ing when she travelled onward to the minster town. How her heart beat audibly when, by the waning evening light, the home even of that miserable childhood was seen again. Lifting the latch, she stole into the house; but no happy voice, no greeting met her ear; all that was said was, Well, you're come at last.' But by and by, when it was hinted that the larder was empty, and the relic of those four bright pounds were seen, more civil words were heard, which, warming into a full tide of kindness, lasted, veritably lasted, till the last shilling was spent; then-then laughing her poverty to scorn, she was ordered to travel back to London in the best fashion she could. The good old prebend was absent from Lincoln; so it was only from poor blind Saul she could borrow a scanty sum, which sum was the more needful, as she had to travel out of the high road to a little town where her dear brother Tom now lived. He had run away from home soon after Bridget had left, and after many ups and downs in those few years, was now become half clerk half servant in the house of a country attorney. His nature was more passive than that of Bridget, more yielding, less energetic: having been from childhood weak in body, he had scarcely bettered his condition in changing one scene of drudgery for another. In the little parlour of the country inn his long sad tale of passive suffering was told to the sister's ear. If she wept, it was but for a moment; then talking cheerfully of what the future should be-how they would work together, how they would be dear friends, how they in London would have one common home, and asking nothing from the world, still pay to it one never-failing debt of cheerfulness and sympathy; how they would do all this they said so many times, that the supper grew cold, and poor feeble Tom laughed outright. They parted that summer's night; there was comfort when Bridget promised that a letter should come soon. She did not even hint the joy that should be in it. Once more in London, she began that very week to build a home for Tom. By a little help from her Long Acre friends she procured some few pupils, whose parents being ambitious to adorn their parlour walls at the cheapest rate, had their children initiated into the mysteries of art at sixpence the lesson. Sixteen lessons a-week made eight shillings-little enough to exist upon; but it yet hired a room and bought bread, and something like the consciousness of independence. At night, too, there were hours to work in-and then the practice of wood-engraving went nimbly on. In returning home once a-week from a distant part of London, Bridget had to pass in an obscure street an old bookstall. She sometimes stopped to look upon it; she always did so when she had seen upon it an old thumbed copy of Bewick's British Birds. In those rare tail-pieces, that never were surpassed, one who knew all the difficulties of the art found infinite delight. She was observed one evening by a gentleman who had come up to the bookstall some minutes after Bridget; like her, too, he was curious in art, and wondered what this young poor-clad female could find of interest in one or two small pictured pages, not hastily turned over, but dwelt upon long, minute after minute. He followed, but her light step soon left him far behind: he came again-there she was, on the same day week, with that same old thumbed Bewick. Weeks went by in this manner, till the stall-keeper, remembering her oftenseen face, bid her buy, or else not touch the books again; and Bridget, creeping away like one guilty of a misdeed, saw not that the curious gentleman had bought the books, and now followed her with speedy foot. This time he might have found her home, but that, in a street leading into Holborn, some papers fell from the little roll of drawings she carried; he stooped to pick them up in the moment of glancing at them she was lost to sight. Now that night-labour had made her somewhat proficient in the art, she tried to get employment; but for weeks without success. Specimens sent in to engravers were returned, letters to publishers unheeded; letters or specimens from Long Acre were of a surety inadmissible. The master who had taught her was dead. At last there was pointed out to her an advertisement in one of the daily papers, that engravers upon wood were wanted for the designs of a cheap publication. There was reference to a person of whom Bridget had heard; so, sending first for permission, she was introduced to the advertiser. A subject for illustration was chosen, and a pencil placed in her hand. When the design came out visibly from the paper, the advertiser, shaking his head, said he would consider. This consideration took some weeks; meanwhile a sleepless pillow was that of poor Bridget. At last the answer came; he would employ her, but at a very moderate remuneration. Yet here was hope, clear as the noonday's sun; here