THE MIRROR
OF
LITERATURE, AMUSEMENT, AND INSTRUCTION.

BELVOIR CASTLE.

Belvoir Castle, (or Bever, as it was formerly and is now
sometimes called,) in situation and aspect partly resembles
“majestic Windsor.” It has a similar “princely brow,” being
placed upon an abrupt elevation of a kind of natural cliff,
forming the termination of a peninsular hill, the basis of
which is red grit stone, but now covered with vegetable mould,
well turfed by nature and art, and varied into terraces of
different elevation. It has been the seat of the noble family
of Manners for several generations; it claims the priority of
every other seat in the county wherein it is situate; and is
one of the most magnificent castellated structures in the
kingdom.

This castle, in some topographical works, is described as
being in Lincolnshire. Camden says, “In the west part of
Kesteven, on the edge of Lincolnshire and Leicestershire, there
stands Belvoir Castle, so called (whatever was its ancient
name) from the fine prospect on a steep hill, which seems the
work of art.” Burton expressly says that it “is certainly in
Lincolnshire,” and the authors of Magna Britannia are of
the same opinion; but Mr. Nichols, whose authority on subjects
of local history, respecting Leicestershire, is generally
decisive and satisfactory, states that “the castle is at
present in every respect considered as being within this county
with all the lands [pg 130] of the extra-parochial part
of Belvoir thereto belonging, (including the site of the
Priory,¹)
consisting in the whole of about 600 acres of wood, meadow,
and pasture land; upon which are now no buildings but the
castle, with its offices and the inn. It would be a
difficult matter, notwithstanding, to trace out with
accuracy, the precise boundary of the two counties in this
neighbourhood.”

That Belvoir has been the site of a castle since the Norman
Conquest appears well established. Leland says, “The Castle of
Belvoir standeth in the utter part of that way of
Leicestershire, on the nape of an high hill, steep up each way,
partly by nature, partly by working of men’s hands, as it may
evidently be perceived. Whether there were any castle there
before the Conquest or no I am not sure, but surely I think no
rather than ye. Toteneius was the first inhabiter after the
Conquest. Then it came to Albeneius, and from Albeney to
Ros.”

The Belvoir estate came into the Manners family, by the
marriage of Eleanor with Robert de Manners of Ethale,
Northumberland. Eleanor was the eldest sister of Edmund, Lord
Ros, who resided at the manor-house of Elsinges, in Enfield,
Middlesex, where he died without issue in the year 1508. His
sisters became heiresses to the estates, and Belvoir being part
of the moiety of Eleanor, became the property of the Manners
family, who have continued to possess it to the present
time.

As the possessors of this castle and lordship have been
chiefly persons of considerable eminence, and many of them
numbered among the great men of history, it may be as well to
interweave a few notices of them with a brief chronological
account of the noble structure. Robert, the first Norman lord,
died in 1088, and was buried in the chapter-house of the
Priory, where Dr. Stukely discovered the stone already named,
to his memory. “By a general survey taken at the death of
Robert, it appears that he was in possession of fourscore
lordships: many of which, by uninterrupted succession, continue
still to be the property of the Duke of Rutland. In
Lincolnshire his domains were still more numerous. In
Northamptonshire he had nine lordships; one of which, Stoke,
acquired the additional name of Albini, when it came into the
possession of his son.” William de Albini, son of the above,
succeeded to these lordships; and, like his father, was a
celebrated warrior: according to Matthew Paris, he valourously
distinguished himself at the battle of Tinchebrai, in Normandy,
September 27, 1106; where Henry I. encountered Robert Curthose,
his brother. This lord obtained from Henry the grant of an
annual fair at Belvoir, to be continued for eight days. During
the changeful reigns of Stephen and Henry II., the castle fell
into the hands of the crown, and was granted to Ranulph de
Gernons, Earl of Chester; but repossession was obtained by de
Albini, who died here about the year 1155. William de Albini,
(alias Meschines and Britto,) the next possessor of Belvoir,
endowed the Priory hero with certain lands, and, in 1165,
certified to Henry II. that he then held of him thirty-two
knights’ fees under the old feoffments, whereby he was
enfeoffed in the time of Henry I. William de Albini, the third
of that name, accompanied Richard I. during his crusading
reign, into Normandy: he was also one of the sureties for King
John, in his treaty of peace with Philip of France. He was too,
engaged in the barons’ wars in the latter reign, and was taken
prisoner by the king’s party at Rochester Castle; his own
castle at Belvoir also falling into the royal hands. He was
likewise one of the twenty-five barons, whose signatures were
attached to Magna Charta and the charter of Forests at
Runnemede. This lord richly endowed the priory of Belvoir, and
founded and endowed a hospital at Wassebridge, between Stamford
and Uffingham, where he was buried in 1236. Isabel, of the
house of Albini, now married to Robert de Ros, or Roos, baron
of Hamlake, and thus carried the estates into a new family. The
bounds of the lordship of Belvoir, at this time, are described
by a document printed in Nichols’s History. This new lord
obtained a license from Henry III. to hold a weekly market and
annual fair at Belvoir. He died in 1285, and his body was
buried at Kirkham, his bowels before the high altar at Belvoir,
and his heart at Croxton Abbey; it being a practice of that age
for the corporeal remains of eminent persons to be thus
distributed after death. The next owner, William de Ros was, in
1304, allowed to impark 100 acres under the name of
Bever Park, which was appropriated solely to the
preservation of game. He died in 1317: his eldest son, William
de Ros, took the title of Baron Ros, of Hamlake, Werke,
Belvoir, and Trusbut; was Lord High Admiral of England, and sat
in parliament from 11 Edw. II. to 16 Edw. III; he died in 1342.
Sir William de Ros, knight, was Lord High Treasurer to Henry
IV.; he died at the Castle in 1414, and bequeathed 400l.
“for finding ten [pg 131] honest chaplains to pray
for his soul, and the souls of his father, mother, brethren,
sisters, &c.” for eight years within his chapel at
Belvoir castle. John and William Ros, the next owners, were
distinguished in the wars of France; the former was slain at
Anjou; the latter died in 1431, and was succeeded by his
son, Edmund, an infant, who, on coming of age, engaged in
the civil wars of York and Lancaster: he was attainted in
1641, and his noble possessions parcelled out by Edward IV;
the honour, castle, and lordship of Belvoir, with the park
and all its members, and the rent called castle-guard, (then
an appurtenance to Belvoir,) being granted in 1647, to
Hastings the court corruptionist.²
The attainder was, however, repealed, and Edmund, Lord Ros
re-obtained possession of all his estates in 1483: he died
at Enfield, and the estates then passed into the Manners
family, as we have stated.

