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credulity, whenever, in the course of this authentic history, they encounter the uncommon circumstance of a governor acting with independence, and in opposition to the opinions of the multitude.

To assist the doubtful Wouter in the arduous business of legislation, a board of inagistrates was appointed, which presided immediately over the police. This potent body consisted of a schout or bailiff, with powers between those of the present mayor and sheriff-five burgermeesters, who were equivalent to aldermen, and five schepens, who officiated as scrubs, subdevils, or bottleholders to the burgermeesters, in the same manner as do assistant aldermen to their principals at the present day; it being their duty to fill the pipes of the lordly burgermeesters-hunt the markets for delicacies for corporation dinners, and to discharge such other little offices of kindness as were occasionally required. It was, morever, tacitly understood, though not specifically enjoined, that they should consider themselves as butts for the blunt wits of the burgermeesters, and should laugh most heartily at all their jokes; but this last was a duty as rarely called in action in those days as it is at present, and was shortly remitted, in consequence of the tragical death of a fat little schepen-who actually died of suffocation in an unsuccessful effort to force a laugh at one of burgermeester Van Zandt's best jokes.

the body, like melted lead to the clay in | diaphragm-disposing their possessor to
which it is cast, has been insisted on by many laughter, good humour, and a thousand
philosophers, who have made human nature friendly offices towards his fellow mortals.
their peculiar study-For as a learned gentle- "As a board of magistrates, formed on
man of our own city observes, there is a con- this model, think but very little, they are
stant relation between the moral character of the less likely to differ and wrangle about
all intelligent creatures, and their physical favourite opinions and as they generally
constitution-between their habits and the transact business upon a hearty dinner, they
structure of their bodies.' Thus we see, are naturally disposed to be lenient and in-
that a lean, spare, diminutive body, is gene-dulgent in the administration of their duties.
rally accompanied by a petulant, restless, Charlemagne was conscious of this, and,
meddling mind-either the mind wears down therefore, (a pitiful measure, for which Í
the body, by its continual motion; or else can never forgive him) ordered in his cartu-
the body, not affording the mind sufficient laries, that no judge should hold a court of
house-room, keeps it continually in a state of justice, except in the morning, on an empty
fretfulness, tossing and worrying about from stomach: a rule which, I warrant, bore hard
the uneasiness of its situation. Whereas upon all the poor culprits in his kingdom.
your round, sleek, fat, umwieldly periphery | The more enlightened and humane genera-
is ever attended by a mind like itself, tran- tion of the present day have taken an oppo-
quil, torpid, and at ease; and we may site course, and have so managed, that thǝ
always observe, that your well fed, robus- aldermen are the best fed men in the com-
tious burghers, are in general very tenacious munity; feasting lustily on the fat things of
of their ease and comfort; being great ene- the land, and gorging so heartily oysters and
mies to noise, discord, and disturbance-and turtles, that in process of time they acquire
surely none are more likely to study the the activity of the one, and the form, the
public tranquillity than those who are so waddle, and the green fat of the other. The
careful of their own. Who ever hears of fat consequence is, as I have just said, these
men heading a riot, or herding together in luxurious feastings do produce such a dulcet
turbulent mobs ?-no-no-it is your lean, equanimity and repose of the soul, rational and
hungry men, who are continually worrying irrational, that their transactions are pro-
society, and setting the whole community by verbial for unvarying monotony and the
the ears.
profound laws, which they enact in their
dozing moments, amid the labours of diges-
tion, are quietly suffered to remain as dead
letters, and never enforced when awake. In
a word, your fair round-bellied burgomaster,
like a full-fed mastiff, dozes quietly at the
house-door, always at home, and always at
hand to watch over his safety-but as to
electing a lean, meddling candidate to the
office, as has now and then been done, I
I would as lief put a greyhound to watch the
house, or a race horse to drag an ox-