was the first bright-beaded drop in the cup of the selfhelper; here was hope for Tom; here matter for the promised letter. The work done, the remuneration coming in, the fruition came; new yet humble rooms were hired, second-hand furniture bought piece by piece; and it was a proud night when, alone in her still chamber, the poor despised Lincoln girl thanked Heaven for its holy mercy. The proverb tells us that good fortune is never singlehanded. On the morrow-it was a wet and rainy day Bridget, in passing into Spring Gardens, observed that the stall of a poor lame apple woman had been partly overturned by some rude urchin. She stopped to help the woman, and whilst so doing, a very fat old gentleman came up, and looking, very quietly remarked in a sort of audible whisper to himself, Curious! very curious! this same very little act of mercy first introduced me to my excellent Tom: ay! ay! Tom's gone; there isn't such another from Eastcheap to Chelsea.' The name of Tom was music to Bridget's ears. The old gentleman had moved away; but following quickly, Bridget addressed him. 'I have a brother, sir, whose name is 'Tom,' interrupted the old gentleman; 'find me my Tom's equal, and I'll say something to you. Here is my address." He thrust a card into Bridget's hand, and went on. Here was a romantic omen of good for Tom. That same night the letter was indited. Two days after, the country wagon deposited Tom in the great city. An hour after, he sat by Bridget's hearth. This night repays me for all past sorrow,' said the sister, as she sat hand in hand by her brother's side. Years ago, in those lonely winter nights, something like a dream of this same happy hour would come before me. Indeed it did, dear Tom.' Each thing within those same two narrow rooms had a history; the cuckoo clock itself would have furnished matter for a tale; the six chairs and the one table were prodigies. On the morrow, Tom, guided by the address, found out the office of the fat old gentleman, who, being a bachelor and an attorney, held pleasant chambers in Clement's Inn. Whether induced by Tom's appearance or his name, we know not, but the old gentleman, after certain inquiries at the coachmaker's in Long Acre, took Tom for his clerk, at the salary of six shillings a-week. We must now allow weeks to pass by. In the meanwhile Bridget's work increased, though not the money paid for it. Yet out of these same earnings a small sum was laid by, for what our Lincoln girl breathed to no living ear. About this time better work was heard of, but application for it, through the person who employed her, failed; how, she knew not. If I had a friend, she said, I might succeed; and though Richard has passed me in the streets unheeded, still I will make one last ap-, peal to him. She went, not in rags, but decently attired. That you are rich, and above me in circumstances, I know, Richard,' she humbly said; 'hitherto you have scorned to own one so poor; but as I have never wronged you or your name, you will perhaps say that I am your sister?" I made your fortune once,' he bitterly answered; of your honest purposes since then I know nothing. For the rest, it is not convenient for a man in my condition to have pauper friends-you have my answer.' Brother,' she said, as she obeyed the haughty gesture that signaled her to leave the room, may you regret the words you have so harshly spoken. For the rest, believe me I shall yet succeed, in spite of all this opposition.' The peace of Bridget's home was now broken by weekly letters from Lincoln for loan of money, which applications being successful for a few times, only made the letters more urgent and pressing in their demands. Some months after Bridget's interview with Richard, there sat one winter's evening in the study of a celebrated author three gentlemen. author himself, as widely known for his large human The one was the loving heart as for the books he had written. He had now been for some days translating a child's story from the German, a sort of spiritual child's book, like the Story without an End. Were this book illustrated by one who had the same self-helping soul as its author, the same instinctive feeling,' said the translator to one of his friends, it would indeed be priceless. I have sometimes thought none but a woman could catch the simple yet deep maternal feeling that lies in these same pages; but where is There is a woman capable of this,' said one of the friends, turning to the author; beyond all doubt capable. Look here.' He drew forth from a pocket-book the very papers which two years before Bridget had lost. "You say true,' answered the translator; but what is this; it seems like the copy of some carved foliage, some • This must be Bridget's,' interrupted the other guest, leaning across the table with anxious face (for it was no other than the minster prebend); I see it is; yes, yes, a copy of the antique