George, eldest son of the above-named Robert Manners,
succeeded to his father’s estates, including Belvoir: in his
will, a copy of which is given by Mr. Nichols, dated Oct. 6,
1513, he is styled “Sir George Manners, knight, Lord Ros.” He
was interred, with his lady, in a chantry chapel, founded by
his father-in-law, Sir Thomas Ledger, in the chapel of St.
George, at Windsor. His son, Thomas, Lord Ros, succeeded him,
and was created by Henry VIII. a knight, and afterwards Earl of
Rutland, a title which had never before been conferred on any
person but of the blood royal. This nobleman aided Henry in the
dissolution of the monasteries, and for his zeal received from
the monarch several manors and estates. He caused many of the
ancient monuments of the Albinis and the Rosses to be removed
from the priory churches of Belvoir and Croxton to that of
Bottesford. He also restored and in part rebuilt the castle,
which had been in ruins since Hastings’s attack. The state of
the castle at this period is thus described by
Leland:—”It is a straunge sighte to se be how many
steppes of stone the way goith up from the village to the
castel. In the castel be two faire gates; and the dungeon is a
faire rounde towere now turned to pleasure, as a place to walk
yn, and to se al the counterye aboute, and raylid about the
round (wall,) and a garden (plotte) in the midle. There is also
a welle of grete depth in the castelle, and the spring thereof
is very good.” Henry, the second Bard of Rutland, succeeded his
father in 1543; and in 1556 was appointed captain-general of
all the forces then going to France, and commander of the
fleet, by Philip and Mary. Edward, the third earl, eldest son
of the former, succeeded in 1563: Camden calls him “a profound
lawyer, and a man accomplished with all polite learning.” John,
a colonel of foot in the Irish wars, became fourth earl in
1587, and was followed by his son Roger, the fifth earl, who
dying without issue, his brother Francis was nominated his
heir, and made the sixth earl. He married two wives, by the
first of whom he had only one child, named Catherine, who
married George Villiers, the first Duke of Buckingham. Her
issue, George, the second Duke of Buckingham, dying without an
heir, the title of Lord Ros of Hamlake again reverted to the
Rutland family. By a second marriage he had two sons, who,
according to the monument, were murdered by wicked practice and
sorcery.³
George was created seventh earl in 1632; and was honoured
with a visit from Charles I. at Belvoir castle, in 1634. The
eighth earl was John Manners, who attaching himself to the
Parliamentarians, the castle was attacked by the royal army,
and lost and won again and again by each party, till the
earl being “put to great streights for the maintenance of
his family,” petitioned the house of peers for relief, and
Lord Viscount Campden having been the principal instrument
in the ruin of the “castle, lands, and woods about
Belvoyre,” parliament agreed that 1,500l a year be
paid out of Lord Campden’s estate, until 5,000l be
levied, to the earl of Rutland. In the civil wars the castle
was defended for the king by the rector of Ashwell, co.
Rutland. In 1649, the parliament ordered it to be
demolished; satisfaction was, however, made to the earl,
whose son rebuilt the castle after the Restoration. John,
the ninth earl, succeeded
[pg 132] his father in 1679. He
preferred the baronial retirement and rural quiet of
Belvoir, to the busy court; though he was created Marquess
of Granby, in the county of Nottingham, and Duke of Rutland.
He died in 1710-11, and was succeeded by his son
John;⁴
whose eldest son became the third Duke of Rutland, and was
the last of the family who resided at Haddon, Derbyshire. He
died in 1779, and was succeeded by his grandson, Charles,
Lord Ros, fourth duke, who died lord lieutenant of Ireland
in 1787, when his son John Henry, the present and fifth duke
succeeded to the titles and estates.

It is now time to speak of the present magnificence of
Belvoir. The castle which surrounds a quadrangular court,
occupies nearly the summit of the hill, which is ascended by
superb stone steps. On the castle are mounted seven small
pieces of cannon, which were presented to the Duke of Rutland
by George the Third; from these pieces 21 rounds were fired
Nov. 5, 1808, in commemoration of the Gunpowder Plot. The view
from the terraces and towers comprehends the whole vale of
Belvoir, and the adjoining country as far as Lincoln, including
twenty-two of the Duke of Rutland’s manors. On the southern
slope of the hill are enclosed terraces, on which there are
several flower-gardens, surrounded by extensive shrubberies.
The kitchen-gardens extend to eight acres. The park is of great
extent, and contains fine forest trees which form a woodland
beneath the hill, so extensive as to afford shelter for
innumerable rooks. There are likewise thriving plantations,
containing some remarkably fine young oaks.

Belvoir Castle has one of the most superb interiors
in the kingdom: its furniture and decorations are of the most
costly description. It also contains one of the most valuable
collections of paintings, whether considered for the variety of
schools, or the judicious choice of the works of each master.
Among those who have contributed to this invaluable assemblage,
are Poussin, Carlo Dolci, Guido, Claude Lorraine, Salvator
Rosa, Murillo, Reubens, Teniers, and Reynolds. The collection
was principally formed by John, the third duke, and Charles,
his successor, who were munificent patrons of the arts. All the
modern pictures, of which there are a considerable number, were
collected by the former duke.

The last general repairs of Belvoir Castle are stated to
have cost the noble owner upwards of 60,000£. The
structure has been more than once extensively injured by fire.
A conflagration there in October, 1816, consumed a large
portion of the ancient part of the castle, and several of the
pictures. Among them was Sir Joshua Reynolds’s Nativity,
a composition of thirteen figures, and in dimensions 12 feet by
18. This noble picture was purchased by the late Duke of
Rutland for 1,200 guineas.

THE PAINTER’S LAST PASSION.

PRESERVATION OF A HUMAN BODY.

In a vault under the Font of the Old Church of St. Dunstan
in the West, has lately been discovered the leaden coffin of a
“Mr. Moody,” (without a Christian name,) who “died in the year
1747, aged 70 years.” After this interment of 85 years, the
face was found not decomposed, but perfect; the mouth
extended—the teeth and eye-brows unimpaired, and to the
touch, the flesh solid (covered with a cloth) and no appearance
of worms; which puzzles the common opinion that such insects
prey upon the dead:

“And food for worms brave Percy!”

exclaimed Prince Henry over the expiring body of
Hotspur.

This observation was made by a person who saw the remains on
the 8th of August, 1832, an older object by twelve years, and
without teeth,—a gum-biter!

AN OLD INHABITANT OF CLIFFORD’S INN.

THE ROSE OF THE CASTLE.

Retrospective Gleanings.

SPIRIT DRINKING.

(To the Editor.)

Much as has been said about gin-drinking in the present
times, it would appear from the following curious extract, that
our forefathers (of the last century,) were more addicted to
that pernicious custom, than we are even in the nineteenth
century:—

“Several of his Majesty’s Justices of the Peace for the
County of Middlesex, having, in pursuance of an order of a
former Quarter Session, made an inquiry into the houses and
places where Geneva and other such pernicious distilled liquors
are sold by retail, about this time made their report; by which
it appears, to the great surprise and concern of those who have
the trade and welfare of the public truly at heart, that there
are in the limits of Westminster, Holborn, the Tower, and
Finsbury divisions (exclusive of London and Southwark) 7,044
houses and shops, where the said liquors are publicly sold by
retail, (which in several parishes, is computed to be, at
least, every sixth house,) besides what is privately sold in
garrets, cellars, back-rooms, and other private places.

“That of this number, no less than 2,105 are unlicensed; and
that Geneva is now sold, not only by distillers and Geneva
shops, but by above 80 other inferior trades; particularly
chandlers, weavers, tobacconists, shoemakers, carpenters,
barbers, tailors, dyers, labourers, &c. &c.; there
being in the Hamlets of Bethnal Green, upwards of 90 weavers
who sell this liquor.”

“January 20th, 1736.” G.K.

THE DEATH OF ADAM.

(From the German.)

When Adam was nine hundred and thirty years old, he felt in
himself the word of the judge, “Thou shalt die.” Then spoke
Adam to the weeping Eve: “Let my sons come before me, that I
may see and may bless them.” They all came at their father’s
word, and stood before him, many hundred in number, and prayed
for his life. “Who among you,” said the old man, “will go to
the holy mountain? Very likely he may find pity for me, and
bring to me the fruit of the tree of life.” Immediately, all
his sons offered themselves; and Seth, the most pious, was
chosen by his father for the message. He besprinkled his head
with ashes, hastened, and delayed not, until he stood before
the gate of Paradise. Then prayed he, “Let my father find pity,
kind-hearted one, and send to him fruit from the tree of life.”
Quickly there stood the glittering cherub, and instead of the
tree of life, he held a twig of three leaves in his hand.
“Carry this to thy father,” said he, friendly, “his
[pg 134] last consolation is here;
for eternal life dwells not on the earth.” Swiftly hastened
Seth, threw himself down, and said, “No fruit of the tree of
life bring I to thee, my father, only this twig has the
angel given me, to be thy last consolation here.” The dying
man took the twig, and was glad. He smelled on it the
fragrance of Paradise, and then was his soul elevated:
“Children,” said he, “eternal life dwells not for us on the
earth; you must follow after me; but on these leaves I
breathe the refreshing air of another world.” Then his eyes
failed; his spirit fled hence.

Adam’s children buried their father, and wept for him thirty
days; but Seth wept not. He planted the twig upon his father’s
grave, at the head of the dead man, and named it the twig of
the new life, of the awakening up out of the sleep of death.
The little twig grew up into a high tree, and by it many of
Adam’s children strengthened themselves with comfort of the
other life. So it came to the following generation. In the
garden of David it blossomed fair, until his infatuated son
began to doubt on immortality; then withered the twig, though
its blossoms came among other nations. And as on a stem from
this tree, the restorer of immortality gave up his holy life;
from it the fragrance of the new life scattered itself around
far among all nations. W.G.C.

ANCIENT NAVAL LAWS.

