when one, more sagacious than the cation of warm blankets, friction, rest, by a bright thought, proposed &c. is a simple tumbler, or more, of sending for the Doctor. Trite as the the purest Cogniac, with water, made counsel was, and impossible, as one as hot as the convalescent can bear should think, to be missed on,-shall it. Where he findeth, as in the case I confess ?-in this emergency, it was of my friend, a squeamish subject, to me as if an Angel had spoken. he condescendeth to be the taster; Great previous exertions—and mine and showeth, by his own example, had not been inconsiderable are the innocuous nature of the precommonly followed by a debility of scription. Nothing can be more kind purpose. This was a moment of ir- or encouraging than this procedure. resolution. It addeth confidence to the patient, Monoculus-for so, in default of to see his medical adviser go hand in catching his true name, I choose to hand with himself in the remedy. designate the medical gentleman who When the doctor swalloweth his own now appeared—is a grave middle- draught, what peevish invalid can aged person, who, without having refuse to pledge him in the potion? studied at the college, or truckled to In fine, Monoculus is a humane, the pedantry of a diploma, hath em- sensible man, who, for a slender pitployed a great portion of his valuable tance, scarce enough to sustain life, time in experimental processes upon is content to wear it out in the enthe bodies of unfortunate fellow- deavour to save the lives of otherscreatures, in whom the vital spark, his pretensions so moderate, that to mere vulgar thinking, would seem with difficulty I could press a crown extinct, and lost for ever. He omit- upon him, for the price of restoring teth no occasion of obtruding his ser- the existence of such an invaluable vices, from a case of common sur- creature to society as G. D. feit-suffocation to the ignobler ob- It was pleasant to observe the efstructions, sometimes induced by a fect of the subsiding alarm upon the too wilful application of the plant nerves of the dear absentee. It seemCannabis outwardly. But though heed to have given a shake to memory, declineth not altogether these drier calling up notice after notice, of all extinctions, his occupation tendeth the providential deliverances he had for the most part to water-practice; experienced in the course of his long for the convenience of which, he and innocent life. Sitting up in hath judiciously fixed his quarters my couch-my couch which, naked near the grand repository of the and void of furniture hitherto, for stream mentioned, where, day and the salutary repose which it adnight, from his little watch-tower, at ministered, shall be honoured with the Middleton's Head, he listeneth to costly valance, at some price, and detect the wrecks of drowned more henceforth be a state-bed at Coletality-partly, as he saith, to be brook, he discoursed of marvellous upon the spot-and partly, because escapes--by carelessness of nurses the liquids which he useth to pre- by pails of gelid, and kettles of the scribe to himself and his patients, on boiling element, in infancy-by ore these distressing occasions, are ordi- chard pranks, and snapping twigs, narily more conveniently to be found in schoolboy frolics—by descent of at these common hostelries, than in tiles at Trumpington, and heavier the shops and phials of the apothe- tomes at Pembroke -by studious caries. His ear hath arrived to such watchings, inducing frightful vigifinesse by practice, that it is report- lance-by want, and the fear of want, ed, he can distinguish a plunge at a and all the sore throbbings of the furlong and a half distance; and can learned head.—Anon, he would burst tell, if it be casual or deliberate. He out into little fragments of chaunts weareth a medal, suspended over a ing—of songs long ago-ends of de suit, originally of a sad brown, but liverance-hymns, not remembered which, by time, and frequency of before since childhood, but coming * nightly divings, has been dinged into up now, when his heart was made a true professional sable. He passeth tender as a child's--for the tremor by the name of Doctor, and is re- cordis, in the retrospect of a recent markable for wanting his left eye. deliverance, as in a case of impendHis remedy-after a sufficient appli- ing danger, acting upon an innocent a head, all the waves go over me. Selah." Then I have before me Palinurus, just letting go the steerage. I cry out too late to save. Next follow-a mournful procession-suicidal faces, saved against their wills from drowning; dolefully trailing a length of reluctant gratefulness, with ropy weeds pendant from locks of watchet hue-constrained LazariPluto's half-subjects- stolen fees from the grave - bilking Charon of his fare. At their head Arion -or is it G. D.?