carving from the minster wall. Good things have been said in Lincoln of this Bridget, but the father would never tell where she was.' The enthusiastic old gentleman now entered into a long detail of Bridget's youth, which, coupled with the other gentleman's story, left no doubt that the peeper into the thumbed copy of Bewick and the Lincoln girl were one and the same. Next day anxious inquiries were set on foot respecting Bridget, but without effect. Then weeks went by, and in the meanwhile the German book could find no fit illustrator. But at last the woodcuts in the cheap periodical for which Bridget engraved were remarked upon. The man who had the name of being both the artist and engraver was applied to, and he agreed to furnish the desired illustrations. A few were sent in, surpassing the author's hopes; but a stray leaf, a graceful touch, brought to memory the hand of Bridget. Yet she could not be heard of, though the old Lincoln gentleman was indefatigable in his inquiries. At length one night the prebend and his friend were returning along the Strand in a westerly direction, when by St Clement's Daines they observed a very fat old gentleman creeping slowly along the pavement, whilst a diminutive youth kept watch and guard, now right, now left, as either side seemed likely to be jostled by some rude passer-by. You shall go no further,' at length said the old gentleman, stopping short; not an inch farther. Go! give my love to your sister, you dog, and say that I have to thank her for introducing to me a second incomparable Tom.' But the boy was so far incomparable, that, being wilful and obstinate, he would see the old gentleman safe within New Inn, which was near at hand; and the friends, waiting outside, stayed till the boy returned, for his voice had brought to the prebend's ear that of Bridget. They followed him into Long Acre, up two pair of stairs, where, lifting the latch, the prebend be 109 held the same Bridget whom he had known at Lincoln, while his companion recognised, in the same person, her whom he had followed years ago. his coat by the fire; for the night was wet, and Bridget herself busily at work upon the illustration of the Gerburnt upon the hearth, Tom's tea ready, his shoes and A good fire man and her he almost thought his child; strange the man story. Happy was the meeting between the old Bewick, and hoarded those poor drawings. We have not room to tell the joy of that night. feelings of the gentleman who had bought the thumbed bered Bridget at the bookstall. He was the same rich escape to the home of her kind city friends, even for a the hand of ladies of wealth and beauty.' of soul. Money is an advantage which the many have; which must be yet a secret. Whatever was its purpose, have now shown myself a humble loving sister of this dear as the marriage-ring was on that day, was the gift Bridget, as the wife and mother, is still the same, losing ing succeeded to the snug practice of the fat gentleman. the selfishness, the pride of the elder brother, we will draw a veil, for the memory of good is better than the memory of evil. Bridget had triumph enough in the fruition of honest labour. VITAL STATISTICS OF GLASGOW-HEALTH OF LARGE TOWNS. THE statistics of Glasgow have been for thirty years taken with unexampled accuracy, first by Dr Cleland, and afterwards by Dr Alexander Watt. The publication giving the vital statistics for 1841 and 1842, exhibits the appearance of extraordinary diligence and care, and some of the results are of general interest. It appears, for instance, that the high mortality of Glasgow-high even for a large city-falls chiefly upon the humbler classes. As is generally observed, the great mortality is particularly severe upon children. At an average, 45 per cent. of the whole deaths are of persons under five years of age. One in ten of all persons living in Glasgow at those ages die annually. And the younger infants are the greatest sufferers in proportion. Of those living in the city under a year old, nearly 19 per cent., or one-fifth, perish each year. That is to say, of 8368 yearlings, no fewer than 1582 are not allowed to pass into a second year. A large city like Glasgow is also unfavourable for aged life. In Perthshire, an agricultural county, the proportion of inhabitants above sixty years of age is 5-19 per cent. greater than in Glasgow. In the city of Perth, which contains only twenty thousand inhabitants, and where the people generally may be presumed to live in healthier circumstances, the proportion of deaths at infantine ages is likewise low in comparison with Glasgow. Only 15 per cent. of the yearling babies die there each year. Glasgow and Edinburgh have been remarkable of late years above all British cities for the amount of mortality from fever. Dr Watt discovers a remarkable parity in the proportions of deaths at various ages from this disease in the two cities, to