The laws made by Richard I. for the preservation of good
order in his fleet, when he was sailing to Palestine, were as
follows:—He that kills a man on board shall be tied to
the body and thrown into the sea. If he kills one on land he
shall he buried with the same. If it be proved that any one has
drawn a knife to strike another, or has drawn blood, he shall
lose his hand. If he strike with his fist, without effusion of
blood, he shall be thrice plunged into the sea. If a man insult
another with opprobrious language, so often as he does it, to
give so many ounces of silver. A man convicted of theft, to
have his head shaved, and to be tarred and feathered on the
head, and to be left on the first land the ship shall come to.
Richard appointed officers to see these laws executed with
rigour, two of which officers were bishops.
A.H.K.—T.

Notes of a Reader

THE ATMOSPHERE.—CLIMATOLOGY.

(From Part XIV. of Knowledge for the People; or, the
Plain Why and Because.)

Why may the atmosphere be termed a fourth kingdom of
Nature?

Because it extends its influence in an equal degree over the
three kingdoms, the animal, the vegetable, and the mineral,
operates upon each after a distinct manner, and appears rather
to be independent, and allied to all of them, than to be
rightly included within any one.

Why is a knowledge of the atmosphere important to the
naturalist?

Because it serves to throw much light on the history and
functions both of the animal and vegetable creation; for it is
through this great medium that heat, light, electricity,
oxygen, and the great springs of vital phenomena, are conveyed
to all classes of organized matter. It is by means of this
wonderful agent, that we gain the theory of respiration in all
classes of creatures possessing animal life; and that we become
acquainted with the migrations of animals, as well as many of
their peculiar instincts and habits. It is the atmosphere that
enables us to account for the periodical changes in the plumage
of birds and the furs of animals, and the variety of colours to
be found amongst them. By means also of the elasticity of the
atmosphere, sounds and odours are transmitted to sensitive
beings. Atmospherical phenomena, it may be safely inferred,
attracted the observation of mankind in the earliest ages: we
know that the Egyptians and the Greeks wrote upon the subject;
the Jews too, a pastoral people, “could discern the face of the
sky;” and even in our day, shepherds may be ranked among the
weather-wise. “This is a fine morning, a soft day, or a cold
evening,” are modes of salutation with us, as commonly as is
the “Salem Alikem” (Peace be with you!) amongst the inhabitants
of the more serene countries of the East. Shenstone says,
though with nearly equal spleen and truth: “there is nothing
more universally commended than a fine day: the reason is, that
people can commend it without envy.”

Why do we call the atmosphere a fluid?

Because it has a tendency to move in all directions, and
consequently rushes in and fills every space not previously
occupied by a more solid substance. Hence we find, that every
cave, crevice, place, and vessel, having communication with the
atmosphere, if it be not filled with something else, is filled
with air; against which it is no argument that we do not see
it, as it is perfectly transparent, and consequently
invisible.

Why do birds fly?

Because of the inertia of the atmosphere, which gives effect
to their wings. Were it possible for a bird to live without
respiration, and in a space void of air, it would no longer
have the power of flight. The plumage of the wings being
spread, and acting with a broad surface on the atmosphere
beneath them, is resisted by the inertia of the atmosphere, so
that the air forms a falcrum, as it
[pg 135] were, on which the bird
rises, by the leverage of its wings.

Why is air generally considered to be invisible?

Because, though a coloured fluid, and naturally blue, its
colour acquires intensity only, or, in other words, becomes
visible only, from the depth of the transparent mass. According
to rigid Newtonians, air is transparent, or, rather, invisible;
and the azure colour of the atmosphere arises from the greater
refrangibility of the blue rays of light. Other philosophers
imagine that the blue tint is inherent in air; that is, that
the particles of air have the property of producing a blue
colour, in their combination with light.

Why are the most distant objects in a prospect of a blue
tinge?

Because their colours are always tinted by the deepening
hues of the interjacent atmosphere. Again, the blending of the
atmospheric azure with the colours of the solar rays, produces
those compound and sometimes remarkable tints, with which the
sky and clouds are emblazoned. Hence, the mountains appear
blue, not because that is their colour, but because it is the
colour of the medium through which they are seen.

Why do the Heavens appear blue?

Because of our looking at the dark vacuity beyond our
atmosphere through an illuminated medium. Were there no
atmosphere, it is universally admitted the appearance would be
perfectly black, except in the particular direction of the sun,
or some other of the heavenly bodies, and since the atmosphere
is transparent, this blackness (if such an expression may be
used) must be seen through it, only somewhat modified by the
rays of light reflected by the atmosphere to the eye, from the
direction in which we look. For this reason, the clearer or
more transparent the atmosphere is, the darker is the
appearance of the heavens, there being then less light
reflected by the atmosphere to the eye. In the zenith, the
appearance is always darker than nearer the horizon; and from
the tops of high mountains, the heavens in the zenith appear
nearly black.—Mr. B. Hallowell, in the American
Journal of Science and Arts.

Why does the heat of temperature of different parts of
the earth vary?

Because of the position of the place with respect to the
equator, or rather to the ecliptic, or, more strictly still,
with respect to the plane in which the earth revolves around
the sun; for on this relation depends the temperature of the
place, so far as it is produced, directly, by the influence of
the sun. Maltebrun ascribes to it the following influences: 1,
the action of the sun upon the atmosphere: 2, the interior
temperature of the globe: 3, the elevation of the earth above
the level of the ocean: 4, the general inclination of the
surface, and its local exposure: 5, the position of its
mountains relatively to the cardinal points: 6, the
neighbourhood of great seas, and their relative situation: 7,
the geological nature of the soil: 8, the degree of
cultivation, and of population, at which a country has arrived:
9, the prevalent winds.

Why are the strata of air upon all mountains of
successive coldness?

Because the air does not acquire immediately, by the passage
of the solar rays, a considerable degree of heat. Thus, with
the elevation of land, cold may be said to increase in very
rapid progression. Winter continues to reign on the Alps and
the Pyrenees, while the flowers of spring are covering the
plains of northern France. This beneficent appointment of
Nature considerably increases the number of habitable countries
in the torrid zone. It is probable, that at the back of the
flat burning coasts of Guinea, there exist in the centre of
Africa, countries which enjoy a delightful temperature; as we
see the vernal valley of Quito, situate under the same latitude
with the destructive coasts of French Guyana, where the humid
heat constantly cherishes the seeds of disease. On the other
hand, it is the continued elevation of the ground, which, in
the central parts of Asia, extends the cold region to the 35th
parallel of latitude, so that in ascending from Bengal to
Thibet, we imagine ourselves in a few days transported from the
equator to the pole.—Maltebrun.

Why does the destruction of forests sometimes prove
beneficial to a country?

Because a freer circulation of air is thus
procured—but carried too far, it becomes a scourge which
may desolate whole regions. We have a sad example of this in
the Cape de Verde islands, not to mention others. It is the
destruction of forests, and not a supposed cooling of the
globe, which has rendered the southern part of Iceland more
accessible to the dreadful cold which is too often produced by
those masses of floating ice which are intercepted and detained
by its northern coasts.—Ibid.

Why do mountains influence climates?

Because, although they cannot prevent the general motions of
the atmosphere from taking place, they may, by stopping them in
part, render particular winds more or less frequent throughout
a certain extent of country. Maltebrun observes, there cannot
be a doubt that the Alps contribute in securing to Italy its
delightful and happy climate, its perpetual spring, and its
double harvests.

The Naturalist.

THE TOAD FISH.