-in his singing garments marcheth singly, with harp in hand, and votive garland, which Machaon (or Doctor Hawes) snatcheth straight, intending to suspend it to the stern God of Sea. Then follow dismal streams of Lethe, in which the half-drenched on earth are constrained to drown downright, by wharfs where Ophelia twice acts her muddy death. And, doubtless, there is some notice in that invisible world, when one of us approacheth (as my friend did so lately) to their inexorable precincts. When a soul knocks once, twice, at death's door, the sensation aroused within the palace must be considerable; and the grim Feature, by modern science so often dispossessed of his prey, must have learned by this time to pity Tantalus. A pulse assuredly was felt along the line of the Elysian shades, when the near arrival of G. D. was announced by no equivocal indications. From their seats of Asphodel arose the gentler and the graver ghostspoet, or historian-of Grecian or of Roman lore-to crown with unfading chaplets the half-finished love-labours of their unwearied scholiast, Him Markland expected-him Tyrwhitt hoped to encounter-him the sweet lyrist of Peter House, whom he had barely seen upon earth,* with newest airs prepared to greet and, patron of the gentle Christ's-boy, ; heart, will produce a self-tenderness, which we should do ill to christen cowardice; and Shakspeare, in the latter crisis, has made his good Sir Hugh to remember the sitting by Babylon, and to mutter of shallow rivers. Waters of Sir Hugh Middleton,what a spark you were like to have extinguished for ever! Your salubrious streams to this City, for now near two centuries, would hardly have atoned for what you were in a moment washing away. Mockery of a river-liquid artifice-wretched conduit! henceforth rank with canals, and sluggish aqueducts. Was it for this, that, smit in boyhood with the explorations of that Abyssinian traveller, I paced the vales of Amwell to explore your tributary springs, to trace your salutary waters through green Hertfordshire, and cultured Enfield parks?-Ye have no swans-no naiads-no river God-or did the benevolent hoary aspect of my friend tempt ye to suck him in, that ye also might have the tutelary genius of your waters? Had he been drowned in Cam, there would have been some consonancy in it; but what willows had ye to wave and rustle over his moist sepulture?—or, having no name, besides that unmeaning assumption of eternal novity, did ye think to get one by the noble prize, and henceforth to be termed the STREAM DYERIAN? And could such spacious virtue find a grave Beneath the imposthumed bubble of a wave? I protest, George, you shall not venture out again-no, not by daylight-without a sufficient pair of spectacles-in your musing moods especially. Your absence of mind we have borne, till your presence of body came to be called in question by it. You shall not go wandering into Euripus with Aristotle, if we can help it. Fie, man, to turn dip per at your years, after your many tracts in favour of sprinkling only! I have nothing but water in my head o' nights since this frightful accident. Sometimes I am with Clarence in his dream. At others, I behold Christian beginning to sink, and crying out to his good brother Hopeful (that is me), " I sink in deep waters; the billows go over my who should have been his patron through life-the mild Askew, with longing aspirations, leaned foremost from his venerable Esculapian chair, to welcome into that happy company the matured virtues of the man, whose tender scions in the boy he himself upon earth had so prophetically fed and watered. * GRAIUM tantùm vidit. ELIA. RHODES'S PEAK SCENERY.. We have several reasons for liking which we possess in nature and in this work: Derbyshire is a romantic art, has long been a reproach to Enregion, of which we can never know too gland. A spirit is rising which we much. A clever tour, illustrated by hope will cast open the gallery doors the pencil of Chantrey, and the graver of our gentry and nobility, and inof George Cooke, is no common mat- dulge us with a look at those longter; and the whole is the production locked-up treasures of sculpture and of a man who has brought abundance painting--the admiration of all who of enthusiasm and knowledge to the have the power to soothe or charm task. Though we have no wish that the surly pride of the proprietors. all the green hills, and stone troughs, The doors of some of our private and curious nooks, in the country, galleries are occasionally opened, it should be drawn and engraved—nor is true—but they are opened with a that enthusiasm, and research, and reluctant hand; and the disagreeable old world knowledge, should be pour- tax of seeking tickets of introduction ed out, without stint or limit, on our is put in force with those who ought dells and mountains, and rocks and to be courted to the contemplation of ruins ; yet we love a work which works of art. To write to my lord, singles out what is elegant in art, to explain your name and bearing, and impressive in nature and some- and beg to be honoured with a ticket, thing like this is the tour of Rhodes. is a kind of prostration to which He has had the good fortune-or let pride equal to a lord's is not willing us not wrong him—the good sense, to submit-and if submission is made, to select the most picturesque and an indulgence is only granted for a beautiful