"The divine Plato, whose doctrines are "In return for these humble services, they not sufficiently attended to by the philosowere permitted to say yes and no at the phers of the present age, allows to every man council board, and to have that enviable pri- three souls one immortal and rational, vilege, the run of the public kitchen-being seated in the brain, that it may overlook and graciously permitted to eat, and drink, and regulate the body-a second consisting of the smoke, at all those snug junketings, and surly and irascible passions, which, like bellipublic gormandizings, for which the ancient gerent powers, lie encamped around the inagistrates were equally famous with their heart-a third mortal and sensual, destitute modern successors. The post of schepen, of reason, gross and brutal in its propensities, therefore, like that of assistant alderman, was and enchained in the belly, that it may not eagerly coveted by all your burghers of a disturb the divine soul by its ravenous howlcertain description, who have a huge relish ings. Now, according to this excellent for good feeding, and an humble ambition to theory, what can be more clear, than that be great men, in a small way-who thirst your fat alderman is most likely to have the after a little brief authority, that shall render most regular and well-conditioned mind? them the terror of the almshouse, and the His head is like a huge spherical chamber, bridewell-that shall enable them to lord it containing a prodigious mass of soft brains, over obsequious poverty, vagrant vice, out- whereon the rational soul lies softly and cast prostitution, and hunger-driven dis- snugly couched, as on a feather bed: and the honesty that shall give to their beck a eyes, which are the windows of the bedhound-like pack of catch-poles and buin-chamber, are usually half closed, that its bailiffs-tenfold greater rogues than the cul- slumberings may not be disturbed by exprits they hunt down!-My readers will ternal objects. A mind thus comfortably excuse this sudden warmth, which I confess lodged, and protected from disturbance, is is unbecoming of a grave historian-but I manifestly most likely to perform its funchave a mortal antipathy to catch-poles, buin- tions with regularity and ease. By dint of hailiffs, and little great men. good feeding, moreover, the mortal and maThe ancient magistrates of this city cor-lignant soul, which is confined in the belly, responded with those of the present time no less in form, magnitude, and intellect, than in prerogative and privilege. The burgomasters, like our aldermen, were generally chosen by weight and not only the weight of the body, but likewise the weight of the head. It is a maxim practically observed in all honest, plain thinking, regular cities, that an alderman should be fat-and the wisdom of this can be proved to a certainty. That the body is in some measure an image of the inind, or rather that the mind is mouldedto

and which, by its raging and roaring, puts
the irritable soul in the neighbourhood of
the heart in an intolerable passion, and
thus renders men crusty and quarrelsome
when hungry, is completely pacified, si-
lenced, and put to rest-whereupon a host
of honest good-fellow qualities and kind-
hearted affections, which had lain perdue,
slily peeping out of the loop-holes of the
heart, finding this Cerberus asleep, do pluck
up their spirits, turn out one and all in their
holiday suits, and gambol up and down the

waggon.

"The burgomasters, then, as I have already mentioned, were wisely chosen by weight, and the schepens, or assistant aldermen, were appointed to attend upon them, and help them eat; but the latter, in the course of time, when they had been fed and fattened into sufficient bulk of body and drowsiness of brain, became very eligible candidates for the burgomasters' chairs, having fairly eaten themselves into office, as lodgment in a goodly, blue-nozed, skimmed a mouse eats his way into a comfortable milk, New-England cheese."

We should have been glad to prolong these spirited examples; but the doings of Walter the Doubter, William the Testy, and Peter the Headstrong, the three Dutch governors of New Amsterdam, would lead us into a field so wide that it would expose our review, comparatively, to the same objection of prolixity which we have alledged against the work in hand. To avoid this fault we shall conclude, with one quotation more, from the finale, viz. an account of the terms upon which the city ultimately surren

dered to its besiegers, thereby termi- A Day in Autumn; a Poem, by Bernard nating the first dynasty.

Barton. London and Woodbridge,
1820. Small 4to. pp. 31.

And, now and then, be with those breezes
brought

A murmur musical, of winds conceal'd
In coy recesses, by escape reveal'd:-

And, ever and anon, still deeper tcne
Of winter's gathering dirge, at distance peal'd,
By harps and hands unseen; and only

known

some enthusiast's ear when worshipping

alone.

No more of invocation! Bright the day
Arose; as if the glorious sun were bent,
(Like some proud monarch, whose declining

sway

Is still majestic and magnificent,)
On once more filling his own firmament
With undiminish'd splendour:-

The last image is grand, and indeed the whole passage beautiful, in spite of the expressions upon which we have passed the censure of italics.

The kind-heartedness of the writer shines in a comment upon the scriptural account of the woman who poured ointment on the head

of Christ.