[We quote these interesting details from a paper on the
Sargasso Weed, or gulf weed, with which a certain part of
the Atlantic [pg 136] Ocean is generally
covered, and amongst which Toad Fish are found. The
reason of the weed accumulating has given rise to much
difference of opinion, which is the main subject of the
above communication, by Mr. Benet, of Bulstrode-street,
to the Naval Magazine⁵]

Toad Fish

The figure represents one of those fishes to which, on
account of their uncouth appearance, the name of Toad Fish has
been popularly given. Under this denomination there have been
included many very dissimilar kinds, extreme ugliness being
held as alone sufficient for the establishment of an undeniable
claim to the title. The present fish, and those nearly related
to it, advance, however, peculiar claims to the appellation.
Their belly and side fins are borne upon supports which project
from the body in the semblance of limbs, their similarity to
which is increased by the jointed form they acquire at the
point of union of the fin with its support, and still farther
by the finger-like appearance of the rays of these fins, which
are unconnected by membrane at their tips. This curious
structure imparts to these fishes not only somewhat of the
outward form of a quadruped, but also a portion of its habits,
and they are, accordingly, capable of crawling like toads among
the sea-weeds and rocks which they usually inhabit; the side
fins, which are placed farther back than those of the belly,
performing on each occasion the functions of hinder feet. Nor
is this mode of locomotion confined to the water alone; it may,
also, be exercised by them on land, for their gill-openings are
so small, that evaporation takes place but slowly from within
them, and thus the gills are kept moistened, and the
circulation of the blood is preserved, even out of the water,
for two or three days. So remarkable a deviation from the usual
appearance and habits of the class to which they belong, has
naturally caused them to be regarded as objects of curiosity;
and it is recorded, that living specimens have been
successfully transported from the East to Holland, where they
have been sold at considerable prices.

The fishes of this genus, to which Commerson gave the name
of Antennarius, (on account of the filament which they possess
on the forehead,) are met with in the sea of warm climates, in
the east as well as in the west. They subsist chiefly on small
crabs, to surprise which they hide themselves among the
sea-weed, or behind stones. Their flesh is said not to be
edible; it may, perhaps, have been rejected, on account of
their disgusting appearance, and is certainly too small in
quantity to allow of its being important as an article of food.
In swimming, they usually gulp down air, and, thus distending
their capacious stomachs, enlarge themselves into a rounded
half-floating mass, much in the same manner as the globe of
balloon fishes. Their nearest affinity is to the fishes known
as anglers, with which they agree in the form of their
gill-openings and fins, and in the possession of filaments on
the head; but the monstrously disproportioned head of the
anglers, which is depressed from above downwards, and the
enormous opening of their mouth, readily distinguish them from
the Toad Fishes, whose head is of moderate size, and, like
their bodies, compressed laterally. They are either smooth or
variously hairy or bristly, and are always destitute of the
regular scales with which fishes are generally invested. They
are furnished, especially on the lips and the under parts, with
numerous short, loose [pg 137] processes of skin, which
add considerably to their sense of touch. There is great
variety in the different kinds in the length of the filament
on the head, and its termination is still more varied; in
some it is almost simple, as though formed of a single
undilated hair; in others, it is surmounted by a small,
dense, globular mass of short filaments; and in others
again, it has two, or even three large fleshy processes at
its end, not unlike the baits which terminate the fishing
filaments of the anglers.

In the species figured, the Antennarius Iaevigatus, the skin
is smooth, and furnished with short loose processes; the
filament on the head is short, and terminated by a small knob
of clustered minute filaments; this is succeeded by two other
processes, each resembling a fin supported by a single ray, and
fringed, especially towards its upper part, by loose portions
of skin; to these succeed the back fin, supported, as usual, by
many rays. The colour is pale, irregularly blotched, spotted,
and streaked with brown, the markings varying considerably in
different individuals; it is also dotted irregularly with
white. By these characters it may be known from the other
species of the genus, with which it appears to have been
associated by Linnaeus, under the common name of Lophius
Histrio. It was first scientifically distinguished by M. Bosc,
a French naturalist, who observed it, on his voyage to America,
among the Sargasso weed: he described and figured it, not
without some imperfections, in the Nouveau Dictionnaire
d’Histoire Naturelle. It has since been figured, but not
described, by Dr. Mitchell in the Transactions of the New York
Society; and one very nearly resembling it has been described
by Mr. Bennett with a figure, in the Geological Journal. The
genus to which it belongs is most completely treated of by M.
Cuvier, in the Memoires du Museum d’Histoire Naturelle.

Select Biography

Cuvier

Cuvier, the great naturalist, paid the debt of nature in May
last, after a life devoted to science with an unwearied
application and a success exceeded by none in modern times. He
was born at Montbelliard in 1769, a year which gave to so many
remarkable men—a Napoleon—a Chateaubriand—a
Wellington—a Humboldt, &c. and his first discoveries
were on the Mollusca, and shook to its base the zoological
classification which then universally prevailed.

Invited to Paris to fill the place of Professor of
Comparative Anatomy at the Jardin des Plantes, his
lectures speedily drew crowds around him, attracted by his
popular eloquence and lucid arrangement. His next work,
Lecons d’Anatomie Comparee, 1805, was rewarded by the
Institute with the decennial prize for the work which had
contributed the most to our knowledge of the Natural Sciences
during that period. At the same period he published a series of
Memoirs on the Anatomy of the Mollusca, and devoted his
attention to a detailed examination of the fossil remains of
the bones of mammiferous animals; he particularly examined the
numerous fossils in the environs of Paris, assisted in the
geological part of his task by his friend M. A. Brogniart. The
sagacity and accuracy which M. Cuvier displayed in the
examination of fossil bones, raised this branch of inquiry to
the dignity of a perfectly new science, which has thrown a
powerful light on geology, and directed it into a more
philosophical route. A number of works and of elaborate memoirs
published since by various naturalists, have shown the
prodigious influence which the labours of Cuvier have exercised
on the study of geology, of the animal kingdom, and even of
fossil botany. M. Cuvier amused himself during these laborious
works by particular researches which would alone have been
sufficient to have distinguished any other man, such as his
five Memoirs on the Voice of Birds, on Crocodiles, and on
numerous subjects of zoology; such also as his descriptions of
the living animals in the menagerie, &c. In all his works,
even to the minutest details, we discover the same luminous,
clear, and methodical mind, and the sagacity which
characterized him. Feeling the want of a work which should
present a general view of his ideas on zoological
classification, he published in 1817 his work entitled Le
Regne Animal distribue d’après son Organisation, in
4 vols, 8vo. which speedily became the text-book of all
zoological students. When employed on this work he felt how far
in arrear of the other branches of zoology was that which
respects the class of fish, and saw how much difficulty had
accumulated in it, as well from our ignorance of the anatomy of
these animals, and the impossibility of determining with
precision the laws of their comparative organization, as from
the want of large collections, and perhaps also from the too
artificial spirit which had hitherto prevailed in ichthyology.
He employed his influence to form a collection in the Paris
Museum of specimens of fish from all parts of the world, and
was so successful in [pg 138] his endeavours that the
number of specimens which at first scarcely amounted to
1,000, in a few years amounted to 6,000. Of these he
dissected a large portion with a care hitherto unknown,
having the advantage of an able associate in the study of
the details in M. Valenciennes; he was thus enabled in a
period of time that may be called short, looking to the
extent of the results, to collect the materials of his great
Histoire Naturelle des Poissons, of which eight
volumes have appeared, with their appropriate plates, and
for the continuation of which we have to look to his
laborious assistant. The recent embarrassment among the
Paris publishers having occasioned a stoppage in the
progress of this work, M. Cuvier availed himself of this (as
the part prepared for the press was already in advance of
the printer) to make preparations for republishing his
Lecons d’Anotomie Comparee, of which a second edition
had been long anxiously called for. This design, however, he
was not permitted to complete; but it is to be hoped that we
shall not be long deprived of the edition he had
contemplated, and that it will be accompanied with those
beautiful and accurate plates on which he had bestowed so
much pains, and in the execution of which he himself
excelled; for he was a skilful draftsman, and seized
external forms with rapidity and accuracy, and possessed the
art of representing in his drawings the forms of organic
tissues in a style peculiar to himself. His last course of
lectures, on the History of the Natural Sciences, and on the
Philosophy of Natural History, delivered at the College of
France, is now publishing in livraisons, and will extend to
three or four vols, 8vo. This work, however, we believe, has
been published without his consent or revision. His memory
was prodigious, and he scarcely knew what it was to forget
anything. Although his great powers were more particularly
devoted to natural history, no part of science was a
stranger to him, and his taste for literature and works of
imagination was particularly refined and elegant. In his
Eloges of illustrious men, delivered in his capacity
of perpetual secretary of the Academy of Sciences, he always
displays the utmost impartiality and love of truth; he never
debased the dignity of science by any love of intrigue, and
displayed the utmost disinterestedness in his efforts to
promote science. The qualities of his heart were not less
estimable than those of his head, and he possessed the happy
art of inspiring his friends with an unalterable attachment.
His conversation was varied and animated, adapted by turns
to every subject, and he may truly be said to have been the
grace and ornament of society. We must not forget the great
services he rendered to public education as head of the
University; his Report on the State of Primary Education in
Holland is a lasting monument of his solicitude for the
education of the people, and all those who have observed his
conduct with regard to the higher branches of education,
know how constantly his influence was directed to favour
their progress and to remove obstacles. In other departments
of the civil service into which he was successively called,
as Master of Requests, Counsellor of State, President of the
Section of the Interior, Director of Protestant Worship,
(for he was an enlightened and liberal Protestant, and
watched over the interests of his co-religionists with
constant solicitude,) and at last as a Peer of
France—in all these he displayed the same superiority
of talent. The office of Censor of the Press, which was
offered to him, he, to his eternal honour, refused. Such was
the man whose loss the world has now to deplore: but the
mind that traced her age and history—in the wrecks of
ages dug from her bosom—will live for ever in his
works to enlighten and instruct mankind.—Foreign
Quarterly Review.

