor, reminded me off! Certainly that was one of the best pieces of mi- of an old trick in France, namely, the connoisseurs, one micry I had ever witnessed. Cock was irritable-how- on another's shoulder, with a long cloak, or roquelaure, ever I will do him the justice to say he was a consciento cover them, and the hat extended above the hands at tions auctioneer, and sometimes said good things in the arm's length-just so peered his Grace up and down; rostrum-but he could not manage the picture-dealers. when addressing himself to another Duke, who knew as To be sure he had an honest contempt of their dirty little, and cared, perhaps, even less about such matters tricks; but he had no discrimination, and occasionally Pray, my Lud Duke, do you not think that figure is mistook a group of unshaven artists, who were not in out of drawing?—Very ill drawn, indeed. See, observe, those days over-long at the toilette, for a nest of dirty my Lud Duke, those limbs are quite preternatural-conbrokers, or a confederacy of picture-dealers; and a trary to all just form-out of all proportion. It is cerquestion touching the authority of Master Cock's judg-tainly very incorrect-very outré-and the picture quite ment from any of these worthies, threw him off his common-place, indeed.' The subject, if I recollect guard, when he was sure to commit himself-worse by rightly, was Rubens's Judgment of Paris. his apology, as is often the case with petulant men, than in the error that begot it. Now your painters in all ages were an high, proud, independent sort of gentry-at least so their biographers relate-and I confess my own experience has confirmed that characteristic, as far as I have known them. They are an independent community, and so much the better.

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"Now Lady ********* and her two sisters, verily the three Scottish Graces, having some knowledge of drawing, and possessing fine taste, took the liberty of admiring the piece. Duke Hamilton gallantly was of their side.

"There is Mister Barry,' said his Grace of Queensberry, not at all disposed to yield his opinion--' let us refer the matter to him." It was agreed.

"It was not very courteous of the Professor, obhimself in his own citadel, and knew he was the great man there. It was honest,' rejoined the King-haha-ha! but not decorous. No, Wyatt, I am concerned that so clever, so independent a mind, should possess so little self-control. Sir, Mr. Barry is coarse, and rude to men as honest as himself to the members of his own profession-of his own body. He is rude even to Sir Joshua Reynolds-and he must be wrong! Your President is not only a fine artist, but a fine gentleman.'

"So you think my old friend James Christie had a greater run than Master Cock, aye, Docthor?"

"Doubtless-and I would venture to say, within a few years after his commencement in Pall Mall, after he had built his great room, that he had more grand sales than Cock and Langford together. Christie, although a man of not much education, as I have heard, was blessed with a good understanding. He had an engaging manner, a fine address, and indeed I may add, an elegant mind. Sirs, he was highly gifted. His great sales, particularly his picture-sales, used to draw together not only all the topping connoisseurs and virtuosi, but all the beauty and fashion of the West-end, aud subsequently the Dons from the East. Master James had the good fortune to sail in, as it were, on the spring-tide of collecting, when your commercialists altered their style of living; when the gates of Temple-bar were first opened to let the flood of Taste a little way into the City. Wealth, wealth, Sirs— superabundance of wealth, generally diffused as it has heen within the last forty years, has wrought a mighty a change in these matters. Your Angersteins and your Harmans, your Davidsons and your Hibberts, and multis aliis, have become collectors and patrons of the Arts, whose dull progenitors knew, nor cared no more for these delightful pursuits, than their chuckle-headed idols, messires God and Magog, in their Guildhall,

86 Then, Sirs, with reference to Christie, as I said before, he could not fail to have some judgment, seeing so many first-rate old masters as he did; and then, my worthy Counsellor, he could have the advice of counsel where he had a knotty point. Aye, such men as his neighbour Gainsborough, who resided in the very house, if I am not mistaken, now occupied by our upright and excellent Thomas Paine-Bless me how well he wears!—at least so it struck me as I had a bow from him, standing betwixt his two cariatides, as I was riding along. Then his neighbour Cosway-alas! poor tiny Cosmetic, as that wicked wag, Master Anthony Pasquin, dubbed himPoor Cosway, he was always ready with his friendly advice; he was a neighbour too. Then Reynolds-his opinion was ever at Christie's service; and our old friend Benjamin West-his word was an indisputable authority, when he was disposed to let it out Bat I verily believe he had no reserve with Master Christie. Stay! hold! let me see-then there was Tresham-yes, he was a prime

authority. I should think he and West were the most notable judges of hands among all the learned fraternity ; and as I have been told, no picture-dealer dared open his mouth against their dictum, in their presence al least.

"No man knew the merits of a picture, I suppose, better than Sir Joshlia; bnt he was not so able a connoisseur

as either of these, touching the knowledge of hands. Indeed I have heard that great soul candidly acknowledge

this. An! dear Sir Josh-when shall we see his like again!"

Behold him, while he is doing it seemeth-rather a refreshing warmth, than a scorching heat, that he is so passive to. How equably he twirleth the extreme sensibility of that tender age, he hath round the string!-Now he is just done. To see wept out his pretty eyes-radiant jellies-shooting stars

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255

Methinks it is an ingratitude to the Giver of all "give every thing." "I make my stand upon pig. of the house, slightingly, (under pretext of good flavours, to extra-domiciliate, or send out friendship, or I know not what) a blessing so particularly adapted, predestined, I may say, to my individual palate-it argues an insensibility.