While all these woful struggles and disIn the Literary Gazette of the 22d of sensions were prevailing in the unhappy city of New Amsterdam, and while its worthy but last April, we introduced this author to ill-starred governor was framing the above our readers as a Quaker bard of no quoted letter, the English commanders did mean pretensions. Slight as his new To not remain idle. They had agents secretly work is, in our opinion it will enhance employed to foment the fears and clamours of the populace; and moreover circulated his poetical fame: for it displays many far and wide, through the adjacent country, beauties of a fine order, and is stamped a proclamation, repeating the terms they had throughout with traits of genius a like realready held out in their summons to sur-mote from extravagance and mediorender, and beguiling the simple Neder- crity. Amiable feeling, a pure sense landers with the most crafty and conciliating of nature, a heart right toned, and a professions. They promised that every man head well regulated, are visible in every who voluntarily submitted to the authority verse; and it is to us a sincere gratifiof his British majesty, should retain peaceable possession of his house, his vrouw, and cation to find the higher conceptions of his cabbage garden. That he should be suf- the muse thus linked with the better fered to smoke his pipe, speak Dutch, wear principles of morality; harmony and as many breeches as he pleased, and import grace enlisted in the cause of virtue, bricks, tiles, and stone jugs from Holland, and our pleasures from an effusion of instead of manufacturing them on the spot. fancy, not too dearly purchased by the That he should on no account be compelled consciousness that, while we are delightto learn the English language, or keep accounts in any other way than by casting ing our imaginations we are tainting our them up on his fingers, and chalking them minds. down upon the crown of his hat; as is still observed among the Dutch yeomanry at the present day. That every man should be allowed quietly to inherit his father's hat, coat, shoe-buckles, pipe, and other personal appendage; and that no man should be obliged to conform to any improvements, inventions, or any other modern innovations; but on the contrary should be permitted to build his house, follow his trade, manage his farm, rear his hogs, and educate his children, precisely as his ancestors did before him since time immemorial-Finally, that he should have all the benefits of free trade, and should not be required to acknowledge any other saint in the calendar than St. Nicholas, who should thenceforward, as before, be considered the tutelar saint of the city.

every

These terms, as may be supposed, appeared very satisfactory to the people, who had a great disposition to enjoy their property unmolested, and a most singular aversion to engage in a contest, where they could gain little more than honour and broken heads-the first of which they held in philosophic indifference, the latter in utter detestation. By these insidious means, therefore, did the English succeed in alienating the confidence and affections of the populace from their gallant old governor, whom they considered as obstinately bent upon running them into hideous misadventures; and did not hesitate to speak their minds freely, and abuse him most heartily-behind his back.

But the philanthropy and tenderness, as well as the skill and talent of the author, will better appear from his composition than our commendation; and we proceed to lay specimens of the DAY in AUTUMN before the public.

In a dedication to Mr. Southey, Mr. Barton states his view of the subject, and elsewhere, in the poem itself, further says:

I took my pen up, in no formal fit,

The feelings of a few bright hours to scan; And as they rise I trace their course as best I can. There is however a regular, and what is preferable, a very sweet invocation, with which he commences; and we shall produce it as a truly poetical description of the season which gives the poem its name.

Of

Autumn! soul soothing season, thou who
spreadest

Thy lavish feast for every living thing,
Around whose leaf-strew'd path, as on thou
treadest,

The year its dying odours loves to fling,
Their last faint fragrance sweetly scattering:-
O! let thy influence, meek, inajestic, holy,
So consciously around my spirit cling,

That its fix'd frame may be, remote from
folly,

sober thought combin'd with gentle melan-
choly.

O! how that action, 'mid the chronicle

Of darkest crimes, with which the chapter teems, Shines forth, with lustre inexpressible, Unearthly brightness shedding from its beams,

All uneclips'd its gentle glory seems

By the dense clouds that wrap our lower sphere;

We turn to it, from those more painful themes,

ISCARIOT's treachery, and PETER'S fear, The Priest's hypocrisy, the Soldier's cruel

sneer;

From such we turn to it, as to a thing

Gentle, compassionate, pure, holy, good! And the heart's better feelings, as they cling Unto its memory, lead us, as they should, To genuine virtue's most congenial mood; Not taught by speculative creeds, which draw

The mind's attention from its heavenly food;

We feel this truth impress'd, with holy awe, That LovE is in itself fulfilment of God's law!

Tell me, thou strenuous advocate of creeds,

Dogmas, and systems; overlooking still Those milder charities, and christian deeds Without which faith is dead:-with all thy

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Know'st thou not this-the LETTER can but kill,

The SPIRIT giveth life?-O! far above The proudest theorists, does he fulfil

The precepts of our faith, whose actions
prove
That he has learnt aright this truth-that GoD
is LOVE!

But to return to the Day: the following
thought, if not new, is prettily turned:
The bright sun threw his glory all around,
And then the balmy, mild, autumnal breeze
Swept, with a musical, and fitful sound,

Like as a mighty grampus, who, though assailed and buffetted by roaring waves and brawling surges, still keeps on an undeviating course; and though overwhelmed by boisterous billows, still emerges from the troubled deep, spouting and blowing with tenfold violence-so did the inflexible Peter pursue, unwavering, his determined career, and rise, contemptuous, above the clamours of the rabble.