all deaths from the same cause, showing the agency of a common law in both cases. Taking Edinburgh on an average of the three years, 1839, 40, and 41, and Glasgow on an average of five years, 1837, 38, 39, 40, and 41, it is found that the results are as follow:: It is striking to find two Scottish cities so much alike in respect of a particular disease, while all other cities of similar size are so differently situated. Does not this throw some light on the much-disputed question as to the leading cause of the fever pestilence of Glasgow and Edinburgh? Imperfect drainage, deficient ventilation, intemperance, and destitution, have all been cited, and found advocates. The three first agencies are shared by other cities. The last is more peculiar to the large towns of Scotland, in consequence of want of all regular provision for the able-bodied poor, and the stinted manner in which even the helpless are supplied. It seems scarcely to be doubted that the starveling poor-law of Scotland is the cause chiefly concerned. On this point Dr Watt throws some valuable illustration. At the close of the year 1842, it was found, much to the surprise of the public of Glasgow, that the mortality of that year, which was one of extremely depressed trade, when many working-people were thrown idle, was less than in some more prosperous years; seeming to imply that the bulk of the people enjoy best health in impoverished circumstances. It now appears that the diminished mortality of that year was owing to the systematic relief which the poor generally enjoyed during most of that period; a bounty which the miserable class does not experience in ordinary seasons, Indeed, the rise and fall of mortality with the distribution of relief, and without regard to prosperous or adverse times, is a fact clearly made out. Distress from failure of employment began in the west of Scotland in October 1836. In January of the ensuing year, while this distress continued unrelieved, fever and influenza fell heavily upon Glasgow, and during that month alone the mortality was 1972, being about twice the usual average. The mortality of that year exceeded that of 1836 by 1743, and the great severity of it amongst the poorer class is shown by the unusual number of funerals at the public expense. In the course of spring, however, subscriptions were made; that is, the benevolent few undertook the support of the starving poor, and no fewer than 18,500 were at one time dependent upon these funds. Immediately thereafter the monthly mortality fell, till in June it was only 665. From May 1842 to May 1843 was another period of depression, during which voluntarily-supplied funds were distributed for the relief of the destitute. There were, according to Dr Watt, much fewer cases of unrelieved destitution in Glasgow in 1842 than during any year of ordinary prosperity.' But on the return of better times, in May 1843, this relief was discontinued. The consequence was, that the mortality began to increase, notwithstanding the season being a healthy one, provisions cheap, and the wealthier classes comparatively exempt from disease. A severe mortality lay upon the city during the four or five months which are usually healthiest, and the amount of deaths for the year was increased by 2340 as compared with 1842. In October, relief was resumed among the sufferers from the late epidemic, and money flowed to the poorest class through other channels, particularly through a humble kind of labouring work, the laying of gas-pipes. Again, then, notwithstanding the wintry weather, which usually increases the number of deaths, an alleviation of the mortality began to be observed, and in December the funerals were only 728. ་ Dr Watt adds: From personal inquiries I made among the labouring classes in Glasgow during the summer months of 1843. I found that many of them had only occasional employment, which was quite insufficient to supply themselves and their families with the necessaries of life. I have also been favoured with letters from six of the district surgeons of Glasgow, in answer to a circular I took the liberty of addressing to them, with the view of completing the evidence as to the connexion of disease and mortality with the condition of the people; and from the statements of each of these gentlemen, with one exception, it appears that the greatest amount of disease and mortality seen by them was in persons who had little or no employment. Dr Alison has carried his inquiries on this head much further than I have done; and it will be seen from one of his tables that, out of 1038 fever patients in Edinburgh, whose cases were inquired into, 400 were in regular work (that is, themselves or the heads of their families), and 638 out of work, or with scanty occasional work. Again, in another table he states, that from inquiries made respecting fever patients in the Royal Infirmary and Havannah districts of Glasgow, and also in Greenock hospital, it was found that, out of 436 cases, there were 135 in full work when attacked, 220 in partial work, "insufficient for support," and 81 wholly out of work; so that, out of 436 cases, there were 301 in a state of destitution. Again, in his postscript, that in all 768 fever patients in 1843 were examined, and that of these not quite one-third were fully employed-that is, the destitute part of the population furnished 66 per cent. of the fevers. 