He must be roasted. I am not ignorant that what a sacrifice of the exterior tegument! our ancestors ate them seethed, or boiled-but There is no flavour comparable, I will contend, to that of the crisp tawny, well-watched, not over-roasted, crackling, as it is well called the very teeth are invited to their share of the pleasure at this banquet in overcoming the coy, brittle Why I agree with you, Docthor," replied the Coun- it not fat-but an indefinable sweetness growing whipt to death with something of a shock, as we resistance with the adhesive oleaginous O call sacrificing these tender victims. We read of pigs Our ancestors were nice in their method of sellor; "West indubitably understood picture-craft above up to it-the tender blossoming of fat-fat crop-hear of any other obselete custom. The age of all others. He was learned in hands-most learned. ped in the bud-taken in the shoot-in the first discipline is gone by, or it would be curious to He was cool and sagacious, and had made it his business; innocence the cream and quintessence of the inquire (in a philosophical light merely) what for the King, who was no mean Judge of hands. used fre-child-pig's yet pure foodthe lean, no lean, effect this process might have towards intenerating quently to consult Master Benjamin, and such an honour but a kind of animal manna-or, rather, fat and and dulcyfying a substance, naturally so mild and would naturally stimulate a man to exertion. Sirs, if lean (if it must be so) so blended and running dulcet as the flesh of young pigs. It looks like West had not been master of the business, the King into each other, that both together make but one refining a violet. Yet we should be cautious, would have dubbed him ignoramus in a twinkling." "Aye, no doubt,” said the Doctor; "the world knew ambrosian result, or common substance. little of our good old Sovereign's penetration. I believe while we condemn the inhumanity, how we cenhe possessed the tact of reading men as well as any prince a gustosure, the wisdom of the practice. It might impart that ever filled a throne- and that reminds me of a little story which I heard whispered one day, when we were sitting over our wine at the Deanery. It was when Owen's picture of the worthy Doctor Vincent was just completed and brought home-that picture from which there is an engraving by a clever young artist, Meyer, or Miers, a nephew of Hoppner the portrait-painter, prefixed to the History of the Old Abbey. Well, Sirs, this picture stood on a chair for inspection, and led naturally enough to the subject of the Arts and the Royal Academy, and the founder of that Institution. Then his Majesty's taste for pictures-which by the way leads me to ask, did you ever see the King's old cabinet collection in his private apartments at Windsor? He had some choice little subjects indeed; but it is many years since I saw them. There were two pieces, of the size of what your painters term kit-cat, I think; Warley Camp, and the Encampment on Cox Heath. His Majesty gave a commission to De Loutherbourg to paint them for his private gallery, and they appeared, to my judgment, not inferior to the best pictures of old Wyck, or perhaps Berghem himself. Berghem-Berghem, yes, that is the man. was touching a fine piece by this Master upon which the story in question was hitched. West was in the habit of recommending pictures which be knew were coming to the hammer, as occasional addendas to the King's cabinet. Sometimes when he had made a purchase for himself, be has transferred it to his royal Master. Mark ye, Sirs, I do not mean without an open declaration of the circum

stance.

It

Well, perhaps he got a profit on his purchase that is as it should be. West's judgment would save his patron, in the buying way, cent. per cent. ; and a man may, without any thing derogatory to a liberal profession, benefit his purse by his judgment. But," and here the Counsellor lowered his voice to a whisper-"but it seems the King might suppose that the painter's ardour for collecting might too often draw his purse strings. So one day when Master West being closeted with his patron, began Your Majesty. I have made a purchase at Christie's of a mighty fine Berghem. 1-I would not part with it -it is a school of art in its way, I would not part with it but—'—to your Majesty, thought the King; and so before Mr. West could finish the sentence, the King skill

spe

fully interrupted him with That is right keep it keep it, West; it is well a painter should have some such cimens-not all slip through his fingers, hey, West! Keep it and do not dispose of it-preserve the treasure to yourself!"-Lit. Gaz.

ROAST PIG.

Of all the delicacies in the whole mundus edibilis, I will maintain it to be the most delicate -princeps obsoniorum.

I speak not of your grown porkers-things be tween pig and pork-those hobbydehoys-but a young and tender suckling-under a moon old guiltless as yet of the stye with no original speck of the amor immunditie, the hereditary failing of the first parent, yet manifest his voice as vet not broken, but something between a childish treble, and a grumble-the mild forerunner, or præludium, of a grunt.

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meek he lieth!-wouldst thou have had this inno-
See him in the dish, his second cradle, how
cent grow up to the grossness and indocility which
too often accompany maturer swinehood? Ten
to one he would have proved a glutton, a sloven,
all manner of filthy conversation-from these sins
an obstinate, disagreeable animal-wallowing in
he is happily snatched away-

his

Ere sin could blight, or sorrow fade,
Death came with timely care→

while his stomach half rejecteth, the rank bacon
is odoriferous-no clown curseth,
memory
he hath a fair sepulchre in the grateful stomach
-no coal-heaver boiteth him in reeking sausages
of the judicious epicure and for such a tomb
might be content to die.

