of oil and coal burnt in various des- Yea e'en though abandon'd by hope's every

promise, criptions of lamps. How these pigmies would have hid their diminished Spurn’d by the rough wave, uncherislı’d, heads, could they have foreseen our It recks not the mansion in which my sad present perfection in lighting the at- home is, mosphere, by exciting attraction and Provided its hardships to you are unknown. motion among the constituent particles

N. of light and heat. The aerometer of New York, at a trifling expense, produces a light in the atmosphere equal

VARIETIES. to the brightest moon-shine. So that darkness is unknown to the moderns, and we experience only the gradations THE DUKẾ OF NIVERNOIS. " between the light of the moon and that of the sun.

When this Nobleman was Ambassador in England, he was going down to Lord Townshend's seat in Norfolk,

on a private visit, quite in dishabille, Poctry.

and with only one servant, when he was obliged, from a heavy shower of

of rain, to stop at a farm-house in the FRIENDSHIP'S PARTING.

way. The master of the house was a Ye friends of my bosom, how oft has my clergyman, who, to a poor curacy, fond heart,

added the care of a few scholars in the Beat at your breathings and lept at your neighbourhood, which, in all, might

smiles ; Oft in the dreams of my soul have I pon- which was all he had to maintain a wife

make his living about 801. a year,

and der'd, On friendship like yours, when I've slum- and six children. When the Duke ber'd the while.

alighted the clergyman not knowing his Cast in the depths of life's dark-heaving rank begged him to come in and dry himocean,

self, which the other accepted by borrowCircled with wretchedness, horror and care; ing a pair of old worsted stockings and Still 'midst the clouds of each low'ring slippers of him, and warming himself

commotion, I feed on your fond glance, and laugh at by a good fire. After some conversadespair.

tion, the Duke observed an old chessMay the double-edg'd darts of a tongue

board hanging up; and as he was pasloving slander,

sionately fond of that game, he asked Ne'er poison those kind hearts, so warm the clergyman whether he could play. and so true ;

The other told him he could pretty And oh! while the wilds of existence I wander,

tolerably; but found it very diffeult, My hope and my heart shall still linger in that part of the country, to get an

antagonist. “ I am your man," says And though far from the land of my birth the Duke.--"With all my heart," says many a day,

the parson ;- "And if you'll stay and I should journey unfriended; still destin'd eat pot-luck, I'll try if I can't beat to roam ;

The day continuing rainy, the I shall think of your love, and forget not Duke accepted his offer ; when the * Ever sweet be your rest, ever hallow'd parson played so much better, that he your home."

with you.


won every game. This was so far trom

to pray


fretting the Duke, that he was highly“ belong to an office, where I am pleased to meet a man who could give obliged to attend every day, the him such entertainment at hisfavourite “ complaints I have prove very trougame. He accordingly inquired into “ blesome to me, and I should be the state of his family affairs,—and" glad to remove them."--The Doctor just taking a memorandum of his ad- laid down his paper, and regarded his dress, without discovering his title, patient with a steady evė, while he thanked him, and departed. Some proceeded: “ I have but little appetite, months passed over, and the clergy-1 and digest what I eat very poorly:man never thought any thing of the I have a strange swimming in my matter; when, one evening, a footman head,” &c. In short, after giving the in laced livery rode up to the door, Doctor a full quarter of an hour's deand presented him with the following tail of all his symptoms, he concluded

the state of his case with a direct

quesThe Duke of Nivernois' compli- tion Präy, Doctor, what shall i ments wait on the Rev. Mr. “ take ?" The Doctor, in the act and, as a remembrance for the good

of resuming


newspaper, gave him * drubbing he gave him at chess, begs the following laconic prescription :" that he will accept the living of Take ; why, take advice. se worth 400l. per annum, and that he ** will wait on bis Grace the Duke of

NOTICES * Newcastle on Friday next, to thank

TO CORRESPONDENTS. " him for the same."— The good

We will insert with pleasure the comparson was sometime before he could

munication that Juvenis has sent, which we imagine it any thing more than a jest, think highly of and was not for going ; but as his

“ The lass wi' the bonnie blue e'e" is wife insisted on his trying, he came up not fit for the Melange. to town, and found the contents of the billet literally true, to his unspeakable friend Agrestis.

Our best thanks are due to our lively Batisfaction.