'Surely no better evidence than the foregoing facts can be required to prove that the extension of disease among our town-population essentially depends on the amount of unrelieved destitution which exists among the people.* *The mortality of towns in England in comparison with that of towns in Scotland, has been quoted to show that the amount of The same results are brought out in the report of M. Villerme, in the tenth volume of Archives Generales, where it is shown that in the three districts of Paris in which the mortality is the least, the inhabitants are the wealthiest; and in the three districts in which the inhabitants are the poorest, the mortality is the greatest -the difference being no less than 1 in 24, and 1 in 45, on an average of five years. Were our registers so improved that the sanitary condition of the various localities of Glasgow could be correctly ascertained, there is little doubt that the greatest portion of it would be found to be as healthy as any other town, notwithstanding the high mortality indicated by our mortality bills. This we have good reason for believing to be the case, as it is now found that no less than two-thirds of the increased mortality in 1837 and in 1843, over that of the preceding years, took place among the most destitute poor, who were buried at the expense of the public. The principal reason which must prevent our coming to the conclusion that the better portions of Glasgow are very healthy, is the high average amount of fever cases which unrelieved destitution is found to be the means of spreading to such a grievous extent among our population; for it is generally found, that although fevers rage with the greatest frequency, and cause the greatest number of deaths among the poor and destitute, yet the contagion soon passes to the wealthier classes, who also become the sufferers, and among whom the mortality, as proportioned to the number attacked, is usually greater.' Facts like these must in time, we should think, wear away the unhappy prevalence of wrong dogmas among our countrymen with regard to poor laws. There is no unusual inhumanity towards the poor amongst us; we only labour under an inveterate error in supposing that the only means to maintain active and provident feelings amongst the industrious orders, is to keep the destitute, whether helpless or helpful, in a state bordering on, or passing within the limits of, starvation. POPULAR FRENCH SONGS. NO. V.-PORTRAITS À LA MODE. THE title of this song is derived from those black profiles, specimens of which may be seen exhibited at the door or window of some humble taker of likenesses in every town where the fine arts receive the smallest encouragement. The process is so simple, and the subject executed so rapidly, that, provided the artist be constantly employed, he may earn a respectable living. A sheet of blackened paper and a pair of scissors are all the implements he requires. His sitters turn their profiles in the best point of view, and he copies their visages as he cuts his way into the black sheet. The head, when completed, is stuck on some white card by way of contrast, and the subject is finished. Of all the various means employed to obtain 'counterfeit presentments' of the human countenance, these ebon profiles, if not the best representations, are the cheapest; for to the specimens we mention is generally attached in this country an equally black advertisement, announcing that like deaths in some of the English towns is as great, and, in one instance, even exceeds that in the towns of Scotland. From personal inquiry I have made into the local condition of a great portion of Liverpool, as well as into the circumstances of the people (in 1841), I have come to the conclusion, that besides the miserable condition of the houses of the poor as to the want of proper drainage, the inattention to cleanliness, and other defects among them-the very high mortality of that town proceeds from a want of sufficient employment, and from destitution arising from occasional sickness among the stranger poor (chiefly Irish), who have no legal claim for relief, and who submit, in numerous instances, to the greatest deprivations, rather than let their circumstances be known a second time to the superintendents of the poor, knowing, as they do, that their removal to their native parish would be the consequence-Dr Watt. nesses are taken in this style at 6d.'