VELOCIPEDES. To the Editor of the Monthly Magazine. 'IE readiness with which you insert in Turadents this Many Yery useful invention, greatly interests and instructs its readers. I was much amused with a description of the Velocipede; and soon after was induced to purchase one, on which I rode a distance of twenty-one mles, a very hilly road, and returned to Lolon, the same distance, on the succeeding day; and have since paid a visit to Watford, fifteen miles, and returned the next day, with increased satisfaction. I cannot however consider this machine as likely to be brought to any beneficial travelling use, but there as many situations in which it might be used with advantage; and in such situations, it is a very superior mode of exercise, which may be regulated entirely at the will and capacity of the rider. It has this great advantage, that it enables the rider to take any degree of exercise without distressing his breath; indeed, so subtle is it, that those in good health and strength, who are inclined to get on, are surprised to find, that using it a short time, and w.thout feeling the sensation of excited lungs, are in a volent perspiration, without appearing to themselves to have done enough to occasion it. I have found invariably, from all who have u sed it, that this is the case, and cannot get a satisfactory reason for it." I find it a most sensible machine: it will indicate or point out the least rise or fall of ground; and on, that account, I should always recommend the rider to get off and walk up hills, if they are even very small. Its natural tendency is to run down hill; it will of course require exertion to force it in riding up hill, and it is labour badly applied, as it may be wheeled up all moderate hills with as little labour as using a walking-stick, and is really an assistance. I found it so; and could go up quicker than others without it; and it was only in very long and very steep and bad hills, that I found it any weght at all. This, in hilly countries, reduces the rate of going, as you may suppose, to walking nearly halfway. I think we have, in a great degree, got rid of jolting, by means of a spring of lance-wood lying along the whole length of the perca, which promises to answer well, I do with very little increase of weight. not think any metal-springs are at all applicable. I do not think it liable to bring on rupture, as is supposed by some, unless a man is foolish enough to force up hill, or over very rough ground; the moving a machine not nore than from forty to fifty pounds, can never do it. I do not profess to be a very swift traveller; I could not run a mile without much exertion, as I have but little wind; but I went the first seven miles in an hour: and, on the average, made six miles an hour, occasioned by the hills and bad road; though, on level and good roads, I expect I could have exceeded that rate of travelling conBut I do siderably, without great exertion. not believe the accounts of ten and twelve miles an hour being performed, except down hill, which is counteracted by the up-hill exertion. I do not believe those of two wheels behind will answer, as they would require very great exertion, and occasion greater fatigue; and the difficulty of balancing, is overcome in a very short time. price I gave for mine is eight guineas; and I think they cannot be made under, as they require true and good work. POETRY. Extracted from the English Magazines, Aug. 1819. THE EVERLASTING ROSE.* AIL to thy hues! thou lovely flower, HAI Sti! shed around thy soft perfume, Thine is, methinks, a pleasant dream, Still are thy green leaves whispering Low sounds, to fancy's ear that tell *This and the two pieces following are from Poems, &c. by John Anster, Esq. just published. The Bride of Corinth, near the conclusion of this little volume, is high-wrought, and terrific in interest. We are sorry only to refer to it; but Mr. Anster's poems deserve a general perusal. In Autumn's chaplet thou art wreathed, And round December's forehead bare. With thee the graceful lily vied, As summer breezes waved her head, Meekly contrasts thy cheerful red. Sweet flower! how happy dost thou seem Still smiles, still triumphs o'er despair; Charmer, alike in lordly bower, And in the hermit's cell she glows; The Poet's and the Lover's flower, The bosom's EVERLASTING ROSE! The E. B. VOL. 6.] THE BALLAD.* summer sun was sinking With a mild light, calm and mellow, It shone on my little boy's bonny cheeks, And his loose locks of yellow; The robin was singing sweetly, And his song was sad and tender; Original Poetry. And my little boy's eyes, while he heard the song, While his soul the song was quaffing, I sat alone in my cottage, The midnight needle plying; I feared for my child, for the rush's light There came a hand to my lonely latch, For I heard my little boy groaning: I crossed my brow and I crossed my breast, Oh! it cannot be my own sweet boy, My little boy is gone to God, And his mother soon will follow! The dirge for the dead will be sung for me, IKE the oak of the vale was thy strength and thy L' height, Thy foot, like the ernet of the mountain in flight; Alas! how soon the thin cold cloud 47 He gazes till bis dim eyes fail His Bride from her slumbers will waken and weep, But his pleasures are past, and his slumber is sound; And down to the ocean I sped; The moon on the billows was trembling and bright, Its beams lent a magic far dearer than