If, in the morning of my life, to Spring
I paid my homage with a heart elate;
And with each fluttering insect on the wing,
Or small bird, singing to his happy mate,
And Flora's festival, then held in state;-

If joyous sympathy with these was mine,
O! still allow me now to dedicate

To Thee a loftier song:-that tone assign
Unto my murmuring lyre, which Nature gives to

thine.

A tone of thrilling softness, now, as caught
From Night winds sweeping o'er a stubble

field;

Among the fading foliage of the trees; And, now and then, a playful gust would seiz Somg falling leaf, and, like a living thing Which Bits about wherever it may please,

It floated round in many an airy ring, 'Till on the dewy grass it lost its transient wing. The love of poesy-its means and ends, are well pourtrayed.

The Muses are not innately oppos'd

To pure religion-witness Cowper's lyre ; And those more awful visions once disclos'd

To Him, the loftiest of our tuneful choir, Seraphic Milton, whose lips felt the fire Caught from the altar's live coal; prompted whence,

In verse which, although numerous, could not tire,

He sang of themes beyond our finite sense, And pour'd his heavenly song with holy eloquence.

Not that a Poet by his craft is bound

To be for ever harping heavenly themes;
Though palms unfading grow on holy ground,
And at their feet are everlasting streams.
And many a spot with holiest vision teems,
Replete with inspiration: still, we may
Be more familiar with them than beseems

True reverence; and unguardedly betray
The cause we wish to serve by our unworthy lay,
Yet he who scans aright the end for which
The gift of song, if genuine, was bestow'd,
Will ever strain its most commanding pitch
In virtue's praise; and seek to strew the
road

That leads to her immortal, blest abode;

With amaranthine flowers :-even when he plays

With lighter theme, in seeming mirthful

mode,

By nearer objects; there, expanding wide,
And by unclouded sunshine brightly glass'd,"
Flow'd, Orwell! thy serenely rippling
tide :

Hemm'd in by nilly slopes on every side,

Whose tufted woods upon its margin break,
It more resembl'd, as by us descried,

Some quietly reposing inland lake,
Than ocean's briny branch, which ebb and flow
o'ertake.

The farewell to the river Orwell, which
seems endeared by early recollections, is
also natural and affecting.

Farewell! then, and for ever! though thou

must

Be with me as a thing that cannot die,
Until my memory shall resign its trust
Of what life's brightest moments can sup-
ply,

Hopes, friendships, love, that charm'd me
and pass'd by:

Though far apart, perhaps, we may not

sever,

And sometimes I may gaze, with pensive eye,
Upon thy winding shores; yet never, never,
Canst thou re-call again enjoyments fled for

ever!

The sequent lines refer, we presume, to some of the friendly party whose amiable dispositions and cultivated tastes, induce them to regard elegant literature and its

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The Royal Irish Academy have just published the second part of the 13th vol, of their Transactions, which contains the following articles. SCIENCE.-On Voltaic Electricity, by the Rev. T. R. Robinson; on the Changes of the Human Skeleton at different periods of Life, by W. Wallace, M. D.; Method of computing Astronomical Refrac tions near the Horizon, by Professor Brinkley; the Inscription of a regular Polygon of 17 sides in a Circle, by Rev. Fran. Sadler; Method of correcting the approxi mate Elements of the Orbit of a Comet, by And now our morning's ride is ended; past The hour of dinner;-round us gathers eve: Professor Brinkley. POLITE LITERATURE. And he who frames this legend must, at last,Essay on the Life and Writings of Ossian, Of the kind circle round him take his leave. with an Analysis, of his Cynegetics, by the Nor would he foolishly repine, or grieve, Rev. W. H. Drummond. ANTIQUITIES.Though some there be whom he may meet Remarks on a Brass Medal of our Saviour, found at Cork, by H. J. M. Mason; ConEven should it prove so, why should this be-jectures on the Origin of the Oriental Manner

Or nature's loveliness in song pourtrays, His end and aim through all should be the Gi-votaries, with feelings of a more liberal cast ver's praise,

And inexhaustible the beauties are

Of this fair universe.-The boundless main; Heaven's out-stretch'd cope, begemm'd with many a star;

And carth's rich loveliness, plain,

the ample

And stream which marks it like a silver vein;
Mountain, and forest, lake, and water-fall:
Can minstrel e'er want subject for his strain,
While such display their charms so pro-
digal?

Or how, while singing them, forget who form'd

them all?

O Poesy! thou dear delightful art!

Of sciences-by far the most sublime;
Who, acting rightly thy immortal part,

Art virtue's handmaid, censor stern of
crime,
Nature's high priest, and chronicler of time;
The nurse of feeling; the interpreter
Of purest passion : who, in manhood's

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But we have poached beyond what
is fair upon so small a manor of the
Muse; and must depart, especially as
The day is over:-it is night, dark night!