-nay, we have sometimes seen the price temptingly reduced to the small charge of 3d. To this extreme lowness of price the black profile owes not only the above title, but that by which it is more extensively known, namely, Silhouette.' In 1759 the French minister of finance was Etienne de Silhouette, who strove by severe economy to remedy the evils of a war which was pressing severely upon the exchequer. Half measures, from the most to the least important transaction, are by no means characteristic of the French. A rage for economy seized every rank of the state, and all the fashions of Paris took the character of parsimony. Coats were worn without folds, jewelled snuff-boxes were exchanged for wooden ones, and instead of painted portraits, no one went to greater expense for such a luxury than was necessary for a black profile. All these fashions were called à la Silhouette; but this name permanently remained only to the miniatures, which retain it to this day even in England. They were also called Portraits à la Mode, because Silhouette was another name for parsimony, thenthat is to say, at the time the following song was written-in full vogue. The fashion was, as might be expected, short-lived; it lasted as long as its founder's tenure of office, which was exactly nine months. The author of both the words and music of the song was Favart, a wit and actor of celebrity in his day. It was sung at the end of a dramatic prologue, entitled the Resource of Theatres, with which the Opera - Comique was opened in 1760. We find the following account of its success in the Almanach de Theatres:This prologue (Ressource des Theatres) is ended by a country dance, named Les Portraits à la Mode, and by couplets sung to the tune, with which the audience was extremely delighted. From the actors the song passed to the fêtes and fairs, and at last became current amongst the populace.' The Portraits à la Mode' presents a curious picture of the manners and foibles of the time at which it was written. Some of the allusions, even when freely translated, require explanations. These we will give at the end. PORTRAITS À LA MODE. To follow with uniformity This was the ancient code. Paris, its promenades and halls Is filled with calotins, and dolls Danced on strings at public balls, And Portraits à la Mode. Valets modest in their spheres, This was the ancient code. Magistrates on justice bent, Financiers glad of three per cent., Grocers with their shops contentThis was the ancient code. Midases to concerts running, Money-lenders nobles dunning, Petty traders counters shunning, Are Portraits à la Mode. Damsels, wholesome censure fearing, By Prudence aye their conduct steering- Youth wisely filling up its leisure In gaining knowledge-priceless treasure; At sixteen quitting thoughts of pleasureThis was the ancient code. Young men old with dissipation, Old fops courting admiration, Dowagers simpering fascination, Are Portraits à la Mode. Learning in the pulpit placed, The judgment-seat by virtue graced, With pomp the nobles of the land, This was the ancient code. Gewgaw lords, who shun the wise, And all but fiddlers now despise, Or dancers decked in flimsy guise, Are Portraits à la Mode. The doctor following, to his gain, The poet, ere he found a theme, Painters, selecting lofty means, Are l'ortraits à la Mode. In the first stanza of these Portraits à la Mode, the word 'calotins' requires explanation. Le Régiment de la Calottes (the regiment of the caps) was formed by a band of wits belonging to the dissipated court of Louis XIV. It acted as a sort of facetious police to punish persons who made themselves ridiculous; and punishment was usually inflicted by sending them a fool's cap. As regards the dolls moved by strings, it is actually a fact that such toys as are now the delight of the youngest children were played with by adults at the time the above song was written. Amidst a roomful of company, says our authority (Du Mersan), during a grave conversation, it was not uncommon to see a military officer or a staid magistrate pull out one of these card-board pantins, and dance it about by its strings for his own and his friends' amusement. When this sort of toy went out of fashion, others were adopted by the grown children of the court and gay world of Paris, such as cup and ball, devil on two sticks, &c. In the second stanza, the allusion to feathers in the caps of servants was provoked by the fashionable headdresses of the day, which usually consisted of threecocked hats, bedecked with almost a panoply of ostrich plumes. The mention of a cabriolet' in 1760, may at first sight strike the English reader as an anachronism, those vehicles not having been known in this country till 1824. They have been, however, in constant use in Paris for nearly a century. Indeed, about the period of this ditty, fashionables were very choice in their vehicles, many new