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peasant lips on village green-so that he retains the melody ere it is lost to him for ever. Of the right craft was Allan Cunningham, and it is a worthy tribute to the memory of so excellent and amiable a father, that his son has in this shape brought together all that

he could collect of remains so valuable.

Before quitting this very interesting volume, let us recommend the patient consideration of the modesty which so long a time shrouded its author from public observation, to the aspirant for worldly honoursworldly fame. It is a merit not very common in these high-pressure, progressive times. For the rest, very dull must that heart be, whose throbbings are not quickened by the perusal of many of these sweet songs.

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FROM the moment I set foot at Ostend, on Flemish soil, to the time of my departure from Waterloo, I had een nothing but a flat, level, though fertile, country. The scenery on the road to Namur, however, improves it every step. The banks of the Meuse are beautiful. After passing Sombreffe and Temploux, the road winds devious way through a most luxuriant valley, on one side of which may be seen the lovely river gliding on, kirting banks and rocks covered with vegetation in its ichest garb; and every now and then adorned with a picturesque chateau. There was one point in particular which reminded me of my old favourite ride from Bakewell to Matlock,-the same masses of ivy-covered rock, the same sort of trees growing in every occasional crevice, and the river below like a glittering snake, all bright in the glowing sunshine. There is a hill before Namur can be entered, which is very steep, and adds to the effect of the striking situation of the old town. There is a drawbridge and several very tortuous alleys, all which had to be crossed and traversed before I could reach the Hotel de Harscamp. I was astonished to see the number of cutlers' shops in one of the strange irregular streets, forgetting for the moment that I was in the Belgian Sheffield. If the knives that lay before us at the Hotel, and with which we attempted to cut our meat, when summoned to the early table-d'-hôte, were an example of the manufactory of steel, I may safely say my Yorkshire acquaintance need be under no sort of apprehension of being cut out. A lady who was determined to test the merits of some articles temptingly displayed in a large though low shop, was doomed to discover that she had made a bad bargain, for, out of three penknives, two were broken at the first trial. The chagrin of the fair purchaser appeared to be a source of much merriment to some mustachiod and whiskered gentleman to whom she was relating her mishap, and the grapes were swallowed between a grin and a laugh as he listened to the story of the fractured blades. As soon as I could leave the table I departed on a tour round the place. The church, or cathedral, as it is more properly called, is of very little interest. There is the tomb of the gallant Don John of Austria, who died near Namur, from the effects of poison, administered to him by the emissaries of his brother, Philip II. of Spain. An old tradition has asserted, that the reason of this very unbrotherly act was the belief of Philip, that Elizabeth of England would bestow her hand on the conquering hero of so many valorous days. However true it may be that Philip was influenced by such a motive for his brother's assassination, there do not exist any authentic data for supposing our English monarch ever contemplated such an alliance. The church of St. Loup is one mass of decorations, gildings, arabesques, quaint confessionals, coloured marbles, and carvings. Coming from the daylight it had a handsome appearance. The ceiling is elaborately chased in white stone,

and is stated to have been the unassisted work of a monk of the order of Jesus.

There was no necessity or wish to stay longer at Namur, especially as Liege was to be attained on the morrow; so, packing the baggage into the vigilante, which was to follow with the lady of the penknife and her friend, I set out with a dapper little Frenchman to walk part of the road by the Meuse. It was a fine afternoon, and the sun, pouring down his warmest rays, lit the whole route with a genial influence. My companion was in raptures, everything was couleur de rose, the air was so light and so bright, the river so cool, so deliciously captivating, the scenery so majestic, that in his phrases I began to think hyperbole was thoroughly exhausted. Nothing could or would arrest his exclamations, which were so constantly on the increase, that on arriving at a turn of the road, where the river was making an angle, as if to show how sportive Nature will be, a fresh series broke out with redoubled vigour, to such an extent, indeed, that I feared nothing but the waters of the Meuse could cool him. However, on we rambled till night and the vigilante overtook us at the door of a small hostelrie, where I was rash enough to taste a most horrible liqueur, called Absinthe, the remembrance of which clings to my palate yet, and which rhubarb, senna, or purgative draught," can exceed in bitterness. I must be a faithful chronicler, and as such confess that it was highly relished by all my fellowtravellers. It was late when we entered Huy, and rest was very needful after our long walk. Morning was over the Meuse before I could lose myself, an effect of restlessness, tired as I was, I could not help attributing to the execrable Absinthe.

no

Huy is, like Namur, strongly fortified; its situation on the river is most romantic. The fortress is placed on a rock, and commands the river on either side. Every one of the little party wished to see the works, and permission having been accorded, we paced through them. The rock itself is made to assist in forming places for cannon, &c., where it has been excavated with great It is due to the authorities to say that they were very obliging and courteous, sparing no pains to show and explain every thing that attracted our notice. A very richly carved gateway abuts on the cathedral, which is said to have been founded by Peter the Hermit. A hasty glance at the interior was sufficient to see that it was of the Gothic order, and of very elegant design.

care.