sleep, I paused-it was nought but the answering gun I thought of the woe and the carnage again-- Oh! pleasant it is, on a far foreign shore, It wakes the dull spirit that slumbered before, Was it hope or illusion my bosom that warmed, I heard the sweet voice of my love. To the spot O for ever be fettered my sight-- TO THE SWISS. Ho! Swiss arise, BY THE SAME. The Gaul is on his way, His banner to the blast is flying- The peasants on thy hills are sighing, The Gaul has doomed thee to death; As they rise from the vales beneath. Thy arm once was strong when the Austrian fell, And his buckler was pierced by the arrow of Tell; Though his horses were many as leaves of the spring, And the eagle o'ershadow'd the land with his wing, Yet he fell from his heights, while destruction and fear Hung black as the shadow of night on his rear. Ho! watchman of the night, Dost hear the hoof on the plain? I heard the horses hoof on the plain, And the dying man, from the field of the slain, Bind, bind the shield on the arm- Let loose the sword from its sheath; And the bells that welcome the victor home, SOME HOME, SWEET HOME! love to range the world's wide round, Some court the city's giddy charms, Some list the trumpet's clanging sound, Joy'd at the thoughts of war's alarms ;-Ambition's arts and Pleasure's smiles With deep distrust I cautious flee, And Glory's vain deceitful wiles, For home, sweet home, is all to me! Fond hopes of wealth, vain dreams of ease, Offuture riches, future rest And all that Fancy's self can please, Fill the void chasm of many a breast. They seek the busy haunts of life, Explore the desert, brave the sea, COSSACK, my mute companion, as thou sleep'st On the warm rug, coil'd up in little room, Where thy sweet days of puppyhood were past, The film which hides the future? Dost thou see Is't this, which, when awaken'd, bids thy tail LITERARY INTELLIGENCE. HANNAH MORE'S NEW WORK. Isketches of Prevailing Opinions and N a few days will be published, Moral Manners, Foreign and Domestic, with Reflections on Prayer; by Hannah More. Mr. Owen, of Lanark, stated, at the recent meeting in London, that 200,000 pair of hands, with machinery, spin as much cotton now, as, forty years ago, without machinery, would have employed 20,000,000, that is to say, 100 to 1; that the cotton spun in a year, at this time, in this country, would require, without machinery, at least 60,000,000 hands, with single wheels; and, that the quantity of manufactured work, of all sorts, done by the aid of machinery in this nation, is such as would require, without that aid, the labour of at least 400,000,000 of manufacturers. How evident it is, then, that machinery enables us to enjoy luxuries without labour; that labour of this kind is no longer necessary: and that the manufacturers ought now to be enabled to return to the land. A school on the Lancasterian system was opened at Florence on the first of May, and already affords the most unequivocal proof of the advantages resulting from the plan of mutual instruction: a singular instance of the rapid progress of the pupils is mentioned. A grenadier, named Pascal Bresci, 25 years of age, who scarcely knew the alphabet, has in the space of twenty days learned to read with facility, and to write correctly from dictation. THESAURUS OF HORROR; OR THE CHARNEL-HOUSE EXPLORED!! &c.* THIS is a very pretty title, and we think the book is likely to have a run. The" Grave" of Blair is a sweet poem, but the name is much too simple, "Thesaurus of Horror" puts the imagination at once on the alert, and nothing can be more pointed than the sinister horn of the dilemma, the "Charnel-House Explored." Nothing can be more delightful than the philosophical, poetical, and historical variety of the title-page. The only fears one has are, lest the bill of fare promise more than the landlord can furnish; but we can assure our gentle readers, that this is far from being the case, and that for the sum of three and sixpence per head, they may sup full of horrors at the Ordinary of Mr. Snart. But to be serious-John Snart the Thesaurus of Horror; or, the Charnel-House Explored!! being an Historical and Philanthropieal Inquisition made for the Quondam-Blood of its Inhabitants! by a contemplative Descent into the Untimely Grave! shewing, by a number of Awful Facts that have transpired as well as from Philo sophical Inquiry, the Re-Animating Power of Fresh Earth in cases of Syncope, &c. and the Extreme Criminality of Hasty Funerals: with the Surest Methods of Escaping the Ineffable Horrors of Pre mature Interment !! The Frightful Mysteries of the Dark Ages Laid Open, which not only Deluged the Roman Empire, but Triumphed over all Christen dom for a Thousand Years! Entombing the Sciences, and subsequently Reviving all the Ignorance and Superstition of Gothic Barbarity! By John Snart, Φιλανθρωπος, Author of the Mathematical Principles of Mensuration, &c. 8vo. London. philanthropist is very far from being happy. Most men have something or other in this troublesome world to distress them, but his case is one of the most hopeless. He is not afraid of a change of ministers, nor of the escape of Buonaparte from St. Helena, but, ever since he arrived at the age of maturity, he has been in constant terror of being BURIED ALIVE. On this subject, and this subject alone, has he meditated for twenty years past, and he has now given to the public the fruits of his meditations below the