But such as should succeed a day so fair.
Nought is there in its darkness to affright;
No gusty winds of rising storms declare,
But peaceful silence fills the dewy air.
Even such a night as now with voiceless
spell

prime,

In age, or infaucy, alike canst stir The heart's most secret thoughts.

The mind thus alive to the best purposes of poetry, cannot be insensible to the charms of creation: the author glows in their description.

We drove

Through bowering lanes; their lofty trees between,

Whose leaves were ting'd with beauty far

above

Spring's gayest hues, or brightest freshest
green:

Their blending shades of every tint were seen;
Pale amber, half transparent in the ray
Of the bright sun; while others, in his sheen,
Assum'd more gorgeous colours; others

grey,
Wither'd, and lifeless now, bestrew'd our nar-
row way.

Nor was the distant scenery aught surpass'd

Has gather'd round me: can I then forbear,
Ere to my theme I bid a last farewell,
The present hour to paint; NIGHT's calm
delights to tell?

Soul soothing season! period of repose!

Or introverted thought, which day debars;
Can language paint, can poetry disclose,
The magic of thy silence, dews, and stars?
When the loud mirth of day no longer mars
Our better feelings with its empty sound;
When we forget, awhile, the cruel jars
Our souls in worldly intercourse have
found,

How welcome are thy shades, with peaceful
quiet crown'd!

One topic more, Still Night! will yet intrude
Upon my serious thought, while hymning
Thee:-

of Counting from Right to Left, by N. S. Sankey; Observations which accompanied tion of the Academy, by the Rev. R. Walsh; a Hebrew Medal submitted to the InspecDescription of a Rich and Ancient Box, containing a Latin Copy of the Gospels, found on a mountain in the Co. Tipperary, by H. M. Maden; Description of a Drawing in the Red Book, of the Exchequer of Ire land, by the same.

It may be remembered, that some time ago public mention was made of the Hebrew medal above alluded to, as found near Cork; the hypothesis raised upon which was, that it was coeval with the beginning of the Christian era; the head being a bust of our Saviour, and the obverse containing an inscription suitable to a record of that description. We have recently had an opportunity of examining the similar, but more perfect medal of the same kind, of which the account has been laid before the Royal Irish Academy by Dr. Walsh; and as these works are extremely curious, we trust that a brief notice of this specimen may be acceptreaders. It was obtained at Rostock, in able to others besides our numismatological Jew, who prized it as an ancient Christian Lower Saxony, by Dr. Walsh, from a Polish amulet; and sold it as a talisman, more precious to a Christian than to a Hebrew. It seems to be a duplicate of the Cork medal; but the profile is finer, and the legend much

March sale.

It was but yesterday, the anniversary of He had a common-place book too, filled thy once happy jubilee, I passed thy hallow- with many a curious scrap, dearly treasured ed court. The creeping shrub that I have up by this affectionate son. This the senior watched full many a season up-clinging to Richardson had often exhibited at the club thy palace wall, had changed its green leaves at Old Slaughter's. He had crowded it with to the deep ruby and other gem-like hues, notes of many matters, apparently of no various as the painted casements of an an-import to any but himself. The good old cient church, and seemed a memento of de- man, I've heard my uncle Zachary say, fanfunct majesty. cied every one equally far gone in the collecting mania; hence he sometimes interrupted better conversation, which made Hogarth impatient, and utter a thousand pishes and pshaws; for " though he loved the man,” as he used to say, he hated the connoiseur."

66

plainer. It is distinctly as follows; (we glimmering flame; leaving a sweet odour, | hurly-burly among the remnant of the conquote the Hebrew characters in English,) that invites us to prepare. And who that noisseurs and dilletanti, who venture their Meschiach malek ba beshalam veor meadam knew thy virtues, GEORGE! might not ex-venerable faces, muffled in fur, as you have gnashui chai. The Messiah has reigned; he claim-O! that a life as pure as thine, thou seen, trotting against an eastern wind to a came in peace; and being made the light of best of kings, were mine! man, liveth. No vowel points are discernible. The expression of the countenance is beautiful, and the character so pure as to establish a very high state of the arts at the period the die was struck. It is quite the Raphael or Carlo Dolce portrait of Christ. The metal is of a strange mixed composition, paler than common brass, and in colour resembling pure gold, but its specific gravity is infinitely less than even brass ;"zinc seems There, in thy palace garden, a solitary hara constituent part. It is the most sonorous binger of winter sat and sung, whilst the coin we ever met with, which is probably sudden gust hurled the flying leaves from off owing to the presence of a considerable pro-its sanctuary. Sweet Robin! I never heard portion of tin, which gives the sonorous qua- thy plaintive note chaunted so sad and mournlity to the bell metal. Similar medals were fully. not uncommon during the middle ages. Fac similes of seven are handed down by authors, between 1605 and 1702; and five originals are known to be in collections at this day; viz. Mr. Corlett's, at Cork, of brass; Mr. Symmond's, Ensham, of silver; Dr. Clerk, of Millbank, one of brass, and another of copper, and our present subject, belonging to the Rev. R. Walsh, of Glasnevin. By coinparing the plates and these medals, six different impressions are made out. Most of them are, we make no doubt, the fabrication of the latter ages; but we are not sure, that we ought to question the great antiquity of others. An aleph on the right of the bust in Mr. Walsh's, has been construed to be the date of the coin, and to signify, that it was struck the year after the resurrection, to commemorate that miraculous event. This proposition we leave for the learned in such matters to determine; and content ourselves with observing, that the execution is admirable, and corresponds better with the age of Agrippa, than_with the declining arts from Adrian to Leo. X.