ones having been about that time invented. This is hinted at in the stanza which mentions medical practitioners. Much of the remainder of the Portraits à la Mode, remarks the French commentator, applies too well to the foibles of the present day to need any further elucidation. The song, though not perhaps so brilliant either in versification or wit as others in the collection, is chiefly interesting for the explanations it involves, and as an exposition of the manners it praises and satirises. LITERARY ANECDOTES. A PRINTER at Paris wrote a tragedy called Joshua, which he printed in the most beautiful type, and gave a copy to the celebrated Bodoni, a brother printer at Parma. What do you think of my tragedy?' asked the author. Full of beauties!' exclaimed Bodoni; your characters are perfect -exquisite-especially the capitals!' It is impossible to avoid the use of terms of art. An author, while discussing the corn-law question, was heard to inquire what price bread was published at; and a printer's boy, just returned from delivering a letter, declared that he found the place out at last, but it was at the top of the house, and he had to open half a quire of doors before he got to it.' Louis XIV. was presented with an epitaph on Moliere by an indifferent poet. I would rather,' said his majesty, that Moliere had brought me yours.' Count Mazarin kept a complete collection of the libels written against him; it amounted to forty-six quarto volumes. Rivarol said of Buffon's son, who was a very dolt, that he was the worst chapter of his father's Natural History. Lord William Poulet was said to be the author of a pamphlet called The Snake in the Grass. A gentleman abused in it sent him a challenge. Lord William protested his innocence, but the gentleman insisted upon a denial under his hand. Lord William took up a pen and began— "This is too sartefy thut the bock kalled The Snak'Oh, my lord,' said the gentleman, I am satisfied; your lordship has already convinced me you did not write the book.' Malherbe having dined with the bishop of Rouen, who was a dull preacher, was asked by him to adjourn from the table to the church, where he was then going to preach. Pardon me,' ,' said Malherbe, but I can sleep very well where I am.' The Duke of Cumberland told Dr Price that he had read his pamphlet on the National Debt with much delight, and sat up so late to finish it, that it had almost blinded him. 'Rather strange,' said the author, that it should have such an effect on your royal highness, for it has opened the eyes of everybody else.' Notwithstanding the prohibition of the Koran against paintings and images, the Sultan Mahomed II. had a fancy for the arts, and ordered Gentil Bellini, a Venetian artist, When the picture was finished, the sultan found fault to paint a picture of the beheading of John the Baptist. with the representation of the wounded part; and to show him that his criticism was correct, he immediately drew his scimitar and struck off the head of one of his slaves. Bellini, on leaving the presence, thinking he had caught 'an ugly customer,' set sail for Venice the same evening. A Persian philosopher being asked by what method he had acquired so much knowledge, answered, By not being prevented by shame from asking questions when I was ignorant.' Collins, his favourite poet. The sexton having shown him Langhorne travelled to Chichester to visit the grave of the grave, Langhorne became very sentimental and deeply affected. "Ah!' said the sexton, you may well grieve for Mr Collins, for he was an honest man and a first-rate tailor.' Some person reported to the amiable poet Tasso that a malicious enemy spoke ill of him to all the world. Let him persevere,' said Tasso; his rancour gives me no pain. How much better is it that he should speak ill of me to all the world than that all the world should speak ill of me to him.' dirty little shop in an obscure part of London this anNot long since, there might be seen on the window of a nouncement:- Goods removed, messages taken, carpets beat, and poetry composed on any subject.' The fifth edition of a heavy work being announced, a person expressed some surprise, which was answered by one in the secret, 'It is the only way to sell the first.” Speaking of the beneficial influence of cheers on a player, it was remarked that they give one courage. Ay,' said Mrs Siddons, 'but what is better-they give one breath." Printed by William Bradbury, of No. 6, York Place, and Frederick Mullett Evans of No 7. Church Row, both of Stoke Newington, in the county of Middleses. printers, at their office, Lombard Street, in the precinct of Whitefriars, and city of London and Published (with permission of the Proprietors, W. and R. CHAMBERS,) by WILLIAM SOMERVILLE ORK. Publisher, of 3, Amen Corner, at No 2. AMEN CORNER, both in the parish of Christchurch, and in the city of London Saturday, August 17. 1844. |