He is the best of sapors-
transcendant—a delight, if not sinful, yet so like
Pine-apple is great. She is indeed almost too
to sinning, that really a tender-conscienced per-
mortal taste, she woundeth and excoriateth the
son would do well to pause-too ravishing for
lips that approach her-like lovers' kisses, she
biteth-she is a pleasure bordering on pain from
the fierceness and insanity of her relish-but she
stoppeth at the palate-she meddleth not with the
appetite-and the coarsest hunger might barter
her consistently for a mutton chop.

cative of the appetite, than he is satisfactory to
Pig-let me speak his praise-is no less provo-
the criticalness of the censorious palate. The
strong man may batten on him, and the weakling
refuseth not his mild juices.

of virtues and vices, inexplicably intertwisted,
Unlike to mankind's mixed characters, a bundle
and not to be unravelled without hazard, he is
good throughout. No part of him is better or
worse than another.
He helpeth, as far as his
means extend, all around. He is the least en-
vious of banquets. He is all neighbours' fare.

64

impart a share of the good things of this life
I am one of those, who freely and ungrudgingly
which fall to their lot (few as mine are in this
interest in my friend's pleasures, his relishes, and
kind) to a friend. I protest I take as great an
proper satisfactions, as in mine own.
I often say,
Presents,"
sants, partridges, snipes, barn-door chickens
(those tame villatic fowl,") capons, plovers,
"endear Absents." Hares, phea-
brawn, barrels of oysters, I dispense as freely as
I receive them. I love to taste them, as it were,
upon the tongue of my friend. But a stop must
be put somewhere. One would not, like Lear,

and maintained with much learning and pleasantry the young students, when I was at St. Omer's, I remember an hypothesis, argued upon by on both sides, "Whether, supposing that the added a pleasure upon the palate of a man more whipping (per flagellationem extremam) superflavour of a pig who obtained his death by intense, than any possible suffering we can conceive in the animal, is man justified in using that method of putting the animal to death?" I for get the decision.

His sauce should be considered. Decidedly, a few bread crumbs, done up with his liver and brains, and a dash of mild sage. But, banish, dear Mrs. Cook, I beseech you, the whole onion tations of the rank and guilty garlick; you cannot steep them in shalots, stuff them out with plantribe. Barbecue your whole hogs to your palate, are-but consider, he is a weaklinga flower.poison them, or make them stronger than they Lond. Mag.

SCIENCE, ETC.

THE HELIOTROPE.

A new Instrument invented by Professor Gauss of Göttingen.
When Professor Gauss was engaged, in 1820 at Lüne-

burg, in trigonometical observations, to combine the
Hanoverian with the Danish triangles, he perceived that
when he directed his telescope towards the steeple of
German (thirty-two English) miles distant, the little
Saint Michael's Church at Hamburgh, which was seven
operations. This gave him the idea of using the sun's,
of the sun towards him, and thus impeded him in his
round window in the upper part of it reflceted the image
light for Signals, by catching it with a mirror and re-
flecting it to the place to which a signal was to be given.
from which it appeared that a small mirror, only two or
and of the diminution which it suffers in the atmosphere;
He made a calculation of the strength of the sun's light,
three inches in diameter, was sufficient to reflect the sun's
image to the distance of ten or more German miles. This
importance in the measuring of large triangles, and as
is the Heliotrope, which is described to be of great
likely to supercede the methods hitherto employed.
intended to observe from a great distance. This measuring
Argand lamps with reflectors, at those places which it was
These consisted in placing, or fastening by night, several
by night is very inconvenient, and by day the light of the
of several miles through a telescope.
lamps is much too faint to be always seen at the distance

The inventor of the Heliotrope, on the other hand, had` when he was last year on the summit of the Brocken for measuring the ne idian in the north of Germany; on full proof of the great advantage to be derived from it' Mountain, to determine the three corners of the triangle which occasion Professor Gauss gave signals with this instrument to his Assistant. who was stationed at the disberg in the forest of Thuringia. We learn also that the tance of fourteen German miles from him, upon the Insel

experiments made on the new Observatory at Göttingen on the 31st of October 1821, in presence of the Minister Von Arnswaldt, were perfectly satisfactory.

But the great use of the Heliotrope is not confined to such operations. It will, it is stated, be found greatly to excel the Telegraph for giving signals, and in time will probably supersede it. As the reflected image of the sun is visible at so great a distance, the signal stations may be much fewer. The mode of using it is likewise more simple, it being merely necessary alternately to show and to hide the mirror; the intervals, measured by a stop watch, are the signals. The difficulty, that the Heliotrope cannot be used by night, is the same in the Telegraph. A more specious objection is, that it can be used only in bright sun-shine; but in dull weather the use of the Telegraph is also very confined.

ELECTRICAL EXPERIMENTS ON PAPER.