tombs with as much composure as the awfulness of his most desperate condition would admit. This work is dedicated to the Duke of Sussex, and in the dedication the melancholy Snart informs his patron, that, next to the subjects of religion, "the horrors of the grave by premature interment are paramount to all others." Other writers, he informs us, have occasionally treated of this theme, but "petrified by the Gorgon's horrid front, have retired from the charge, and left it unfinished, rather than wound the feelings of themselves and the public by probing it to the bottom, until, like a long neglected disease, the evil (burying alive) has become desperate, and almost incurable, by inveterate custom." We really had no notion that things had got to this length, but have not the presumption to contradict Mr. Snart on a subject which he has so deeply studi ed. It would appear from his state- from premature interment. They have ments, that most people are buried got so accustomed to it, that it is not alive, and that as matters are now con- uncommon to hear the shocking expresducted, any lady or gentleman who is sion of "being buried alive" under a interred, perfectly dead, has good reas- cart load of blankets. But he is noton to consider her or himself unusually withstanding resolved to perseverefortunate. We perceive by reference and we dare say (enthusiastic man that to Dr. Jamieson's Essay on Creation, he is) he hopes to live and see the in the Antiquarian Society, wherein day when hearses will traverse the Inhumation is treated of incidentally, streets of our cities, burthened with the that the custom of burying the suppos- peaceful dead, and not, as at present, ed dead, for we must speak cautious- with persons riding unconsciously to ly-is one of very long standing. It quarters wherein they almost all awake ought, therefore, either to be given up in the morning, with feelings which it is immediately, or there ought to be a rad needless to describe. ical reform in this system of rotten burroughs. For, the weight of taxation in the open air, is nothing to the pres sure below, and the Scotsman himself will allow, that a starving, is not so great an evil as a buried population.. The Duke of Sussex is well known as the eloquent chairman at religious, poliucal, and poetical dinners, and Mr. Snart seems to desire that he would speedily arrange a dinner at the London Tavern for the consideration of this subject, and at which a society might be formed, entitled, "Society for the Suppression of Premature Interment." Never, says the great evfgauwos, does magnanimity shine so resplendently as "when it intrepidly passes the Rubicon of horror, descends into the premature grave, and snatches the poor devoted victim from the ineffable fate of living inhumation, or being BURIED ALIVE!!!" Without doubt, the catholic emancipation itself ought to be postponed till after a general grave-delivery of all his Majesty's subjects, be their religious persuasion what it may, The Duke is then told that, not only ought he to bestir himself in this great work, from motives of pure philanthropy, but that in this case, "virtue is its own reward, for he that establishes this law upon an universal basis, eventually secures himself from the direful penalties arising from neglecting it." Mr. Snart is aware that mankind are slow to listen to the voice of wisdom, and therefore, he is far from being sanguine in his expectations that they will soon adopt measures to save themselves We have often seen the obstinate perversity of the world at large well described, but never so well as by Mr. Snart. "A proud or self-opinionated man may very fairly be compared with a bottle which has always been kept full of wine, &c. until it is ready to burst by fermentation; and, could such bottle cogitate, it would think the repletion an essential quality of its own, (for fermentation, though a bouncing quality, like pride, arises from mutability,) and though it might be induced to insult all empty ones, or those filled with sober water, or other less changeable fluid than itself, yet a more philosophic bottle would discern between the vessel and the liquor contained in it, both as to the quantity and quality, and learn modesty from the lesson." At page 94 Mr. Snart addresses himself to the feelings and imagination of his readers, and that person must be deaf indeed to his own interests, who is not awakened to a sense of his danger by the following appeal, which we think equal to any thing that pulpit oratory has produced from St. Augustin to Dr. Chalmers. "All other deaths admit of some relief; at least, the sorry one of expiring! that is, of and men cherish the forlors hope, that (howsuffering the breath to escape from the lungs, ever oppressed through life) they shall find a resting place in the grave, from all their labours and sorrows too! but this appalling thought of another conflict in the gaol of deliverance murders all hope, and the very transcript of divinity itself within the sufferer's breast, and stifles it in its exit; entailing a second death infinitely worse than that designed by nature, the horrors of which baffle plement of misery that far transcends the the human pen to describe! A needless suporiginal penal sentence denounced on Adam and his posterity for transgression, ("thou shalt die !") and refuses the manumitted slave his free emancipation! "Behold the hapless victim of this horrid |