Tline and Malnuts.
OR AFTER DINNER CHIT-CHAT.

By a Cockney Grey Beard.

CHAPTER IX.

Old Slaughters. The Plantagenets and the Tudors, ages since, have passed away-the Stuarts too have gone to their rest, whilst the "new family," as I remember them called, so imperceptibly, yet so unremittingly does the sleepless plodder TIME, turn over year by year a new leaf in fate's volume, are already looking old and congenial upon the pages of British history. Yes! when we look back to the first George-he whom the Hanoverians loved, and his adopted subjects reverenced, regretting only, after a long acquaintance, that he was not a Briton born, and pass to his royal son, we who remember him, feel onwards near approaching that brink, beyond which they have sunk-never more to return.

He, the third monarch of that illustrious house, whose lamp of life was lighted but a short season before Old Ephraim's, is quite burnt out, though lengthened to nature's last

The thundering of the drums meanwhile reverberated from old St. James's tower; 'twas like the sounds of former days. The loud word of command, was wafted to me in the northern blast. I heard the close heavy tramp of troops in the tower-court. The sound was like the ghosts of grenadiers that erst "carried arms," dividing off, the loyal centinels-the old king's guard.

Spring shall return, and April showers the creeping shrub shall die a livelier green. The plaintive Robin may tune a sweeter note, and meet another mate; but thy kingly countenance shall never more be seen to smile benignantly from thy crimson throne. The day cleared up. I rambled onward to see what's going on in the improving way of art, and stood in front of Gibbs lofty pile, St. Martin's church. Here, said I, when I am gone, will others see its stately portico, rescued from its hiding place, the proud termination of a vista of magnificent dwellings.

Old dusky St. Martin's-lane! and yet it was but t'other day a new street of some consideration; for many a man of rank and condition resided here. It seems but a span beyond the date of some I remember in my infancy, when it was St. Martin's in the Fields.

The younger Richardson told me his grandfather saw old Stonea buried in funeral pomp in that very church, nearly half a century before the architect of the present structure was born.

Richardson had a multitude of sketches

There is a curious story of Jonathan Richardson and Harry Fielding, which I have heard my uncle relate, but it is too long for this chapter. It was about Richardson's notes to Milton, which he used to read to all comers at Old Slaughter's,f Button's,g and Wills', h He seldom rambled cityways, though sometimes he stepped in at the Rainbow, where he counted a few worthies, or looked in at Dick'sk and gave them a note or two. He would not put his foot on the threshold of the Devil, however, for he thought the sign profane; but more of this hereafter. Fielding would run a furlong to escape him; he called him Doctor Fidget.

George Lambert, the landscape painter, I have heard my great uncle say, was the merriest of fellows, without the least buffoonery. He was frolicsome as Rochester, and satirical as Shaftsbury, although he never disgraced himself by obscenity like the one, nor inade eneinies like the other through ill nature or malice. He could be jocose with his inferiors without vulgarity; differing in

d It is said that the father and son, both most amiable men, sketched the countenance of each other, however slightly, every day; and this eccentric, and rare instance of affection, was

continued to the father's death.

Henry Fielding (properly Feilding) the cele brated author of Tom Jones.

f Old Slaughter's cotïee-house and hotel, St. Martin's-lane.

g Button's coffee-house, formerly in Great Russel-street, Covent Garden.

that were his father's, old Jonathan Richard-both frequented by Pope, Swift, Steele, Addison,
h Will's coffee-house, near the same spot,
son. Among these were many a curious Arbuthnot, and other great wits.
bit long since perished, no doubt, but
which would now fetch a topping price, if
brought to the hammer; and raise a mighty

a Old Stone was master mason to King
Charles I. One of his sons executed his monu-
ment, which was a bas-relievo, with tools and
implements of sculpture, admirably. carved in
marble. He and his two sons manufactured
more tombstones than any three that England
has produced. Old Stone died in 1641.

b Old St. Martin's church, built in the time
of Henry VIII. was pulled down in 1721.

and author of a learned treatise on that art
Jonathan Richardson, a distinguished painter,
the "reading of which," said the great Reynolds,
induced me to become a painter."