It was necessary to cross a bridge on our retreat from Huy, and to pursue the road to Liege on the left bank of the river. We had proceeded a short distance further, when the first vineyard that I had seen in Belgium presented itself. Certainly it had a pretty look; the clusters of purple grapes twined, as it were, round with the green leaves and graceful tendrils; one seemed as it were insensibly reminded of Italy, and those beauteous representations of the old masters, where they so frequently introduce a vineyard in the background of their choicest subjects. I must in justice to dear Old England give the preference, beautiful as some of the vineyards are, to the hop-gardens of Kent. The poles are higher, and group themselves into more fantastic forms when swayed or tossed by the wanton winds. The aroma of the hop, too, is so delicious, and there is not that tendency to fall utterly prostrate in the bines, that so often militates to the prejudice of the grape-vine. The grapes we tasted at a house near Huy were of pleasant flavour, not too sweet, and small, both singly and in bunches. Some wine made from the same vines at the last year's vintage was most unpalatable, and afforded a bad specimen of the general quality, of which we were told it was a fair average.

There are some noble views, comprising rock, river, trees, winding roads, luxuriant pastures, retired châteaux, to be seen between Huy and Liege. As this latter place is neared, however, the face of the country assumes a more cultivated aspect, and the rocks and forestcrowned heights recede into a beautiful fertile valley.

Poetry.

In Original Poetry, the Name, real or assumed, of the Author, is

printed in Small Capitals under the title; in Selections, it is printed in Italics at the end.

VILLAGE LYRICS.

No. I. THE SANCTUARY.

W. BRAILSFORD.

STILL clings the ivy to the wall; Still the elm tree's shadows fall, Over grave and tomb:

Still flows the gentle river on, With a sweet murmur of its own

Music in the gloom.

And still, from yonder moss-grown tower, The bell is heard at Sabbath hour,

Calling men to pray.

Many a heart, that now lies cold,
Underneath the darksome mould,

Bent its thoughts this way.

Ah! the days of our childhood's spring,
When the mind was a gallant thing,
Strong to do and dare:

As life's summer creepeth slowly,
Losing sense of symbols holy,
How it droops to care!

Ever to the world grown fonder,
How we droop, and seldom ponder
On our early time:
When the sound of the village bell
Subdued old griefs, like magic spell

From some eastern clime;

Bringing thoughts of peace and heaven,
With no measure of earth's leaven;
Pointing, with the spire,
To that highest source of sweetness,
Where perfection, and completeness,
Are the soul's desire.

Yet, sometime in the busy crowd,
When cares and woes the spirits shroud,
Bells upon the wind

Will tremble o'er the wearied brain,
And bring in gentle calm again
The old Church left behind,

Miscellaneous.

----

"I have here made only a nosegay of culled flowers, and have brought nothing of my own, but the string that ties them."-Montaigne.

How common it is to hear people talk about conscience, and yet how few there are who consider what it is; for conscience is an agreement or coincidence of the judgment of man with the judgment of God. When conscience condemns what God approves, or approves what God condemns, it is no longer conscience, but deceit and delusion. The conscience of the Quaker assures him that it is needless to be baptized, and the conscience of the Socinian scruples the worship of the Church of England as idolatry; but there is no more reason in the one or the other than in that conscience of the Musselmans which sends them two thousand miles on a pilgrimage to the tomb of their false prophet.-Jones of Nayland.

THE other morning I happened to rise earlier than ordinary, and thought I could not pass my time better

than to go upon the admonition of the morning bells to the church prayers at six of the clock. I was there the first of any in the congregation, and had the opportunity, however I made use of it, to look back on all my life, and contemplate the blessing and advantage of such stated early hours for offering ourselves to our Creator, and prepossess ourselves with the love of him, and the hopes we have from him against the snares of business and pleasure in the ensuing day. . . . Were this morning solemnity as much in vogue, even as it is now, at more advanced hours of the day, it would ne cessarily have so good an effect upon us, as to make us more disengaged and cheerful in conversation, and less artful and insincere in business. The world would be quite another place than it is now the rest of the day, and every face would have an alacrity in it which can be borrowed from no other reflections but those which give us the assured protection of Omnips tence.-Addison.

FEET OF THE CHINESE WOMEN.