Cuvier is said to have died of a paralytic affection of the
oesophagus. His body was examined by several eminent
pathologists: his brain is stated to have presented a mass of
extraordinary volume, weighing three pounds thirteen and a half
ounces; a fact which will be treasured up by contemporary
phrenologists as evidence of Cuvier’s great intellectual
capabilities.

[Cuvier was Professor of Geology in the College of France.
The chair, vacant by his death, has just been filled by the
appointment of M. Elie Beaumont, celebrated for his
investigation of mountain formations.]

New Books

LEGENDS OF THE RHINE.

[These are three novel-sized volumes from the prolific
pen of Mr. Grattan, whose Highways and Byeways have
probably started off hundreds of scribbling tourists to the
Continent, much to the annoyance of the keepers of old
castles and other necromantic haunts. These Legends,
however, have little to do with the Rhine, which is perhaps
fortunate for their success, as most of the traditionary
stories of the romantic river have been dished up in as
many forms and fashions as French cooks are accustomed to
serve up eggs. A few of our Correspondents have tried their
taste, but we hope not the reader’s patience, in
Rhin-onomy; and Mr. Planché, moreover, has
wandered and sailed up and down the district, picking to
new van its mystic stories in every form common to our
literature. We have enjoyed every inch of the stream and
its banks, coloured after nature, in a panorama on paper,
to put [pg 139] into your pocket or
portmanteau; and just now Views on the Rhine are
publishing in sixpenny portions, and becoming as little
rare as Views on the Thames; till we may as well say
thick as leaves on the Rhine, as in Vallainbrosa.

Mr. Grattan’s Legends are stated to be freely adapted
from the literature of the countries where the scenes are
laid. They consist of some ten or dozen stories of untiring
length but too much for entire extract. For the sake of
some delightfully graphic writing we are induced to quote a
portion of one of the tales—The Curse of the Black
Lady, a legend of the twelfth century. The scene lies
in the Low Countries, and introduces an admirably-drawn
portrait of a knight of the period.]

The Castle of the Countess of Hainault at Mons was a
complete specimen of the splendid architecture of the twelfth
century, or that which is now called Gothic; pointed windows
abounding in coloured glass, unpolished marble, heavy wooden
doors, thickly studded with iron nails, leading into immense
corridors, interminable passages, and branching staircases.

It was early in a morning of the month of February, that the
horn of a knight was heard beyond the castle wall, and
immediately replied to by the warder; and when the draw-bridge
was slowly replaced and the portcullis heavily withdrawn, a
knight followed by a squire, whose surcoat bore the Flander’s
lion, entered. The cap of the knight was of black velvet, and
slight bars of steel, bent into the form of a semicircle,
crossed each other at the top of his head and served at once
for defence and for ornament. His boots of thick leather
reaching almost to the knees bespoke him an inhabitant of a
maritime country, having spurs formed of a single point of
iron, long and obtuse, and these being gilt would have
announced the wearer’s rank in chivalry, even if his whole
equipment and bearing had not proclaimed his right to the
deference with which he was received. As he dismounted from his
horse, he threw off the large mantle, not unlike the military
cloaks of our days, and discovered the knightly armour, which
showed to peculiar advantage his powerful limbs. A straight
black tunic without sleeves descended to his knees. It was
fastened by a silver girdle, from which depended on one side a
strong sword, and on the other a dagger, the richly wrought
handle of which seemed to declare it of Turkish make. His arms
and hands were covered with a steel tissue, sitting close and
so flexible that it yielded lightly to every motion. The squire
who followed him was old, and a certain familiarity was mingled
with the respect of his manner, and seemed to declare that he
had been long accustomed to his master. In truth he had served
the father of our knight, and the latter had grown up beneath
his attendance, which had not unfrequently become his
protection. His armour, far from adorning his person, scarcely
left a human figure visible beneath its heavy plates of iron,
fastened by nails whose monstrous heads seemed cast in the same
mould with those which strengthened the heavy oak doors of the
palace. His helmet seemed the section of a water-pipe of cast
iron. Visor it had none; but in its place was a plate or bar of
iron descending from the forehead to the chin, almost touching
the nose and mouth, and he had a group of arms suspended from
his saddle. It was Sir Guy de Dampierre and his squire.

The seneschal conducted them with much ceremony to the
knight’s apartments in the castle, where a small table placed
by the side of an enormous log-fire in the middle of the room,
and plentifully furnished with cold salted and dried meats,
together with the thin wines of France, and the more potent
juice of the German grape, soon made him forget the cold and
thirst he had endured in the forest. The beer he quaffed with
peculiar pleasure, as it invitingly foamed in a silver tankard,
which had been thickly embossed by the abbot of Wansfort, and
presented by him to the Emperor Baldwin previous to his
embarkation for the Holy Land.

Having praised the flavour of the beer and helped himself to
some slices from a well cured wild boar’s head, he said to the
chamberlain, “And Baldwin of Avesnes is not yet arrived, you
say?”

“No, Count,” replied the chamberlain; “we expected he would
be with you.”

“Why, my road lay through Namur, and he comes directly from
Bruges. I marvel therefore he be not arrived—and I have
news for him,” said the knight.

[The next page includes a passing notice of the
introduction of chimneys into England, referable,
though not without dispute, to this date:—]

The warder’s horn was again heard; and after due time the
person in question made his appearance. He looked harassed and
fatigued, and gladly took the seat Count Guy pointed to, close
by his own, and having stirred the logs which burned lazily in
the huge hearth, he observed, “Methinks the wood emits this
sulphureous vapour more strongly than ever. I marvel, Guy, that
you have not repaid the compliment of the English king’s
invitation to your weavers, by bringing over workmen to build
you some of those long narrow passages which, beginning just
over the fire, project from the top of the house to carry off
the smoke.”

“What mean you, Baldwin?”

“Nay, have you not heard that in England they are beginning
to build along the end of the rooms, lodges or troughs to
contain the fuel, on the base of which they raise a brick
funnel, through which all the smoke mounts
[pg 140] and so evaporates at the
top of the house?” replied Baldwin.

“Think you then, d’Avesnes, that the whole room can be
warmed with the fire at one end of it, particularly if the
smoke be carried out?”

“Indeed they say,” replied d’Avesnes, “it casts a strong
heat everywhere.”

[“The Black Lady” is thus characterised:—”They
speak of her as one entirely destitute of natural
sensibility; they hint at some dark practices, and they
designate her so frequently by the epithet of the ‘Black
Lady,’ that many, both in Hainault and Flanders, are
ignorant that this is not really her title.” Here follows a
whole-length portrait of this specimen of black-letter
majesty.]