Every Wednesday, by stances, whose health was on the de- WILLIAM TAIT, & Co. cline, findingthat an ingenious physician

Lyceum Court, Nelson Street, occasionally dropped into a coffee-house

Where Communications, post paid, may that he frequented, not very remote be addressed to the Editor: from Lincoln’s-Inn, always placed Sold also by Mr. Griffin, Public Library: himself vis-a-vis the Doctor, in the Hutcheson St; at the Shops of the Princisame box, and made many indirect pal Booksellers, Glasgow.. efforts to withdraw the Doctor's atten

ALSO OF THE FOLLOWING BOOKSELLERS : tion from the newspaper to examine Messrs. Hunter, 23, South Hanover Street, thé index of his constitution. He at Edinburgh; John Hislop, Greenock ; last ventured a bold push at once, in John Dick, Ayr; Thomas Dick, Paisley ; the following terms :“ Doctor," said Robert Mathie

, Kilmarnock ; Makrolm

Currie, Port-Glasgow;'D. Conde, Rothehê, “ I have, for a long time been

say; James Thomson, Hamilton; and M. “ very far from being well

, and as I Dick, Irvine, for ready. money only





No. 12. WEDNESDAY, 4th SEPT. 1822. Price 3d

SOCIETY IN LONDON. of society may, perhaps, turn up again It often happens, that although in- the same numbers. Not that it is to dividuals may exist in a society, endow. be inferred that you may not barely see ed with every power of entertaining the same features again; it is possible and enlightening, yet the forms of so- that you may catch a glimpse of them ciety may be such that it is very diffi- on the other side of St. James's Street; cult to obtain the full advantage of or see them near you at a crowded their superior qualities. This difi- rout, without a possibility of approachculty is the misfortune of London, ing. Hence it is, that those who live where there are more men of cultivated in London are totally indifferent to understanding, of refined wit, of liter- one another; the waves follow so quick ary and political eminence, than in any that any vacancy is immediately killed metropolis of Europe ; yet it is so up, and the want is not perceived. contrived, that there is little freedom, At the same time, the well-bred civilittle intimacy, and little ease in Lon. lity of modern times, and the example don society. “ To love some persons of some“ very popular people," have very much, and see oftea those that I introduced a shaking of hands, a prelove," says the old Duchess of Marl- tended warmth, a sham cordiality, inborough, “ is the greatest happiness to the manners of the cold and warm I can enjoy." But in London it is alike-the dear friend, and the acequally difficult to get any body to quaintance of yesterday. Hence we love very much, or to see those often hear continually of such conversations we have loved before. There are such as the

following :-"Ah! how d'ye mumbers of acquaintances, such a suc- do? I'm delighted to see you! How cession of engagements, that the town is Mrs. M- ?"_She is very well resembles Vauxhall, where the dearest I thank you.

“ Has she any more friends may walk round and round all children ?"-Any more! I have only night without ever meeting. If you been married three months. I see see at dinner a person whose manners you are talking of my former wife and conversation please you, you may she has been dead these three years. wish in vain to become more intīmate; Op “ My dear friend how d’ye do for the chance“ is, that you will not yoù have been out of town some time meet so as to converse, a second time, - where have you been-in Norfolk for three months, when the dice-box “ No, I have been two years in India."


Thus, ignorant of one another's in- the host and hostess are employed terest and occupations, the friendships during three parts of the dinner, in of London contain nothing more ten- doing the work of the servants, der than a visiting card, Nor is it helping fish, or carving large pieces much better,---indeed it is much worse, of venison to twenty hungry souls, if you renounce the world and deter to the total loss of the host's power mine to live only with your relations of amusement, and the entire disand nearest connections if you go figurement of the fair hostess's face. to see them at one o'clock they are Much time is also lost by the attention not ups at two the room is full

of in every one is obliged to pay, in order different acquaintance, who can talk to find out (which he can never do if over the ball of the night before, and he is short-sighted) what dishes are at of course are sooner listened to than the other end of the table ; and if a yourself; at three they are gone shop- guest wishes a glass of wine, he must ping; at four they are in the Park; peep through the Apollos and Cupids at five and at six they are out ; at of the plateau, in order to find some seven they are dressing ; at eight they one to drink with him; otherwise he are dining with two dozen friends; at must wait till some one asks him, nine and ten the same ; at eleven they which will probably happen in succesare dressing for the ball; and at twelve, sion; so that after

having had no wine when you are going to bed, they are for half an hour, he will have to drink gone into society for the evening. — five glasses in five minutes. ConvenThus you are left in solitude : you ience teaches that this last manner of soon begin again to try the world engaging society at dinner, is to leave let us see what it produces. every thing to servants that servants