THAT a whole race should take so much trouble, inflicting and undergoing so much pain, to deface and damage the body, is strange. It is the most universal and curious kind of mutilation practised in any country, and shows how dangerous it is to permit fashion, leagued with false notions of beauty, to tamper the wholesome operations of nature. There is litt doubt that the practice began at first in a small way and with slight results, in a desire of doing what they might, by artificial contrivances, to help in the forma tion of a small well-arched, female foot, and that crept on with increasing force, though by scarcely per ceptible movements, till it reached its present universa extent, and power of at once destroying all the beauty of the foot, and all but annihilating its functions. While the foot is stunted and crippled the leg wastes, loses its symmetrical roundness and waving outline, and, though other parts of the body are still in a state of vigoros growth, shrinks and withers like a palsied limb. I need scarcely be added that such a condition of the lower extremities must interfere materially with the power of locomotion. Walking is difficult and painful the gait being uncertain and waddling: the maimed object totters, is in continual danger of falling, and beyond short distances in girlhood, gladly avails herse of the help of a stick. Yet all this is done and suffered, sacrificing at once beauty and usefulness, in the absurd ambition of completing Nature's operations, and sur passing the scheme of creative wisdom.-Wilson's Medical Notes on China.

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No. 86.]

London Magazine:

A JOURNAL OF ENTERTAINMENT AND INSTRUCTION
FOR GENERAL READING.

VOL. IV.

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ACCOUNT OF THE GREAT FLOOD AT

DRESDEN, IN THE YEAR 1845.1

thresholds, pieces of furniture, garden fences, railings, &c., betokening the heavy accidents which must have befallen the villages and towns higher up the river Glancing across the vast expanse of water to the oppo

THE night from Saturday to Sunday was stormy and cold; but, notwithstanding this latter favourable cir-site side, the eye could partly discern the inroads the cumstance, the water had risen up to eight ellen, the Hood had made into Neustadt and the more eastern suburbs. All the chief streets of those parts opening o height of the famous inundation of 1799, and still continued rising. With terror the people watched the the river, together with a number of small lanes r ning into them, were extensively flooded, those at the register, and saw inch after inch continually gained by eastern extremity chiefly by the back-water of a brok the raging waves. When, on the morning of this never coming there into the right bank of the Elbe. The to-be-forgotten sabbath, I went to the door of my house, most imposing view of the whole scene was gained by I was dismayed at the progress the water had made persons standing in the garden of the Japanese palax during the night, and hastily ran back to order all those From this height they could clearly see the imm preparations which I have already named. When this danger which threatened the bridge and town. Locking was done, I became desirous of getting a survey of the downwards, the whole valley appeared like a wide a extensive lake, out of which only the trees, forming : dominion of the flood in other parts of the town, as far avenues of the Gehege, raised their lofty heads: on th as anxiety respecting my own situation would allow. opposite side, poor Friederichstadt looked out from the In two hours the water had overstepped our threshold, waves, a second Venice. Leading to the last-mentioned and tanners in their great coats were busy erecting the suburb from Altstadt, is a fine avenue of chest tressel-bridge in our street, to which, from every door, trees, more than a hundred years old. This connexi was now nearly cut off for foot-passengers, and was a board led over. Having thus a mode of egress, I soon kept up by an odd medley of conveyances. Besides i directed my steps to the great focus of attraction, the few boats that plied between the insulated spots, the bridge, and Brühlische Terrace; but you cannot form were also several carts, droskies, and other vehicle an idea, from my poor description, in any measure ade- full activity, carrying over heavy loads of people, noquate to the reality of the sight which the river pre- much as a matter of necessity, but for the enjoyme sented. If you can picture to yourself a quiet, inoffen- and amusement of the younger portion of the poplat sive, nay, ever-amiable and lovely being, wrought up state of things, which to their elders was a matter who, in their thoughtlessness, were delighted with by some extraordinary occurrence to a height of passion, sadness and anxiety. To gratify their eagerness to s bordering on frenzy, then you may have something the flooded way, robust men were seen, with large be of the impression I wish to convey. On passing through up to the thighs, wading through the water, and bearing the Zwinger, at the entrance leading towards the river, in succession not a few of the crowd for a trifling s I was met by a rush of water, which, gushing out from At the end of this avenue there is a bridge over t one of the sewers, seemed the fierce messenger to anWeisseritz leading to Friederichstadt. From this brid whose arches were now nearly filled up, a good vice nounce the speedy occupation also of this pretty spot. the havoc going on might also be obtained. Arrived at the Terrace, I stood fixed to the earth in awe water here was nearly all back-water, caused by the and admiration, not unmixed with inward shuddering. rent of the Elbe driving back the waters of the Wes For now, it might be about noon, the water-mark was ritz. The occupants of a great many old and low a already over nine, and very little below the enormous houses in this neighbourhood were busily engaged floods of 1784. Frightful was the rush of the torrent removing their furniture to the top story, or in lear through the arches of the bridge, for the bed of the river their habitations altogether. It was certainly a is narrowed at that part by the houses on both sides, a protecting Providence, as well as a proof of the e and by the Brühlische Terrace. The water was actually ciency of the precautions adopted by the authorit higher by an elle on one side of the bridge than on the that in the midst of all these scenes of confusion other, several of the arches being entirely stopped up accident occurred, but everything was conducted it seemed, indeed, but too probable, that, in consequence perfect order and quiet. Charity, hospitality, of the enormous weight it had to sustain, the noble Christian kindness were abroad to assist the needy, 25 structure would at length be swept away. For it was shelter those who were driven from their homes. not the pressure of water alone which threatened de-kindness was even extended to animals: a number of struction; it was rather the enormous quantities of timber floating down the river. Large trunks of trees, masts, and beams, either with their thick ends ran against the When I returned to my home, after this hasty my piers like catapults of old, or, swinging round, came across of the town, I found that a boat had replaced the l the arches, where, tossed by the fury of the torrent, they in our street, the latter having become useless from t were splintered into a thousand fragments. Still, the rising of the water. I also perceived, to my dist bulwark of by gone centuries nobly withstood these that the water was within two or three inches e shocks, and carriages and passengers went over it with threshold. It now appeared, indeed, too probabi the fullest confidence in its solidity and long-tried exthe water would actually enter our house, and p cellence. In the place of the ice, the stream was now through it into the court-yard behind, which, b perfectly covered, not only with the larger species of lower than the street, would have been filled ere timber, but with thousands of logs cut short for fire- had not the walls of houses on every side prevented wood, together with stores of planks and boards from entrance of the water. It was not until this mom timber-yards. Some of these latter were situated in the that we were convinced of our mistake in supp lower parts of the town, and within sight of the that we were safe from the attacks of the enemy. A Brühlische Terrace, whence the havoc could be clearly very little farther rise would now be sufficient to discerned. It was really distressing to see how, one by flow our warm and comfortable apartments. The one, the valuable stores, built up in huge stacks, were templation of this event saddened our spirits, s lifted up majestically from their places, carried into though we sat down to dinner as usual, neither the middle of the stream, and then overturned, and wife nor I could enjoy our meal. But we fored ( scattered widely over the river. But still more dis-selves to take some refreshment, under the idea th tressing was it to distinguish, among the floating mate-strength might be wanted to bear the coming tra rials, portions of human habitations-house-doors, Scarcely had we risen from table when, on looking f the yard, I saw little bubbles rising in the softer parts