1.-When a single leaf of writing paper, after being warmed, is laid upon a table, and briskly rubbed with a piece of Indian-rubber, it becomes strongly electrical; on attempting to remove it from the table, it is found to adhere as if it were besmeared with some gluey substance, and if, before it is quite separated, it is suffered to return to the table, it will fly back with considerable force, and adhere almost as strongly as at first.

2. On separating the paper from the table immediately after rubbing, it will be strongly attracted by the table, or any other substance presented to it, and remain in contact for a considerable time.

3. When the knuckle is presented to the paper, on its being first removed from the table, a snapping noise is heard, which is more perceptible if the knuckle be made to pass successively over different parts of the paper. If these experiments be made in the dark, sparks will be seen to accompany the snapping noise.

4.-On employing a double piece, or two pieces of paper, these appearances will be considerably increased. On attempting to separate the two pieces of paper, they are found to adhere strongly together, and their separation is accompanied by a crackling noise similar to that produced by the application of the knuckle, but not so loud. When quite separated, on being again brought within some inches of each other, they are strongly and mutually attracted, and if, while separated, one of them be held between the other and some contiguous substance, it will be alternately attracted by the substance and the other piece, according as it is nearer to one or the other. If the pieces of paper be briskly separated in the dark, there will appear a white flame between them, accompanied with a crackling noise, which will continue till they are quite separated. All kinds of white paper seem capable of producing these appearances, when rubbed with Indian-rubber; in general, the stouter the texture of the paper, the stronger will be the sparks and the attraction.

FASHIONS FOR SEPTEMBER.

BALL DRESS.

Dress of fine tulle over a white satin slip, ornamented nearly half the depth of the skirt with scollops of pink net and steel; the latter formed by a large steel button in the centre, and a semicircle of small steel beads. Short full sleeve, composed of alternate rows of pink net and steel, and white tulle and steel scollops, confined by a band of pink and steel. Tucker, a quilling of the finest tulle. Sash of pink and white embroidered satin ribbon. A wreath of roses confines the hair, which is in ringlets, as in the reign of Charles II. and presented to our admiration in the beautiful paintings by Vandyke. Necklace, red cornelian and pearl. Gloves of white kid; shoes, white gros de Naples.

COURT DRESS.

This elegant robe and petticoat were made for a lady of high rank and taste, as a presentation dress at the Palace of Holyrood. It is of pale blue silver lama, over a blue satin slip; thus combining Scotland's national colours of blue and white, now so prevalent among the leaders of haut ton: the waist is of that graceful length which cultivated taste has adopted, and which we hope will long be retained. The stomacher is of silver vandykes a double row extends over the shoulders and back, united by silver roses. The sleeve is short and of vel construction, consisting of a dozen rows of silver

ke trimmings, separated by blue satin pipings, con

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fined by a silver band round the arm, and finished with the same trimming. The tucker is fine blond lace. The robe and petticoat have an elegant border of large roses, of blue gofre crape and silver, half encircled with thistles, and form a kind of radii, giving lightness and effect to the trimming, which is edged with a silver wave, and finished with scolloped gofre crape. The head-dress is of diamonds, with a superb plume of ostrich-feathers. Necklace and ear-rings of diamonds and sapphires. White kid gloves; white satin shoes, with blue and silver roses.

GENERAL OBSERVATIONS ON FASHION AND DRESS.

As the season advances silk pelisses become every day more general, and the light hnes of summer give place to the full and glowing tints of autumn. Waists still continue long; tight backs are rather more worn than full ones the sleeves (of pelisses) are moderate in width, and we see a great many of these envelopes adorned with braiding: where this is the case, the top sleeve, which is usually made very full, is always finished with tassels. Shawls and spencers continue in favour, but pelisses are more general than either.

Bonnets are still of a very moderate size. The cambric muslin capotes worn in dishabille, begin now to be replaced by straw bonnets: this material, and Leghorn also, are very general in favour for walking bonnets; but gros de Naples is upon the whole more fashionable, except for the earlier part of the day. Flowers are still in favour; we see a good many bonnets adorned with small wreaths at the edge, and full bouquets, which fall Feathers are likewise much backward over the crown.

worn.

The old fashion of long-quartered shoes, both in out and in-door costume, is now very general in the former, black and buff leather are worn. We also frequently see the shoes correspond with the dress. In full dress, white satin and gros de Naples are worn.

Head-dresses en cheveux continue most fashionable. The front hair is rather more parted on the temples; the hind hair dressed low. Flowers are perhaps more general than any thing else; but for grand parties, feathers, pearls, and brilliant combs are all in requisition. The colours most in favour are lemon; the different shades of green, orange, lavender, and deep rose colour.

ADVERTISEMENT.

LITERARY NOTICE.