In the tapestried room into which the brothers were
conducted, sat the Black Lady of Brabant on a throne elevated
considerably above the floor. The dais was covered with the
same rich tapestry as the hangings which covered the walls, for
even in this early age Bruges was celebrated for such
manufactures. The draperies of the throne were of purple velvet
fringed with gold, with a canopy and curtains of the same rich
materials, the latter being looped back with a massive cord and
tassels. The constable supported one side of the throne, and
the seneschal the other. Below these were the cup-bearer and
grand huntsman. Six pages were placed about the steps of the
throne, and the same number of ladies in waiting were also
there. Yet Marguerite herself wanted not the surrounding
magnificence to mark her superior dignity of “Countess by the
grace of God,” then accorded to only one county besides her
own; for there was a sort of fearful majesty about her towering
height, unbowed either by the weight of years (and she had
already passed what the Psalmist has declared to be the age of
man) or luxurious indulgence. Her face was pale and marked by
deep furrows, indicating an unlimited indulgence of the strong
passions which had rendered her life so unquiet. Her eye was
black, and retained all the fire of lively feeling, yet it was
sunken. Her forehead was low, yet there was an inflexibility of
resolve in its deep lines that added much to the majestic
character of her appearance. Her teeth too were perfect, and
her thin and colourless lips left them visible to attract the
painful admiration excited by their contrast with the unlovely
expression of her features; her chin was small. Her hair was
all drawn from her face to the crown of her head and concealed
under the black lace veil, which concealing the upper part of
her forehead, fell over each shoulder even to her feet. Her
upper garment was a long mantle of black velvet lined with
ermine, which, opening in front, fell over the arms of her
throne, and discovered a dress of crimson cloth of Bruges of
that beautiful sort called ecarlate. The boddice was
drawn tightly to her shape by rich gold cord, the ends of
which, finished by heavy tassels, fell downwards to the edge of
her robe. The crimson tunic reached only to her knees, and
discovered an under dress of white Syrian silk, on which was a
border of gold, evidently of oriental workmanship. Her hard
bust was covered by many rows of the finest Asiatic pearls, and
depending from her girdle was a rosary of jet, which sustained
a richly embossed golden cross, probably enshrining a piece of
wood of the true cross from Palestine. The small gold crown
which circled her brows, and the sceptre she held, were
evidently made by the same skilful artist—probably the
work of the celebrated Erembert, Abbot of Wansfort. Her arms,
which notwithstanding her towering statue were
disproportionably long, were covered by sleeves of the finest
Bruges linen, which however only appeared at the shoulders and
elbows, the rest of the arm being covered with the crimson
cloth which formed the tunic, and these were laced with gold
cord down to the waist, where the Bruges linen formed a cuff.
Her form was harsh and bony, and no grace of motion relieved
its outlines; for she was so fearfully still, you might have
thought the living form had been placed in sight of the
Gorgon’s head and so transformed to stone. Her features seemed
alike immovable, all sunk into a dark, fixed, and settled
discontent with life.

THE BRITISH MUSEUM.

[This is the seventeenth volume of the Library of
Entertaining Knowledge; and, like the majority of its
predecessors, it aims at rendering popular, and of obvious
interest, subjects which had hitherto been abstruse and
uninviting. It is the first of a series of volumes to be
published on the Antiquities of the British Museum, so as
in some measure to set them free from their national
imprisonment; for such we must term any assemblage of works
of art (the property of the country), which are not
unconditionally open to public inspection.

The portion before us is the first of two volumes
devoted to the Egyptian Antiquities in the Museum. It has
been diligently compiled; and rendered more interesting
than would be a bare account of what the Museum contains,
by correct notices generally “of the history of art among
the Egyptians.” The best authorities have been consulted
and acknowledged, as Hamilton, Heeren, Gau, and Belzoni,
and the more recent labours of Mr. James Burton. The whole
is attractively arranged in chapters; on the Physical
Character of Egypt; Political Sketch of Ancient Egypt, and
the monuments of the respective divisions of the country.
We subjoin [pg 141] an extract, containing
a graphic outline of Thebes:]

We pass by Kennéh, on the east bank, from which
travellers may go to Cosseir to embark on the Red Sea; we
hasten by the remains of Kouft, the ancient Coptos, and the
solitary propylon of Kous, standing alone without its
temple,—to the plain of Thebes, to the most wonderful
assemblage of ruins on the face of the earth.

All travellers agree that it is impossible to describe the
effect produced by the colossal remains of this ancient
capital; nor does it lie within our plan to attempt this
description at present any farther than is necessary to make
our readers acquainted with the general character and
localities of the existing temples of Egypt.

No knowledge of antiquity, no long-cherished associations,
no searching after something to admire, is necessary here. The
wonders of Thebes rise before the astonished spectator like the
creations of some superior power. “It appeared to me,” says
Belzoni, “like entering a city of giants, who, after a long
conflict, were all destroyed, leaving the ruins of their
various temples as the only proofs of their former existence.”
Denon’s description of the first view of Thebes by the French
army, which he accompanied in the expedition into Upper Egypt,
is singularly characteristic. “On turning the point of a chain
of mountains which forms a kind of promontory, we saw all at
once ancient Thebes in its full extent—that Thebes whose
magnitude has been pictured to us by a single word in Homer,
hundred-gated, a poetical and unmeaning expression which
has been so confidently repeated ever since. This city,
described in a few pages dictated to Herodotus by Egyptian
priests, which succeeding authors have copied—renowned
for numerous kings, who, through their wisdom, have been
elevated to the rank of gods; for laws which have been revered
without being known; for sciences which have been confided to
proud and mysterious inscriptions, wise and earliest monuments
of the arts which time has respected;—this sanctuary,
abandoned, desolated through barbarism, and surrendered to the
desert from which it was won; this city, shrouded in the veil
of mystery by which even colossi are magnified: this remote
city, which imagination has only caught a glimpse of through
the darkness of time,—was still so gigantic an
apparition, that at the site of its scattered ruins, the army
halted of its own accord, and the soldiers, with one
spontaneous movement, clapped their hands.” It is, however,
rather unfortunate for Denon’s description, that another
traveller denies that there is such an approach to Thebes as is
mentioned in the extract, and he assures us that the ruins
cannot be seen till the traveller comes near them; and further,
that to produce such astonishing effects as the Frenchman
describes, we ought to be very near them or among
them. Without pretending to reconcile these contradictions, we
can readily believe that the ruins may produce a considerable
effect, even at some distance, if Denon’s drawings are at all
correct. As to the impression made by a near inspection of
these wonderful remains, there is no discrepancy among
travellers.

Thebes lay on each side of the river, and extended also on
both sides as far as the mountains. The tombs, which are on the
western side, reach even into the limits of the desert. Four
principal villages stand on the site of this ancient
city,—Luxor and Carnak on the eastern, Gournou and
Medinet-Abou on the western side. The temple of Luxor is very
near the river, and there is here a good ancient jettée,
well built of bricks. The entrance to this temple is through a
magnificent propylon, or gateway, facing the north, 200 feet in
front, and 57 feet high above the present level of the soil.
Before the gateway stand the two most perfect obelisks that
exist, formed, as usual, of the red granite of Syene, and each
about 80 feet high, and from 8 to 10 feet wide at the base.
Travellers differ in their estimate of the width of the base,
some, perhaps, taking the actual measure on the surface of the
soil while others may make allowance for that part that is
buried; for that the soil is much elevated will appear from
what follows: “Between these obelisks and the propylon are two
colossal statutes, also of red granite; from the difference of
the dresses it is judged that one was a male, the other a
female, figure;—they are nearly of equal sizes. Though
buried in the ground to the chest, they still measure 21 and 22
feet from thence to the top of the mitre.” Another cause of
discrepancy in the measurements may be, that the adjacent sides
of the obelisks are of different dimensions; which is generally
the case.

It is this gateway that is filled with those remarkable
sculptures, which represent the triumph of some ancient monarch
of Egypt over an Asiatic enemy, and which we find repeated,
both on other monuments of Thebes, and partly also on some of
the monuments of Nubia, as, for example, at Ipsambul. This
event appears to have formed an epoch in Egyptian history, and
to have furnished materials both for the historian and the
sculptor, like the war of Troy to the Grecian poet. The whole
length of this temple is about 800 feet.

