The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 14, No. 382, July 25, 1829

A REAL MIRACLE

The fable of Dr. Southey's Pilgrim of Compostella, is as follows:—

A family set forth from Aquitaine to visit the shrine of St. James, at Compostella, whither, according to the Catholic faith, the decapitated body of that saint was conveyed from Palestine, (miraculously of course,) in a ship of marble. At a certain small town by the way, their son Pierre is tempted by the innkeeper's daughter. Like a second Joseph, he resists the immodest damsel; like Potiphar's wife, she converts her love to hate, and accuses the virtuous youth of a capital crime. Her false oaths prevail, and he is condemned to the gallows. Rejoicing in his martyred innocence, he exhorts his parents to pursue their pilgrimage, and pray for the peace of his soul. Sorrowing, they proceed, and returning, find their son hanging by the neck alive, and singing psalms—in no actual pain—but naturally desirous to be freed from his extraordinary state of suspended animation. They repair to the chief magistrate of the town, by whose authority the youth was executed—find his worship at dinner—relate the wonderful preservation of their son—and request that he may be restored. The magistrate is incredulous, and declares that he would sooner believe that the fowls on which he was dining would rise again in full feather. The miracle is performed. The cock and hen spring from the ocean of their own gravy, clacking and crowing, with all appurtenances of spur, comb, and feather. Pierre, of course, is liberated, and declared innocent. The cock and hen become objects of veneration—live in a state of chastity—and are finally translated—leaving just two eggs, from which arise another immaculate cock and hen. The breed is perhaps still in existence, and time hath been, that a lucrative trade was carried on in their feathers!!!—Ibid..

THE GATHERER

 
A snapper up of unconsidered trifles.
 

SHAKSPEARE.

Of Hogarth's first attempt at satire, the following story is related by Nichols, who had it from one of Hogarth's fellow workmen. "One summer Sunday, during his apprenticeship, he went with three companions to Highgate, and the weather being warm and the way dusty, they went into a public house, and called for ale. There happened to be other customers in the house, who to free drinking added fierce talking, and a quarrel ensued. One of them on receiving a blow with the bottom of a quart pot, looked so ludicrously rueful, that Hogarth snatched out a pencil and sketched him as he stood. It was very like and very laughable, and contributed to the restoration of order and good humour."

THE "GOOD BOY" LOVER

"When I was a lad," said a facetious gentleman to the recorder of the anecdote, "I was, or rather fancied myself to be, desperately in love with a very charming young lady. Dining at her parents' house one day, I was unfortunately helped to the gizzard of a chicken, attached to one of the wings. Aware, like most 'good boys' that it was extremely ungenteel to leave anything upon my plate, and being over anxious to act with etiquette and circumspection in this interesting circle, I, as a 'good boy' wished strictly to conform myself to the rules of good breeding. But the gizzard of a fowl! Alas! it was impossible! how unfortunate! I abhorred it! No, I could not either for love or money have swallowed such a thing! So, after blushing, playing with the annoyance, and casting many a side-long glance to see if I was observed, I contrived at length to roll it from my plate into my mouchoir, which I had placed on my knees purposely for its reception; the next minute all was safely lodged in my pocket. Conversing with the object of my affections, during the evening, in a state of nervous forgetfulness, I drew forth my handkerchief, and in a superb flourish, out flew the GIZZARD! Good heavens! my fair one stared, coloured, laughed; I was petrified; away flew my ecstatic dreams; and out of the house I flung myself without one 'au revoir,' but with a consciousness of the truth of that delectable ballad which proclaims, that 'Love has EYES!!' I thought no more of love in that quarter, believe me!" M.L.B.

ADMIRAL RODNEY

During the heat of the memorable battles with Count de Grasse, of April 9th and 12th, 1782, the gallant Rodney desired his young aid-de-camp (Mr. Charles Dashwood⁹) to make him a glass of lemonade, the ingredients for which were at hand. Not having any thing to stir it with but a knife, already discoloured by the cutting of the lemon, Sir George coolly said, on Mr. Dashwood presenting it to him, "Child, that may do for a midshipman, but not for an admiral—take it yourself, and send my servant to me." C.C.

EXPRESSIVE WORDS

I knew very well a French Chevalier, who on coming to England, applied himself with amazing ardour to the study of our language, and his remarks upon it, if not always very acute were at least entertaining. One day, reading aloud an English work, he stopped at the word SPLASH; expressed himself highly delighted with it, as a term, which minutely described the thing meant; then repeating it many times with marked pleasure, and a strong sibillation, he added, "No! no! dere is noting at all, noting in my language dat de same would be like splash!" Perhaps the following sentence from the satire of a notorious wit in Elizabeth's reign, is a fair specimen of those expressive words which paint, the object of which they speak:—"To which place, Gabriel came, ruffling it out, hufty-tufty, in his new suit of velvet." The man was vain; the writer has made him a peacock. M.L.B.

I would no more bring a new work out in summer than I would sell pork in the dog-days.—Bookseller in Cit. World.