The Rainbow coffee-house, celebrated by
Dr. Johnson's coterie, near the Temple Gate.
k Dick's coffee-house, nearly adjoining.
1 The Devil tavern, formerly by the Temple.
m George Lambert, the best landscape painter
of his day, and principal scene-painter of Covent
Garden Theatre. He was the founder of the
celebrated beef-steak club, the first members of
which held their social meetings in the painting
room of the theatre. The club was subsequently
held in an apartment in the old playhouse; then
removed to the Shakspeare tavern; thence again
to the theatre; and being burnt out in 1812, the
meetings adjourned to the Bedford. At present
the celebrated club hold their convivial meetings
at the English Opera House, in the Strand.

that too with some distinguished wits his was too much" Why, Mr. Lambert," said of beef. The company quitted the kitchen, predecessors, and others his contemporaries; the old cook, almost bursting with suppressed and the cook was left to prepare the field for whilst he was delightfully social with his anger, équals, and perfectly easy with his superiors a scullion-a water-wag-t "do you take me for a turn-broach-action. in rank. His manners, according to my grubber--a pot-walloper-an ass-a fool! as the fat Grecian waddled up with the bill -tail-a goose-greaseuncle's testimony, whose discernment was This is very ill usage, gentlemen! Suppose of fare for the day, to give it to the bar, This dialogue took place about noon, just seldom called in question, were most engag-you I am to be taught the science by any when some stragglers of the club had called ing. Indeed I can readily believe all I have dirty draggle-tailed scullion of Covent Gar-in to get the morning whet. Martin Folkesp heard in Lambert's praise, for he must have den?-It will be high time for the devil to possessed extraordinary powers of fascina- bring his gridiron, and brimstone hell to boil to the coffee room; and hearing the party tion that could draw the nobility who were the pot, when I go to school to the playhouse talk loudly of the broiling match, inquired was coming down the stairs with Gostling used to eat their macaroni off gorgeous plate, to take a lesson.-I that sucked the culinary of Harry Fielding, who generally breakfasted to come to the scene room of Covent Garden art with my mother's milk-Ask master there," what iron is on the anvil now?" to partake of a chop or steak, cooked on there, pointing to Old Slaughter-ask mis-"O!" said the wit, the top of a German stove. He ruled at Old Slaughter's, a jovial king; child of the queen's privy kitchen-godson Cooks, with an after-piece of Just in Pudding tress there, pointing to his wife,-wasn't I a going to rehearse a new opera, the Rival "here's friend Lambert and the landlord, himself a character, yielded of Centlivre, yeoman of the mouth to the Time. Now, sir, if you wish to take a sciento all the waggeries of him and his collea- queen, and favourite disciple of Patrick Lamb tific steak, cooked according to the antique, gues, the members of the club, composed her majesty's first master cook? Wasn't I?" come at five, and you have nothing to bring of literati, painters, wits, antiquaries, and Here he was interrupted by Friar Pine the but a keen appetite; for Lambert pays the virtuosi, who had met there twice a week painter, whose glory was to be at the head piper." from the opening of the house. The saga- of a frolic. He took up the cudgels for Grecious tavern keeper! his yielding manners cian, and patting him on the bald pate, for brought custom to the bar. Besides many the old boy had taken off his cap, and was a hamper of claret, burgundy, and old rhenish rubbing it with his white apron" Never had "mine host" sent home to noble peers flinch, old Trojan," said he, " challenge him and men of high sounding title, name, and to a broiling match, as he boasts so loudly office, brought thither to taste his prime of his art." This proposition cooled cookey's stock by the gay founder of the Beef Steak heat a few degrees: "Will you dare try your Club. I could spin out a volume of stories of man dares-that dare I," replied the sceneskill, sir?" said he to Lambert; "What this club, related by my great uncle, which painter, with the utmost gravity. would amuse my readers, could I tell them match then," said the cook; "It is a with his naïveté. How many times he has Lambert. Cookey wiped his hot hand, and "Yea!" said made us laugh at the bickerings between respectfully offered it to Lambert, who shook Georgy, as he called him, and old " Gre-him heartily and cried " cian,' "Old Slaughter's cook. His manner against mine, my jolly old Grecian." "When done-your place of relating the broiling scene was so delec- is the match to commence ?" said the cook, table, that Garrick, who had listened to it "all eager for the fight."-To-morrow-or many years after the death of the principal to-day," said Lambert; "the time present parties, nearly choaked my lord bishop of is the best." Peterborough by reciting it at Lord Exeter's ing Greek, conscious of victory. "So be it, sir," said the smiltable at Burleigh. The bishop was eating have a good blaze at four," said Lambert. cray-fish; a small bit of shell went the wrong" Trust me for that," said the old boy, and Aye, way, and turned his lordship black in the rubbed his hands with extacy. face. Roscius was alarmed, and so were all the company; but the worthy prelate, on recovering, kindly urged him to proceed, and the whole party had another hearty laugh. Garrick mimicked the cook to admiration, and seasoned the dialogue with his own piquant sauce.