SALE by AUCTION, by Mr. THOMAS DODD, at his REPERTORY, No. 28, King-Street, Manchester, on MONDAY, September 9, 1822, aud four following days; to commence each day at Half past Ten precisely ;-of an extensive CIRCULATING LIBRARY, consisting of Four Thousand Volumes, embracing

Novels marvellous, new and clever,
Romances also strange as ever;
Tales of freedom, some of terror,
Others to steer you from all error;
Anecdotes of whim and fancy;
Adventures of Tom and Nancy :
And many more without a fiction,
And several nought but contradiction--
Gossip stories of weak frailties,

Of maids with lads; and gents with ladies;
And others too, of old Scotch bogies,
To scare the noddles of old fogies-
Mysterious tales of wanderers;
Of Dæmon's dark and slanderers ;
Of devils too, in many shapes,
Some on crutches; some as apes-
Of midnight spectres, village wonders;
Of Yorkshire tricks and Irish blunders--
Rousing dreams and Monkish legends,
And useful monitors for all friends;
Domestic scenes from real nature,
Other subjects full of satire-
Acts of ladies of fine sense,

Of virtue, beauty, consequence ;
Of lovers' vows, and constancy,
Their honour and their honesty-
Of rakish Jerrys, full of spree,
Their larks and tricks, duplicity;
Of court-intrigues and etiquette,
Specially where there's much to get;
Of knavish tricks of deep stock-jobbers,
And accounts of desp'rate robbers;

Trips to Weymouth and to Margate,
Odd occurrences when at Park-gate;
Eccentric jokes to crack at leisure,
Cheering glees to sing at pleasure-
Courting dialogues, chaste and tender,
Of amorous beaux with belles too slender,
Models for misses, widows, wives,
How to conduct their fature lives-
With useful lessons to old maids,
And moral hints to rakish blades;
Histories too, of worthy note,
By authors of acuteness wrote;
Of lives, memoirs, of actions fought,
Of sieges, battles, dearly bought;
Of victories gained of high renown
By Britain's champion Wellington.
His skilful tacts and evolutions-
His bold attacks and resolutions-
When facing of the enemy
E'en Bonaparte he made to fly.
Plays and farces without number,
The list I give-She Stoops to Conquer,
All for Love, and Love's Last Shift,
The Wedding Night, and Hunt the Slip.
Clandestine Marriage, Gretna Green,
A ready road to cure love's spleen;
The Irish Widow; Mourning Bride-
Wives of Windsor; England's pride-
High Life Below; the Dead Alive,
Secrets Worth Knowing, Way to Thrive-
Robin Roughhead, Speed the Plough,
The Irishman at Fontainbleau-
Wheel of Fortune, Wandering Jew,
Grecian Daughter and Othello;
The Busy Body-Village Lawyer,
Who's the Dupe--The Duped Farmer;
Recruiting Sergeant, Soldier's Daughter,
And Dr. Last, to raise your laughter:
Mayor of Gariat, Who's Afraid,
Hob in the Well, The Bumpkin Blade-
The Rehearsal, what do you dite it,
What it ends with, As You Like It.

Now to those of pensive mood
Are reveries of solitude;

But if they wish to curb the fit,
There's Bennett's Treasury of Wit-
And several more to entertain,
Valetudinarian of his pain.

Well now 'tis time to draw a line,
And end this jingling, prosing rhyme;
As what's not noted in this prologue,
You'll find within the Catalogue;
Which you may have if you'll apply,
To Dodd at his Repertory.

Now to the Sale and shew your merit,
By bidding up, and that with spirit.

Our readers will perceive, that we have this week made an alteration in the arrangement of our paper, by which means we are enabled to give an additional quantity of matter, amounting to nearly three columns.

We cannot omit this opportunity of expressing our acknowledgments of the uniformly increasing favour, with which our publication is received, and to renew the assurance, that no exertions shall be spared to render it deserving of continued encouragement and support.

TO CORRESPONDENTS.

The members of "The Club" deeline giving any opinion sper the legal case proposed by Julianus.

J. K.'s paper "On Animal Poisons," shall appear in our next number.

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A LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MISCELLANY.

This Paper is Published Weekly, and may be had of the Booksellers in Manchester; of Agents in many of the principal Towns in the Kingdom; and of the News-carriers. The last column is open to ADVERTISEMENTS of a Literary and Scientific nature, comprising Education, Institutions, Sales of Libraries, &c.

No. 33.-VOL. I.

FOR THE IRIS.

ON ANIMAL POISON.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 14, 1822.

THERE are few terms more vaguely and indiscriminately applied than the word poison. It is true that we understand by it something that is injurious to animal existence; but we apply it also to substances, which, under proper circumstances, are advantageously employed for the preservation of life. Among the matters which are most commonly denominated poisons, the principal are the corrosive muriate of mercury, the alcoholic extract of opium, and the white oxide of arsenic; yet these are used in medicine for the bePaleficial effects which they produce. On the other

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and, there are innumerable substances which are Jen common use as articles of diet and drink, and vhich are never considered as poisons, though heir effects are sometimes fatal. Such, for intance, are fruits, spirituous liquors, &c. If it e said, that any of the latter are dangerous only when taken in excess, and that the former are ever prescribed but in small quantities, the obection to their being ranked as poisons, or rather o the term itself in its common acceptation, is ot at all affected; for it is merely saying, that dhe former are not administered in quantity enough o produce bad effects. It is the use in excess of he arsenic, laudanum, or the corrosive sublimate, which terminates the existence of the animal; as t is the use in excess of spirituous liquors, &c. which has the like consequence. Hence, thereore, the term poison is either not applicable as lefining a deadly property of certain drugs, usully considered as poisons, or it is applicable to very article of food, which taken in excess, will estroy life; and, in this case, what is not a oison?