But the remains of Carnak, about one mile and a quarter
lower down the river, are still more wonderful than Luxor: one
of the buildings is probably the temple of Ammon, which we know
from Diodoius was on this side of the river. An irregular
avenue of sphinxes, considerably more than a mile in length
[pg 142] (about 6,560 feet),
connected the northern entrance of the temple of Luxor with
it; but this was only one of several proud approaches to
perhaps the largest assemblage of buildings that ever was
erected. For a minute description of Carnak we must refer to
the plans in the great French work, and to Dr. Richardson’s
and Mr. Hamilton’s accounts. The irregularities in the
structure and approaches of this building show that the
various parts of it were raised at different periods, for
indeed it would have been impossible for any one sovereign
to have completed such a monument in his life-time; and we
know, also, that the great temple at Memphis received
numerous additions during a long succession of ages. Some
parts, both of this temple and of the larger building at
Carnak (sometimes called a palace), have been constructed
out of the materials of earlier buildings, as we see from
blocks of stone being occasionally placed with inverted
hieroglyphics. It is impossible without good drawings and
very long descriptions, to give anything like an adequate
idea of the enormous remains of Carnak, among which we find
a hall whose roof of flat stones is sustained by more than
130 pillars, some 26 feet, and others as much as 34 feet, in
circumference. The remains on the western side of the river
are, perhaps, more interesting than those on the east. That
nearly all the monuments of Thebes belong to a period
anterior to the Persian conquest, B.C. 525, and that among
them we must look for the oldest and most genuine specimens
of Egyptian art, is clear, both from the character of the
monuments themselves and from historical records; nor is
this conviction weakened by finding the name of Alexander
twice on part of the buildings at Carnak, which will prove
no more than that a chamber might have been added to the
temple and inscribed with his name; or that it was not
unusual for the priests to flatter conquerors or conquerors’
deputies by carving on stone the name of their new master.
Thebes was the centre of Egyptian power and commerce,
probably long before Memphis grew into importance, or before
the Delta was made suitable to the purposes of husbandry by
the cutting of canals and the raising of embankments.

[In a note to this passage, it is stated that “Herodotus
has given no description of Thebes. Denon several times
quotes Herodotus for what is not in that author. But this
is so common, even with people who have claims to
scholarship, that it has become almost a fashion to say
that any thing is in Herodotus.” So that the audience of
Lord Goderich with the late King, as described in the
Edinburgh Review, in the Herodotean (or says
he and says she) dialect, is no great
license.]

[The volume is profusely embellished.]

The Public Journals.

ERRORS OF THE DAY.

The devoutest believers in “the march of intellect” must at
intervals be almost driven to renounce their creed in despair.
Errors which were supposed to have been exploded centuries ago,
sometimes reappear on a sudden, and propagate themselves for a
season with a rapidity which no reasoning can pursue, no
ridicule arrest. Notions, worthy only of the dark ages, spring
up in the glare of the supposed illumination of the present
day, and resist all the efforts of the Briarean press itself to
dispel them. At one time, it is a pious Hungarian prince who
performs preternatural cures, at the request of the friends of
the sick parties in Ireland, conveyed through that droll medium
for a miracle, the Hamburg letter-bag! At another, it is an old
dropsical impostor, whom thousands of blaspheming dupes
venerate as a second virgin quick of a new Messiah! A short
time since animal magnetism was in vogue; and the strong will
of certain gifted individuals was believed to have the power of
entering into a mystical communication with the spirits of
others, and of absolutely controlling their whole physical and
mental being! To-day we are startled by the actual exhibition
of a miracle, the “unknown tongue,” on alternate Sundays, at
the Caledonian Chapel in Regent Square, London! If at any time
we are tempted to plume ourselves on the fact, that the belief
in ghosts and witchcraft has disappeared, we are quickly
humiliated by the recollection that there are yet thousands of
devout believers in the prophecies of Francis Moore, physician;
or by overhearing the rhapsodies of some millenarian dreamer,
who as confidently gives us the date of the opening of the New
Jerusalem as if he were speaking of the New London
Bridge.—Quarterly Review.

PUBLIC CREDIT.

It is physically impossible to carry on the commerce of the
civilized world by the aid of a purely metallic
currency—no, not though our gold and silver coins were
every tenth year debased to a tenth! Why, in London alone, five
millions of money are daily exchanged at the Clearing-house, in
the course of a few hours. We should like to see the attempt
made to bring this infinity of transactions to a settlement in
coined money. Credit money, in some shape or other, always has,
and must have, performed the part of a circulating medium to a
very considerable extent. And (by one of those wonderful
compensatory processes which so frequently claim the admiration
of every investigator of civil, as well as of physical economy)
there is in the nature of credit an elasticity which causes it,
when left unshackled by law, to adapt itself
[pg 143] to the necessities of
commerce, and the legitimate demands of the market. Well may
the productive classes exclaim to those who persist in
legislating on the subject, and are not content without
determining who may, and who may not, give credit to
another, what kind of monied obligations shall, or shall
not, be allowed to circulate—that is, to be taken in
exchange for goods at the option of the parties—well
might they exclaim, as the merchants of Paris did to the
minister of Louis, when he asked what his master could do
for them—”Laissez nous faire,”—”Leave us alone,
to surround ourselves with those precautions which
experience will suggest and the instinct of
self-preservation put in execution.”—Ibid.

HOARDING MONEY.

There can be no doubt too that “hoarding” coin goes
on to a considerable extent, and greatly augments the scarcity,
and consequently the value of the precious metals. Even the old
practice of “making a stocking” is by no means given up in
rural districts. We ourselves, but a few days back, personally
witnessed an old crone, the wife of a small, and apparently
poor farmer, in a wild pastoral district, bring no less than
three hundred sovereigns in a bag to a neighbouring attorney,
to be placed by him in security: her treasure having
accumulated till she was afraid to keep it longer at home. Such
examples are by no means so rare as may be imagined. The
failures of so many country banks in 1825 destroyed the
confidence of country people in the bank-notes of the present
banks, and causes their preference of gold. The failure of many
attorneys, as well as of those country banks which received and
gave interest on deposits, and (with the exception of the
savings banks, which are very limited in the amount of the
deposits they allow) the total absence, in the rural districts
of England, of any safe and accessible depositaries for the
savings of the economical, such as the invaluable Scotch banks,
have tended most injuriously to discourage economy; and where
that principle was strongly ingrafted, have converted it into a
practice of hoarding,—have caused that to stagnate in
unprofitable masses which, spread through proper channels,
would have stimulated new industry and new accumulations, and
added both to the wealth of the owner, and to the general
stock.—Ibid.

INVENTION OF PRINTING.

[Our Correspondent, W.M. of the Regent’s Park, should
read the following announcement, which supersedes the
necessity of printing his communication. At least, we do
not feel ourselves justified in doing so, without reference
to the undernamed German work.]

It is proposed to erect a monument in Mentz, by public
subscription and support of all nations, to Gutenberg, the
great inventor of the art of printing, and to celebrate the
immortal discovery in a grand and becoming style. The erection
is to take place in 1836, being the fourth centenary
anniversary of the great achievement, for it is capable of
historic proof that Gutenberg communicated his discovery of
movable letters to some friends at Strasburg in 1436, to which
city he had retired on account of some disturbances in his
native place: vide Schaab’s Geschichte der Erfinding der
Buchdruckerkunst, Mainz, 1831, 3 vols. 8vo. The
subscriptions and support, in particular, of printers,
booksellers, authors and literary bodies, is solicited. Kings
and princes, in behalf of the best interests of their subjects
and of civilization, it is hoped, will not be backward to
support so noble a design. The public will be informed, from
time to time, by means of the daily papers and journals, of the
progress of the subscription, for which the smallest sums will
be received, and the names of the donors entered in a book kept
by the Corporation of Mentz, to which all communications are
requested to be addressed.—Foreign Quarterly
Review.

GOETHE

A medal, in commemoration of Goethe, has been struck at
Berlin. On one side is the portrait of the deceased, by the
celebrated Leonard Posch, crowned with laurel, bearing the
inscription Jo. W. DE GOETHE NAT. XXVIII AUG. MDCCXXXXIX. The
likeness was taken a few years ago at Weimar, and has been
universally admired for its accuracy. On the reverse is
represented the Poet’s Apotheosis. A swan bears him on his
wings to the starry regions, that appear expanded above, and to
which the Poet, having a golden lyre in his left arm, extends
his right arm with longing gaze. On this side is the
inscription AD ASTRA REDIIT D. XXII MART.
MDCCCXXXIL—Ibid.

The Gatherer.

Wilkes’s Luckiest Number.—A rich farmer in
Devonshire made a will, in which the following article was
found:—”I bequeath to John Wilkes, late member of
parliament for Aylesbury, five thousand pounds sterling, as a
grateful return for the courage with which he defended the
liberty of his country, and opposed the dangerous progress of
arbitrary power.”