66

say out, so he began again,
Old Grecian was determined to have his
to see your noted beef-steak broiler get up
"I should like
three courses of four and twenty, Mr. Lam-
bert," "drawing his knife from his belt, and
flourishing it about: "I should like to see
fricasee, fricando or ragout, a bechemelle or
him blunder at a turtle, or brawn's head, a
maintenon, garbure, or gateau de mille
feuilles."

It seems the old cuisinier became mortally jealous of the reputation of the scene-room, which all the world were talking of at the expence of Dolly's and other places, as the ne plus ultra, for the choice cookery of a your French kickshaws, and buttered verdi"A fig for your fricandos and fricasees, steak. Grecian was so sore upon the subject grease, enough to make an Englishman sick. that it kept him awake o'nights, and fretted Can you broil a steak with Lambert? that's him at least a stone a quarter. In fact his the question." Cookey was dumb-founded jolly cheeks began to hang loose about him, at being thus cut short in his scientific soliwhich induced Hogarth to call him a drapery loquy by his ally, and turning round with a faced Greek. Lainbert ironically told him grin, answered with petulant gravity and he would take him to the "House," and mock respect, bowing as low as his fat would give him a lesson on the broiling art. This let him, Mister Edge Pine, I humbly trust I can." "That's spoken like a Trojan," said Pine: " prepare your fire by times, and Slaughter's larder never lacked a fine rump you shall have fair play." Be it known Old

ing's flippancy, but being a hero he put the best face upon it; so when the time arrived Georgy was not best pleased with Fieldhe tucked on a clean white apron and sleeves, and the favourite toast of the club, pretty Kitty, Old Slaughter's niece, pinned her cambrick handkerchief round his brow by way of cap. knight:" then kissing her fair hand, he he; "Now St. George is the word," said "I will defend this token like a true marched to the scene of action.

Edward, when William of Wykeham_was chief clerk, ever was visited by more illusNot even the kitchen of the renowned rounds, Hogarth had mustered half a score, trious guests. and old George Simpson was dispatched east Tothal had hobbled his of Temple Bar; in short, fame had blown her trumpet, and all the members that were in town hastened to rendezvous at the old spot, were chosen umpires to witness the sport. My great uncle Zachary, and Friar Pine, both experienced what stratum a rump of beef would cut a connoiseurs, knowing to a hair's breadth to philosophic dissertation, whether the plate prime steak; and I have listened to many 8 were best rubbed with garlic or shallotte Pine was for the first, my uncle preferred the latter.

for three heats, a pound cut for each. Lam-
bert, on looking at the fire, whispered my
The match was proclaimed by the umpires
not stand a third.
fice for a salamander; the devil himself could
uncle-two heats I should think would suf-

It was
wielded the tongs like a master, and turned
To work they went, and each did his steak.
the delicious morcel with marvellous dex-
a most scientific heat; Lambert
terity. Old Grecian sickened at the applause
bestowed on his rival, and began to blow
with envy, when suddenly he
tory" by a ruse de guerre. He gave the fire

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n Old Grecian. The cook at Slaughter's was nicknamed Grecian-one of that name being Centlivre and Patrick Lamb held appointa turnbroache in Queen Anne's privy kitchen.

ments in the same kitchen. Grecian's real naine
could never be discovered, though it is supposed
he formerly had held a menial office in the
Queen's kitchen.

though after this period, in consequence of hav
Robert Edge Pine, dubbed Friar Pine,
ing stood for the fat friar in Hogarth's Gate of
Calais.

won the vic

A gentleman of elegant manners, and President Hogarth, and acquainted with all the superior wits and men of talent his contemporaries. of the Royal Society.

P Martin Folkes, a friend and patron of

of " A walk round Canterbury," a work held in The Reverend William Gostling, the author high esteem by the antiquaries.

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