(1) Concluded from p. 100.

pigs, for instance, were rescued from their flooded s and carried into an up-stairs room for safety.

out.

of the ground, and in the chinks of the paths little | mist and drizzling rain. The first look out from our pools gathering as from unseen springs. At the same prison was a dreary and distressing one. In our courttime a rushing and splashing noise in one corner indi-yard, as well as in the yards belonging to the adjacent cated that the water had found its way through the walls houses, the water had risen to an imposing height, the of the neighbouring houses. Though the enemy was shrubs having vanished, and only a few trees standing close at hand, no one took the precaution of securing a The surface of this lake was strewed with floating passage for us over the court-yard, which indeed would materials of every description, and a cold damp atmoafterwards have proved quite useless, as the common sphere rested upon it, giving an unwholesome chilliness mode of setting up tressels was soon defied by the rapid to our encampment. I ran down stairs, to see what rising of the water. At this moment it occurred to me advance the water had made in our habitation, launchto procure from the wash-house a large tub, by means ing my boat, namely, my washing-tub, that I might the of which I might, in case of necessity, row myself to better examine the state of the piano, and other furthe opposite side of the yard. niture. I was grieved to find that, without some strenuous effort on our part to remove them, our most valuable articles would soon be irreparably injured. Determined to seek once more for aid, we called across the yard to the occupants of the other parts of the building; but they declared they had no means of getting over to us; and, perhaps, they felt no great wish to do so, having, doubtless, abundant cares of their own. I then attempted to cross the yard in my tub, but without success. The poles I used to urge my vessel forward stuck fast in the mud, and nearly capsized me, so that I was obliged to return, and try a second appeal from the windows. Two women answered me that their husbands were out, seeking for bread; and, even if they were at home, it was scarcely possible they could reach us. Several vain and impracticable schemes occupied another weary hour, but lo! when hope began to fail us, unexpectedly help appeared. A young and courageous friend, who had just heard of our situation, had contrived to make his way to the house opposite ours, where, seeing our insulated position, and hearing our lamentations, he set to work at once making a raft With a long pole he caught a number of planks as they floated by on the water, drew them to the steps of a staircase on which he stood, nailed them together, and completed his work by placing a large door upon this frame-work. In a few minutes afterwards our hero was seen bravely skimming the ocean, and was greeted by the general applause of the people who had watched his operations. Having tested the safety of his raft, he took on it another friend of ours, and both came to our assistance. Being now three, we were able to remove all the rest of the furniture, including the piano, though, in order to do this, we had to wade in the water up to our knees. Our minds were now more at rest, and a means of communication being opened to us by the raft, we were speedily provided with fresh water, food, &c., and also received the visits of a number of friends.