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There is, however, one class of substances to hich this term does not seem inappropriately pplied. It is the matter with which some animals f the reptile and insect species are furnished for efensive or offensive operations, which they perorm by means of organs peculiarly adapted for he purpose. Nature has made the deadly intention of this matter obvious; but no one will say hat the intention of some metallic oxides and

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rinciples of vegetables is to destroy life. These an only be called, with propriety, poisons, when hey have produced dangerous or injurious effects, nd even then only with reference to the suffering dividual. A man may be said to be poisoned hose life is passing away in a state of torpor, nder the operation of an excess of opium; but he opium cannot be called a poison when it has emoved a violent pain. The animal matter known venom may be strictly called a poison, since it secreted to produce those effects, by which it

The French Institute, when Napoleon invaded Italy, recom

sended the oxide of arsenic, which is synonymous with poison mong the vulgar, as a specifice against a contagious disorder then aging in the army.-Dr. Duncan's Edin: Dispens.

Flesh meat is often cured with nitrate of potass, of which an ounce taken into the stomach will occasion death, predeel by excruciating pains. Many other articles might be eunnerated, but any one will sufficiently serve for an example.

is peculiarly distinguished from every other animal substance. The purulent matter which is evolved during the progress of some disorders, though producing fatal effects, cannot in this point of view be considered as poison, since it is as destructive of the individual which communicates, of the mad dog is liable to the same objection. Rollo, however, considers contagious pus, and particularly that which exudes from chronical ulcers, as a poison sui generis; but he does not affix any precise meaning to the term.

as that which receives the infection. The saliva

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PRICE 3 d.

seded. Under the impression of its being an acid, Dr. James suggested ammonia, as a remedy for the venom of serpents. Fontana, however, found that this liquor was neither acid nor alkaline; but possessing properties which are characteristic of gums, he concluded it to be an animal gum. Under a microscope, it presents an oily, viscous liquid, more or less yellow. Its taste is scarcely sensible; it is not acrid and burning, like the venom of bees, wasps, and scorpions. It leaves an astringency on the tongue, and inflames the parts of the body with which it comes in contact. Of the animal poisons, properly so called, the In this stage of the examination, it is stated that most familiar to us is the venom which nature has dogs are greedy of bread which has been moistened bestowed on some species of serpents, on the bee, with the venom. It is without odour, thickens on exposure to the air, and is converted into a the wasp, the hornet, and the scorpion, for purposes of self-defence and annoyance to their ene- transparent gelatine; when dried in the air, it mies. We are most interested in the first, as adheres to the teeth like gum, and still retains its animals than that of insects; and the venom of ten or twelve months; hence there is danger in being more capable of seriously affecting large venomous property, which it does not lose for the coluber vipera has, therefore, been more care-handling the heads of vipers recently dead. fully examined than the venom of other species. From the observations of Dr. Russel, it appears that there is a sufficient analogy in the venoms of the different species* to warrant us in concluding, that their essential properties are the same, and a description of the properties of the venom of the viper may, for the present, be taken for that of sects just mentioned, it will be found to possess genus. With respect to the venom of the innearly the same properties as the other kind.

the

It is not exactly within the province of a chemical enquiry, to notice the formation of the organs which the reptile employs to inflict a wound and present its poison; but it will occupy very little space. In the front of the head, the viper has a moveable bone on both sides, which forms part of the upper jaw. Each bone is furnished with two holes, in which are placed two or three sharp and slightly curved teeth. These teeth are hollow, and have a canal, which forms, at the point of the tooth, a narrow elliptical opening, through which a yellowish liquor passes when the viper bites. The venom is secreted by a gland at both sides of the jaw, from which it is conducted by a canal into the hollow of the tooth. It is also provided with muscles to compress the gland at the moment of biting, and force out the venom through the teeth, and into the wound.

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When the venom is heated, it does not fuse, but swells and puffs out, and bursts into flame. By agitation, it is diffused and dissolved in water. When just taken from the viper, it falls down in the water like heavy oil. Dried venom is soluble in warm water, and insoluble in alcohol. The acids and alkalis have very little action upon it, lution. and alcohol precipitates it from its aqueous so

To those who are unaccustomed to chemical investigations it may be necessary to observe, that most of the above properties are the character

istics of gums. Fontana made some comparative experiments on the venom, and gum arabic, from which he was confirmed in the opinion that the former is a real animal gum, and it is the only one at present known.

The venom of the bee and the hornet is acrid and burning on the palate; a drop of it diluted with water is sufficient to excite a lively sensation of pain on the tongue. This property it preserves several days. Paper stained with the juice of radishes, becomes on the addition of this venom a weak red, and at length a pale yellow. In these points only it differs from the venom of the viper. That of the European scorpion acts much in the

same manner.

When just darted from the sting

it is white, viscous, and burns on the tongue. Its other properties, like those of the viper, are the same as a gum. Dr. Russel observed that the venoms of the Indian serpents became still more mucilaginous in the air than those of Europe, and acquired a yellow colour. In this, then, they differ from that of the viper, which is yellow in its natural state. Some he found to be totally destitute of taste, but possessing the property of turning black, and feebly coagulating the blood.* Thus much for the chemical properties of animal poison; its operation on injection into a wound may not be uninteresting.