Owen’s Alms-houses, Islington, were founded by Dame
Alice Owen, in consequence of a providential escape. In the
fields, near this spot, in the reign of Queen Mary, the archers
frequently exercised with bows and arrows. Dame Owen walking
with her maid, [pg 144] and observing a woman
milking a cow, was desirous of trying to milk the cow
herself, which she did, when on leaving the cow, an arrow
pierced the crown of her hat, without doing her the least
injury. In gratitude for her escape, she built the school
and houses. For many years an arrow was fixed on the top of
them. SWAINE.

Origin of Tory.—Our friend, Mr. George Olaus
Borrow, who has devoted his attention specially to the Celtic
dialect, suggests that the long-disputed etymology of the word
Tory may be traced to the Irish adherents of Charles II.,
during the Cromwellian era. The words Tar a Ri
(pronounced Tory,) and meaning Come, O King,
having been so constantly in the mouths of the Royalists as to
have become a by-word to designate them. Mr. Borrow’s paper on
the subject has appeared in the Norfolk Chronicle.

Toast.—May the man who wins a woman’s heart
never be instrumental in breaking its peace.

Caught at last.—Sir Jervis Elwayes, lieutenant
of the Tower, being much addicted to gaming, used to say, in
his prayers, “Lord, let me hanged, if ever I play more.” He
broke this serious prayer a thousand times, and at last was
hanged on Tower Hill, in 1615, for the murder of Sir Thomas
Overbury.

Edward the Confessor took great delight in Haverley Bower,
in Essex, it being woody, solitary, and fit for devotion; but
it so abounded with warbling nightingales, that they disturbed
him in his devotions. He earnestly prayed for their absence,
since which time it is superstitiously said, never nightingale
was heard to sing in the park, though occasionally the warbler
is heard outside the pales.

Wages.—In 1352, (25th Edward III.) the wages
paid to haymakers was 1d. a-day; a mower of meadows,
3d. a-day, or 5d. an acre; reapers of corn in the
first week of August, 2d., in the second 3d. per
day, and so on till the end of August, without meat, drink, or
other allowance; finding their own tools. For threshing a
quarter of wheat or rye, 2-1/2d.; a quarter of barley,
beans, peas, and oats, 1-1/2d. A master carpenter,
3d. per day, other carpenters 2d. A master mason
4d. per day, other masons 3d., and their servants
1-1/2d. per day. Tilers 3d., and their “knaves”
1-1/2d. Thatchers 3d. a-day, and their knaves
1-1/2d. Plasterers, and other workers of mud walls and
their knaves in like manner, without meat or drink, and this
from Easter to Michaelmas; and from that time less, according
to the direction of the justices. T. GILL.

Literary Quizzing.—Of all human quizzing,
ancient and modern, plebeian or patrician, nothing equals that
now in triumphant practice in the lists of literature. From
Zoilus to the penny newspapers, never has there been criticism,
penned or spoken, so bitterly pungent as some of the grave
laudatory articles, by which authors are now quizzed down to
zero in the popular reviews. Satan Montgomery is bantered with
the name of Isaiah; Miss Landon by a comparison with La
Rochefoucault; and Don Trueba, with Pigault le Brun. This is a
refinement in cruelty. It is twining the rack with flowers; and
hanging a man with a cord of gold. The sentence of the reviewer
should be “Yea, yea; and nay, nay!” A Barmecide’s feast of fame
is a supererogation of malice. We hold that all authors so
derided have a right to call upon their critics to make good
their words; and build up the visionary castles of their
Fata Morgana, (like London Bridge in the nursery song)
with “gravel and stone;” or rather, “with silver and gold.” A
heavy mulct should be imposed on literary
quizzing.—Tait’s Edinburgh Magazine.

Cross Readings, (from the
Spanish.)—Suddenly King Alphonso Riberro Fernando
rose from his couch, and sallying from his tent with fierce
looks and sword in hand—swore the total annihilation of
every bug in the Castiles.

And the king with great despatch, forthwith ordered a strong
body of cavalry, for—there was a mouse scratching behind
the wainscot.

So the queen, Mary, rising majestically from her throne,
with imperial, yet gentle look, exclaimed in a sweet
voice—”Scratch Poll’s head.”

There was a goodly array of gay knights following the king
to the hunt—the rats being numerous they afforded good
sport.

These specimens of Spanish satire came out in the form of
cross-readings, a few months after the death of Cervantes; they
were affirmed to be by that illustrious author; how truly so I
know not. R.N.

Cannon Clock.—In the gardens of the Palais
Royal and the Luxembourg, at Paris, is a specimen of this
contrivance invented by one Rousseau. A burning-glass is fixed
over the vent of a cannon, so that the sun’s rays, at the
moment of its passing the meridian, are concentrated by the
glass, on the priming, and the piece is fired. The
burning-glass is regulated, for this purpose, every month.

Footnote 1:
(return)

At Belvoir was formerly a priory of four black monks,
subordinate to the Abbey of St. Alban, in Hertfordshire, to
which it was annexed by its founder, Robert de Belvideir,
or De Todenci, in the time of William the Conqueror. It was
dedicated to St. Mary; and was valued, at the Dissolution,
at £104 19s. 10d. per annum. Dr.
Stukely, in the year 1726, saw the coffin and bones of the
founder, who died in 1088, dug up in the Priory chapel,
then a stable and on a stone was inscribed in large
letters, with lead cast in them, ROBERT DE TODENE LE
FVDEVR. Another coffin and cover near it was likewise
discovered with the following inscription:—”The Vale
of Bever, barren of wood, is large and very plentiful of
good corn and grass, and lieth in three shires, Leicester,
Lincoln, and much in Nottinghamshire.”

Footnote 2:
(return)

“The Lord Ros took Henry the VIth’s part against King
Edward, whereupon his lands were confiscated, and Belever
Castle given in keeping to Lord Hastings, who coming
thither on a time to peruse the ground, and to lie in the
castle, was suddenly repelled by Mr. Harrington, a man of
power thereabouts, and friend to the Lord Ros. Whereupon
the Lord Hastings came thither another time with a strong
power, and upon a raging will spoiled the castle, defacing
the roofs, and taking the leads off them.—Then fell
all the castle to ruins, and the timber of the roofs
uncovered, rotted away, and the soil between the walls at
the last grew full of elders, and no habitation was there
till that, of late days, the Earl of Rutland hath made it
fairer than ever it was.”—Leland.

Footnote 3:
(return)

As illustrative of the folly and superstition of the
times, it may be interesting to explain this. Joan Flower,
and her two daughters, who were servants at Belvoir Castle,
having been dismissed the family, in revenge, made use of
all the enchantments, spells, and charms, that were at that
time supposed to answer their malicious purposes. Henry,
the eldest son, died soon after their dismissal; but no
suspicion of witchcraft arose till five years after, when
the three women, who are said to have entered into a formal
contract with the devil, were accused of “murdering Henry
Lord Ros by witchcraft, and torturing the Lord Francis, his
brother, and Lady Catharine, his sister.” After various
examinations, before Francis Lord Willoughby, of Eresby,
and other magistrates, they were committed to Lincoln gaol.
Joan died at Ancaster, on her way thither, by wishing the
bread and butter she ate might choak her if guilty. The two
daughters were tried before Sir Henry Hobbert, Chief
Justice of the Common Pleas, and Sir Edward Bromley, one of
the Barons of Exchequer, confessed their guilt, and were
executed at Lincoln, March 11, 1618-19.]

Footnote 4:
(return)

“The great Marquess of Granby” born in 1721, was
the son of this duke. During the rebellion he raised a
regiment of foot. In 1758, being lieutenant-general, he was
sent into Germany, and eminently distinguished himself
under Prince Ferdinand of Brunswick. He died in 1770, and
was buried with his ancestors at Bottesford, where, a few
years since, there was no monumental record of his
name!

Footnote 5:
(return)

We are happy to perceive that the above journal rises in
interest and value as it proceeds; and merits all the
encouragement our notice of its first appearance may have
induced our readers to confer upon it.

Printed and published by J. LIMBIRD, 143, Strand, (near
Somerset House,) London; sold by ERNEST FLEISCHER, 626, New
Market, Leipsic; G.G. BENNIS, 55, Rue Neuve, St. Augustin,
Paris; and by all Newsmen and Booksellers.