The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 13, No. 368, May 2, 1829
TekstSTEALING A SHEET
A bet was laid by a gentleman that he would procure an Indian thief who should steal the sheet from under a person without waking him. The thing was effected in the following manner:—the Bheel approaching the person, who lay on his side, from behind, carefully folded up the sheet in small compact plaits till it reached his back; then, taking a feather, he tickled the nose of the sleeper, who immediately scratched his face and rolled over on the other side, when with a slight effort he completely released the sheet, and bore it off in triumph.—Twelve Years' Military Adventures.
EDUCATION AND AMUSEMENTS OF THE LOWER CLASSES
A correspondent of the Gardener's Magazine observes that "next to the existing school societies, there is nothing I am more anxious to see, or would more gladly contribute to, than a Society for promoting the Rational Amusements of the Lower Classes, the first aim of which should be to instruct itinerant teachers of music, singing, and dancing, in improved modes of imparting their arts, and thus fairly set the plan agoing, when it would soon work its own way, and might then be extended to higher objects. The taste for flowers among the Paisley weavers, for gooseberry-growing at Manchester, and for music among the west of Yorkshire clothiers, originally sprang up from imitation of one or two amateurs of each pursuit; and there only needs a similar first impulse, which a society with a few thousands a year might give, to spread a general taste for music, singing, and dancing, and ultimately for other branches of the fine arts, as drawing and painting, as well as for natural history, and the cultivation of flowers and fruits, &c.
"The lower classes in England, thus improved in morals and manners by a better education and more humanising amusements, might be safely left to choose their time of contracting marriage, and would then no more make beasts of themselves by drinking fermented liquors, than do the lower classes in the city from which I write, (Brussels) where probably more beer (and that by no means weak) is drank than in any town of similar size in England, every street being crowded with cabarets (public-houses,) and these in the evening almost always filled. But how filled? Not with rioters and noisy drunkards, but with parties at separate tables, often consisting of a man, his wife and children, all sipping their pot of beer poured into very small glasses to prolong the pleasure, and the gratification of drinking seeming less than that of the cheerful chit-chat, which is the main object of the whole assemblage. Deep-rooted national bad habits can be eradicated only by the spread of knowledge, which will ultimately teach our lower classes, as it has already done the bulk of the higher, that moderation is the condition of real enjoyments, and must be the motto even of the sensualist who aims at long-continued indulgence."
THE GATHERER
"A snapper-up of unconsidered trifles."
SHAKSPEARE.
TOAST
The Parting toast at one of the old gaming-houses in Marybone was "May as many of us as remain unhanged next spring, meet here again."
EPIGRAM
Translated from the French of Mr. Patris, who composed it a few days before his death. By J.C.
Last night I dreamt that worn away
With sickness, I was dead,
And that my carcass, cheek by jowl,
Was by a poor man's laid.
My stomach rose, methought, to see
The wretch so near me lie,
And straight his sauciness I chid,
Like corpse of quality.
Scoundrel, cried I, move farther off,
And give your betters room,
Avaunt, you scrub, and rot elsewhere,
Foh! how you stink and fume.
Scrub! quoth the saucy dog, that's well,
Pray who's more scrub than you?
Bethink you, Mr., where you are,
And do not rant it so.
Hither on equal terms all come,
Here's neither rich nor poor,
My muck's my own, and be assur'd,
That your's can be no more.
SONG
Oh, yes! I always dream of her,
But never breathe her name;
Her spirit always dwells with me,
By night, by day the same!
The cheerful smile no more is mine;
I sorrow and regret;
I strive in vain to banish love,
But still I can't forget.
My friends may try to rally me,
And chase my grief away;
I smile in sadness while they laugh,
But heed not what they say.
They must not know how deep I love,
Nor win my secret yet;
And when I smile amid the scene,
'Tis not that I forget.
My lips can never break the spell;
Her name is buried here!
And yet perchance she may bedew
My coffin with a tear!
But if in climes away from her
The sun of life should set,
Her name will quiver on my lip,
When I the world forget.
Z
EPITAPH IN AWLISCOMBE CHURCHYARD, DEVONSHIRE
Here lie the remains of James Pady,
brickmaker, late of this parish, in hopes
that his clay will be remoulded in a workmanlike
manner, far superior to his former
perishable materials.
Keep death and judgment always in your eye,
Or else the devil off with you will fly,
And in his kiln with brimstone ever fry.
If you neglect the narrow road to seek,
Christ will reject you like a half-burnt brick.
Awliscombe.
J.S
In the sea-fight off Minorca, in 1756, a gunner had his right hand shot off, just as he was going to fire off a gun. The brave fellow took up the match, saying, quite unconcernedly, "So then you thought that I had but one arm."
FLOWERS
With each expanding flower we find
Some pleasing sentiment combin'd;
Love in the myrtle bloom is seen,
Remembrance to the violet clings,
Peace brightens in the olive green,
Hope from the half-closed iris springs,
Victory from the laurel grows,
And woman blushes in the rose.
GOOD MORROW, A SONG
Fly, night, away!
And welcome day!
With night we banish sorrow;
Sweet air, blow soft,
Sunshine aloft,
To give my love good morrow!
Wings from the wind
To please her mind,
Notes from the lark I'll borrow;
Lark, stretch thy wing,
And tow'ring sing,
To give my love good morrow!
Ye violets blue,
Sweet drops of dew,
That shine in every furrow,
Fresh odours fling
On zephyr's wing,
To give my love good morrow!
Bright Venus, spare
Awhile thy car,
Thy Cupid, dove, and sparrow,
To waft my fair,
Like my own star,
To give the world good morrow!
G.R
The great Duke of Marlborough, who was, perhaps, the most accomplished gentleman of his age, would never suffer any approaches to obscenity in his presence; and it was said, by Lord Cobham, that he did not reprove it as an immorality in the speaker, but resented it as an indignity to himself; and it is evident, that to speak evil of the absent, to utter lewdness, blasphemy, or treason, must degrade not only him who speaks, but those who hear; for surely that dignity of character, which a man ought always to sustain, is in danger, when he is made the confidant of treachery, detraction, impiety, or lust; for he who in conversation displays his own vices, imputes them; as he who boasts of a robbery to another, presupposes that he is a thief.—Hawkesworth.
Silence in love bewrays more woe
Than words, tho' ne'er so witty;
A beggar that is dumb, you know,
May challenge double pity.
Sir W. Raleigh.
TO SUBSCRIBERS
For the convenience of such of our Country Subscribers as may experience any difficulty in procuring the Numbers, we beg to apprize them, that the Monthly Part is ready for delivery with the Magazines, and may be procured by giving an order to any Provincial Bookseller.