The attention of medical men, it may be easily conceived, was directed to this substance at an early period; but no true notion of its nature was acquired, until Felix Fontana, a man of much experience in animal chemistry, instituted a series of interesting experiments on the venom of the viper, which he published under the title of Ricerche Fisiche sopra il Veneno della Vipera, at Lucca, in 1767. Redi, an Italian physician, is stated to have first attempted an analysis of it, and so well did he succeed, that he compared it to the oil of sweet almonds. It was next regarded, but I know not on what grounds, as a particular acid. This opinion was sanctioned by three physicians of considerable reputation, Mead, James, and Jussien, the first of whom has left a treatise on poisons, which modern discoveries have super-solution. It presented the same phenomena as gum with diluted

• Russell's Account of Indian Serpents, Lond. 1796.

gentleman who made some experiments upon it, is mild in taste, and adhesive; it is not very transparent. It is insoluble in alco.

The dried venom of the rat lesuake, I am informed by a

hol, but very readily dissolves in water at a temperature of 170° Fahr. Alcohol causes a floccalent precipitate from the aqueous

nitric acid. The specimen, which he received from a mere collector of curiosities, who deemed his researches almost sacrilegious, was too small to enable him to pursue them any further

It has been observed that the venom is not in- | jurious to the same species; that one viper cannot poison another. It does not kill, snails, leeches | aspics, and serpents. Tortoises are killed with difficulty, and, in general, it is remarked that animals of warm blood are more rapidly affected than those with cold blood. To a small animal the consequence is almost always fatal, but man and the larger animals seldom die of the bite of the viper. But few animals, if any indeed, escape, it is said, from the bite of the rattlesnake, if no means be taken to counteract the venom. This appears to arise, not so much from any superior | degree of virulence in the liquor, but from the quantity of it, injected into the wound. Men have been known to die from the stings of a hive of irritated bees. Fontana made some experiments on the power of the venom of the viper, from which it appears, that it requires roo part of a grain to kill a sparrow weighing one ounce, and about six times as much for a pigeon of ten He calculates that twelve grains of the venom would suffice to kill an ox of seven hundred and fifty pounds, and three to kill a man of one hundred and fifty pounds weight. The conclusion of this calculation does not accord very well with his data; he says that as at every bite the viper ejects about half a grain of venom, it would require twenty vipers to kill a man.

ounces.

When the venom is applied to a part slightly wounded, its effects are seldom mortal; but when introduced into a deep wound death is occasioned, as when it is injected into a vein. Applied on the muscles, it seldom produces dangerous disorders. It has little action on certain membranes, as those of the leg and cranium, and on bones and the marrow. The comb of a cock inflamed on being wounded by a viper's tooth. Dogs and cats which had been bitten twenty-four times on the nose by a viper, recovered in a few days.

The venom causes two kinds of disease; the one is external, when the wounded part becomes blue, inflames, and mortifies. Internally it attacks the blood, large vessels, the heart and lungs. Some drops of the venom, diluted with water, being injected into a vein in the neck of a rabbit, the animal instantly died, uttering cries of acute pain. The blood near the heart was black and coagulated; but in other parts it was only black. The lungs were spotted and covered with mucilage; the entrails, as well as the muscles of the breast and abdomen, were inflamed. When the venom is added to seven or eight parts of fresh blood, the latter does not coagulate, but becomes black, without separation of the serum. It appears then that the venom of the viper occasions death by causing the blood, to flow rapidly into putrefaction.

It would be difficult to enumerate the different things which have been proposed, from time to time, as antidotes to the venom of the viper. Supposing it to be an acid, ammonia was long considered to be the proper application, and, if I mistake not, it is mentioned as such in the Encyclop Londin. art. Chemistry, under a general description of the properties of ammonia. But alkalis have no action upon venom sufficient to arrest its operation. Buffon and other naturalists have mentioned olive oil. Oils, however, do not act upon gum; but if olive oil produce any good effect, it probably arises from its protecting the blood from the farther progress of the poison, by presenting its own surface, rather than from any neutralizing properties it may possess. Spirits are the most improper, of all applications. Fontana, after trying several means, found that a bath of milk warm water singularly diminished the danger. The wounded part is found to become Popin twenty seconds, it has, therefore, begun

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to mix with the blood. If the part be cut out
before the appearance of this phenomenon, the
individual will be out of danger. This is, perhaps,
the safest proceeding; but Fontana experienced
good effects by applying the preparation of dry
caustic potass, called lapis causticus, upon the
part, before the venom had mixed with the blood.
In this case, as in that of amputation, the danger
is removed by destroying the part, rather than by
any operation upon the poison.