scenes, and the skill to show sweet and a sun-shiny day. A man's them before us with much felicity admiration of art must be great who both of pen and pencil. can endure all this. France, vain When we say that we wish he had and superficial France—and Italy, been a little more sparing of his sun- base and unmanly Italy, excel us in shine, and more frugal of quotation, this: in England we can obtain no we only mean with respect to parti- pleasure without taxation; and the cular passages : he quotes, it is true, tax which vanity and opulence lay on from Shakspeare, Milton, Scott, and honest pride is the hardest of all. Montgomery—but we tire of quota- All other countries are before ustions, however excellent, and sigh for not only in the grace of opening with less familiar enjoyments. Nor are a smiling look the doors of their colwe sure that the language is not a lections—but in the commodity of art little too cumbrous occasionally-but itself, and in the encouragement given who can be prudent and prosaic, to men of genius. To genius our golooking on such a land? The land vernment has never given much encouwhere Hobbes studied, Congreve ragement: and the works of art sancsung, Rousseau resided, and Mary of tioned by our committees of national Scotland languished in prison, ought taste are the worst we possess, and not to be spoken of in the common encumber, rather than ornament, St. work-day language of the world. Paul's. Government has printed no There are many curious narratives, expensive books—made no expensive and anecdotes, and scraps of biogra- series of medals-collected no expenphy, scattered about the volumes : sive paintings—built no grand and the account of the Plague of Eyam is lasting edifice. Waterloo Bridge and perhaps the most touching: the me- Stone Henge are the only works we moir of Chantrey, the Sculptor-a possess which promise to endure: native of Norton, will probably be the man who built the former went read by all who love to contemplate to the grave with a plain Mister to the first dawn and development of his name—the man who contracted genius. for the materials was knighted—but The want of works of this kind, he bears his honours meekly. capable of conveying to other coun- When we say we that have no works tries a knowledge of the treasures like the French Museum, nor like the * Rhodes's Peak Scenery, or Excursions in Derbyshire, 2 Vols. 4to. London, 1823. engravings of the Italian collections, many noble mansions, and so many it may be well supposed that we are green hills, subscribe for some sixty pleased with labours which seem copies—while little smoky and meas it were the dawn to a succession chanical Sheffield subscribes for of British works. But we are afraid seventy-five. We love the little town the danger of great pecuniary loss, for this-we love it because it beats and the little hope of gain, may for a Birmingham in the manufacture of time interpose between us and such good steel-bladed knives, and the productions. Look at the list of sub- lords and princes of Derbyshire in scribers for the Peak Scenery, and the love of literature and art and the see how cold and insensible the rich beauties of the Peak Scenery. Let and the high-blooded lords and gen- all writers of verse and prose hencetlemen of Derbyshire are to the ro- forth mend their pens with knives of mantic and far-famed beauties of Sheffield make. their own county. The lords of so DON SAAVEDRA: A DRAMATIC STORY. Scene.—Part of a Field of Battle. (Alarm within.) Now gild your blades ! strike, strike for liberty, St. Jago and Close Spain ! Beat down the Christian dogs! Great Alla, hear- Or famine strips your bones ! With pity on thy people: guide their swords O, my poor countrymen! Nerve thou thy followers' arms: let them reek blood, Hurrah ! (Dies.) The Spaniard. O Spain! (Dies.) Enter Don SAAVEDRA, a wounded Knight ; led in by CYNTHIO, his Squire. Saavedra. Prythee, begone; thy tenderness is wearisome : Fall here, Saavedra !-Prythee, away, away ; Wilt thou not let me die? His blood-wet sheet athwart our western sky; When black Alhambra spurn'd them from the field ? But sweet my lord- Graced like my peers with honourable wounds: O chivalry thy bloom and flower is gone; Your rocks, and toppling cliffs, and earth-bound pines, My voice in their still clamour,-ye loud cataracts, Miramolin to th' earth? Heav'n winks at sacrilege,---- Cynthio. Dear master, sit you down, And let me bind your wounds. Saavedra. Scars! scars! not wounds; I bleed with far more fatal wounds than these. Cynthio. Where, my lord? where? Saavedra. Why, in the heart, the heart; Not mortal to the life, but to the soul. Cynthio. Come, thine arm; In faith, you must; nay now-no more-why master Linten was made to staunch Saavedra. Is suitor to that deed: away Cynthio. (Taking his arm.) Away! my sword ! And here's a balsam, Brew'd by a cunning eremite from juices Saavedra. O, never! never! Cynthio. Nay, if her wilful sons Die in despite as you do-Come, come, come, (Taking off his glaive.) The suicide doth stab the common-weal "The common-weal"-blow soft, ye freshening gales!→→ |