The ground now became more and more like a sieve, through which the water rushed up incessantly. In the mean time the flood had entered one of the houses by the street-door, and passing through, became a rivulet, which poured in a cascade down the stone steps into the yard, thus hastening the conversion of the latter into a reflecting sheet of water. This change was accomplished in less than an hour; streams, also, running from every erner and crevice of the opposite houses. The water having now risen half an elle, I tried my first expedition in the washing-tub, and succeeded, amidst the cheers of the spectators, in reaching the opposite house. There I found a man to whom the opening, and shutting, and cleaning the house belonged, busily engaged in removing various articles. I applied to him for assistance in removing my furniture, especially my piano, from the ground floor, to an upper story. But he said, "How ean we manage, both of us, to cross the yard in your washing-tub? and when there, how shall I return? Besides," he added, "you have nothing to fear; the water will not rise so high as to enter your house." This hope I no longer could or would cherish. Therefore, as soon as I had returned from my expedition, my wife and I set to work in earnest in removing as many articles as we possibly could in so short a time. It was all very well while we had to deal with the smaller articles of furniture; but when we came to the heavier ones, we found ourselves little competent to the task. However, the near approach of danger gave us increasing energy, and we managed to secure many of the more cumbrous pieces also. To our dismay, we found ourselves wholly unable to remove the piano, and the most our failing strength would permit us to do, was to place it upon a strong and heavy table. After the toil of four hours, we were ready to bid farewell to the half emptied rooms; and high time it was to do so. An ago, the flood had made a furious rush down into the cellar, and filled it. Pressing upwards from thence, it now began to ooze through the boards of the floor, and soon formed little pools here and there. This was the state of things when, with a sigh, we left our comfortable sitting room; and very soon afterwards, the rooms were several inches deep in water. Evening now closed in, followed by a night, to us, the most desolate we had ever passed, while, to others, it was one of real danger, threatening death and destruction. Many eyes were open, and many hands folded in prayer. We also slept very little; the sense of being utterly cut off from others, whatever might happen, was too painful to permit of repose. But, if this was our condition, what must have been the apprehensions of those who lived nearer the river! The scene from the bridge that evening was described by an eye-witness as being very awful. The roaring of the torrent, caused by the waves breaking against the piers, was frightfully high, and the spray fell everywhere like hail; while the distorted reflections of the lights on the bridge made the whole only more wild and distorted. A general fear began to prevail, that the pressure of the still increasing waters would act on every street, so as to choke and burst the sewers, and thus bring on Dresden a similar destruction to that by which the city of Pesth had been visited the year before. From this terrible fate we were happily spared. At length, Monday morning came; but the sun rose amidst

hour

During the hour in which we had been occupied with the removal of our goods, we fancied there was no farther rise in the water; and soon, to our great delight, we found this actually to be the case; not that we dared trust our eyes, but soon the glad tidings were running through the whole town. And truly it was in a time of extremity, that the Almighty thus checked the progress of the waves, for great things had been going on while we were occupied by our petty cares. learned of the friend who came to our rescue, and who had been abroad the whole morning.

This we

In front of the royal castle, and round the theatre, the waters had gained ground hour by hour. The Roman Catholic church, nearly in the centre of this spacious place, was now quite surrounded, and its vaults, where the coffins of the royal family are deposited, were completely filled. Street after street became extensively flooded, and much damage was done in the shops of grocers, bakers, and others, who, thinking themselves secure, had neglected to remove their stores. Notwithstanding the precautions of the magistracy, the want of bread and provisions began to be felt. His majesty the king, who had already visited the most endangered districts, set the example of relieving the poor, by ordering the sum of five hundred dollars to be paid to the police for distribution, in the form of bread. Of the

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