measure with another poet to resemble him. It is the bent of mind-the spirit of the poetry that are the real points of likeness. It is in this view that Barry Cornwall reminds us of Goldsmith. He has the same tenderness-the same touches of simple pathos-the same love of simple images, and of pure and peaceful feelings in general. Accordingly, we do not consider Mr. Cornwall to hare caught much of the spirit of the elder dra matists; he has spoken in their language, indeed, I cannot conclude without expressing a regret, but the sentiments bear them no resemblance. that with so many opportunities as occur in this They have his own sweetness, not their vigourcountry, at least, no rigid, examination has yet his own tenderness, not their passion. This was been made of the saliva of dogs which are under made strongly apparent when he wrote a regular the influence of the hydrophobia, Fourcroy does tragedy; it had none of the discursive fancy, the indeed say, "Il n'est pas douteux que la salive. wildness, or the energy, of our old writers. A comme les autres humeurs animales, ne soit sus- close and successful imitation of their diction was ceptible de beaucoup de variations qui dépendent all the likeness it bore to them; and it was, conde l' individu. Nous en avons un exemple frappant sequently feeble and ineffective. In his own real dans la bave du chien enrage." Those who can style of poetry, however, we do, as we have said, be satisfied with this are not difficult to berate Mr. Cornwall very highly. He has softness, pleased. This variation of the saliva is fully as sweetness, and simplicity, which breathe a deinteresting, and of as much importance to the lightful air of peacefulness over his writings, of welfare of man, as the venom of a serpent; hut which we, consequently, prefer the more contem to investigate it properly will require the close plative and less ambitious portion. It is one of attention of a man, who is at once a physician our literary luxuries to turn from the stormy and an accurate practical chemist. J. K. ocean of Lord Byron to the pure and refreshing green of Mr. Cornwall's poetry.

THE AUGUSTAN AGE IN ENGLAND.
(See page 251.)

We have thought some explanation necessary to the admirers of the poetry of Scott, and of the Lake school, why we did not consider it of aid to our argument. We now return to the writers whose productions, we think, do confirm

it.

Mr. MILMAN is the most classical of our living poets. His beauties are not of a violent and striking kind, but rather those of grace, severity, and order. The pleasure we derive from his works is, as we have heard it finely observed, like that we experience in gazing on a Grecian temple. Fazio is the finest specimen we have of the late endeavours to imitate the old masters:for it is written in their spirit, as well as in their manner, which is not the case with the majority of the works of this kind. Most of these are content with their quaintnesses of expression and obsolete forms of diction; and do not approach, as Fazio does, their freedom, freshness, and simplicity. We are not sure that Fazio, which was Mr. Milman's first poein, is not his best. It has more vigour and less formality than most of his subsequent productions. The Fall of Jerusalem is, however, a nagnificent composition. The contrasted characters of the sisters are among the finest things of the kind which we remember in poetry. This portraiture has the rare merit of possessing all the spirit of striking originality on a subject almost hackneyed. The poem also, as a whole, must ever stand high. We believe the destruction of Jerusalem to be almost unparalleled in the horrors of war : and Mr. Milman's representation of it sets them before us with awful reality-while the softer parts of the work relieve the terrible impression of its general subject.

Mr. ROGERS is the poet who has been usually accounted. Goldsmith's successor; but, though his manner, certainly, resembles him very nearly, we do not think there is much similarity between their minds Rogers is far less a poet of nature

and accordingly his sweetest verses are those which treat of social life. We think his Epistle to a Friend the best part of his compositions. It represents the perfection of "lettered ease"-the beau ideal of the retreat of an intellectual and cultivated gentleman. On this ground Mr. Rogers is at home, and he handles his subject with admirable delicacy and grace. We are far, however, from excluding him from the praise of being a feeling and pathetic writer. Human Life and the Pleasures of Memory abound with passages of true tenderness, although there is a tendency in them, in general, to dilate too much on an idea to trust too little to the effect of the first touch, and thus to become artificial and laboured. The Fragments of the Voyage of Columbus shew flashes of power which Mr. Rogers has nowhere else evinced. The very tone of the verse loses the silken and somewhat monetonous cadence of his ordinary manner, and aequires a grandeur proportionate to the mighty subject. If Mr. Rogers had written more in this style, he would stand far higher than he now does.

Besides this host of poets, whose names are in every body's mouth, there are many others of very great-some of the greatest-merit, who are, from various causes, less celebrated. There is Mr. SHELLEY; who possesses the powers of poetry to a degree, perhaps, superior to any of his distinguished contemporaries. The mixing his unhappy philosophical tenets in his writings, has prevented, and will prevent, their becoming popular. His powers of thought, too, equally subtle and profound, occasionally lead him be yond the capability of expression, and, in those passages, he, of course, becomes unintelligible. Mr. CORNWALL rose to the heights of fame The recurrence of these has led some readers with a rapidity of which we have scarcely any to stigmatize his works generally as incompreprecedent. The two or three volumes of exquí-hensible, whereas they are only the blemishes site verses, which he showered forth upon us with which disfigure them, and which are far more lavish haste, placed him at once in the first rank than repaid by countless and exquisite beauties. of poetry.. He may be considered as the suc- Can any one, indeed, read the Prometheus Uncessor and representative of Goldsmith, not in bound, with a candid spirit, and not admit it to the least in his style, but very much in his spirit. be a splendid production? We condemn, most It is not necessary to have written in the same unreservedly-for in these days it is necessary to

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