The first inconvenience of a Lon- can do, so that you may have no furdon life, is the late hour of dinner.ther trouble, than to accept of the To pass the day nearly fasting, and dishes that are offered to you, and to then, to sit down to a great dinner at drink, at your own time, of the wines eight o'clock, is entirely against the that are handed round. An English first dictates of common sense and com-dinner, on the contrary, seems to premon stomachs. Some learned persons, sume before-hand on the silence, dula indeed, endeavour to support the prac-ness, and stupidity

of the guests, and tice by precedent, and quote the Ro- to have provided little interruptions, man supper ; but these - suppers were like the jerks which the chaplain gives at three o'clock in the afternoon, and to the archbishop, to prevent his gor ought to be a subject of contempt, in- ing to sleep during sermon.fb stead of imitation, in Grosvenor Square. Some time after dinner comes the Women

however, are not so irrational hour for going to a ball, or a rout; as men, in London, and generally sit but this is sooner said than done : it down to a substantial luncheon at often requires as much time to go from three or four : if men could do the St. James's Square to Cleveland Row, same, the meal at eight might be light- as from London to Houmslow. It ened of many of its mast weighty would require volumes to describe the dishes, and conversation would be no disappointment which occurs on ar. loser ; for it is not to be concealed, riving in the brilliant mob in a ballthat conversation suffers great inter- room. Sometimes, as it has been ruption from the manner in which before said, a friend is seen squcezed English dinners are managed. First like yourself, at another end of the room without a possibility of your become the elements of knowledge to communicating, except by signs; and the youth of the next. It is nearly us the whole arrangement of the society the reverse in conversation. The is regulated by mechanical pressure, anecdotes which form the buz of cand you may happen to be pushed against parties and dinner parties in one cen. those to whom you do not wish to tury, are, in the lapse of a hundred speak, whether bores, slight acquaint years, and sometimes less, transplanted ances, or determined enemies. Con, into quarto volumes, and go to in. fined by the crowd, știfled by the beat, crease the stock of leaming of the most and dazzled by the light, all powers of grave and studious persons in the main intellect are obscured ; wit loses its tion ; a story repeated by the Duchess point, and sagacity its observation; in- of Portsmouth's waiting wořñan to deed, the limbs are so crushed, and Lord Rochester's valet, forms a subthe tongue so parched, that, except ject of investigation for a philosophical particular undrest ladies, all are in historian ; and you may hear an asthe case of Dr. Clarke, who says, sembly of scholars and authors, discuss when in the plains of Syria, some might sing the validity of a piece of scandal blame him for not making moral re- invented by a maid of honour two Aestions on the state of the country; centuries ago, and repeated to an obbut that he must own the heat quite scure writer by Queen Elizabeth's deprived him of all power of thought, housekeeper.


Hence it is, that the conversation The appetite for remains of ! you hear around you, is generally no- kinds. has certainly increased of latie thing more than " Have you been to a most surprising extent! every here long?"- Have you been at thing which belongs to a great man is Mrs. H?" Are you going eagerly hunted out, and constantly to Lady Dr's?” But even if published. I Madame de Sevigne there are persons of a constitution ro- wrote some letters when sbe was half bust enough to talk, they yet do not asleep: if Dr. Johnson took the pains dare to do so, when twenty heads are of setting down what occurred to him forced into the compass of one square before he was breeched, this age is foot; nay even if, to your great de- sure to have the benefit of seeing these light, you see a person to whom you valuable works in hot-pressed paper : have much to say, and, by fair means all that good writers threw by as it or foul, elbows and toes, knees and perfect, all that they wished to be conskaulders, have got near them, they cealed from the world, is now edited often dismiss you with shaking you in volumes twice as magnificent as by the hand, and saying " My dear their chief works. Still greater is their Mr. how do you do?" and then avidity for ana ; it is a matter of the contibue a conversation with a person greatest interest to see the letters of whose ear is three inches nearer. At every busy trifler-yet who does not two or three o'clock, however, the laugh at such men? To Writo crowd diminishes; and if you are’not our relations and friends oü events tized by the five or six hours you al which concern their interests and afready have had, you may be very com- fections, is a worthy employment for fortable for the rest of the evening. the head and heart of a civilized man's *** It had beert-said very justly of sci- but to engrave upon the tittle tattle of ende, that the profound discoveries of the day, with all the labour and polish the greatest philosophers of one age which the richest gent could deserve,

« ElőzőTovább »