Sts. NereusandAchilleus.St. Flavia Domitilla.St. Pancras,A. D.304.St. Epiphanius, Abp.A. D.403.St. Germanus, Patriarch of Constantinople,A. D.733.St. Rictrudes, Abbess,A. D.688.
Sts. NereusandAchilleus.St. Flavia Domitilla.St. Pancras,A. D.304.St. Epiphanius, Abp.A. D.403.St. Germanus, Patriarch of Constantinople,A. D.733.St. Rictrudes, Abbess,A. D.688.
The anniversary of Christ’s Ascension as kept by the Romish church, is set forth in the “Popish Kingdome,†thus:
Then comes the day when Christ ascended to his father’s seateWhich day they also celebrate, with store of drinke and meate,Then every man some birde must eate, I know not to what ende,And after dinner all to church they come, and their attendeThe blocke that on the aultar still, till then was seene to stande,Is drawne vp hie aboue the roofe, by ropes, and force of hande:The Priestes about it rounde do stand, and chaunt it to the skie,For all these mens religion great, in singing most doth lie.Then out of hande the dreadfull shape of Sathan downe they throw,Oft times, with fire burning bright, and dasht a sunder tho,[144]The boyes with greedie eyes do watch, and on him straight they fall,And beate him sore with rods, and breake him into peeces small.This done, they wafers downe doe cast, and singing Cakes the while,With papers round amongst them put, the children to beguile.With laughter great are all things done: and from the beames they letGreat streames of water downe to fall, on whom they meane to wet.And thus this solemne holiday, and hye renowned feast,And all their whole deuotion here, is ended with a ieast.[145]
Then comes the day when Christ ascended to his father’s seateWhich day they also celebrate, with store of drinke and meate,Then every man some birde must eate, I know not to what ende,And after dinner all to church they come, and their attendeThe blocke that on the aultar still, till then was seene to stande,Is drawne vp hie aboue the roofe, by ropes, and force of hande:The Priestes about it rounde do stand, and chaunt it to the skie,For all these mens religion great, in singing most doth lie.Then out of hande the dreadfull shape of Sathan downe they throw,Oft times, with fire burning bright, and dasht a sunder tho,[144]The boyes with greedie eyes do watch, and on him straight they fall,And beate him sore with rods, and breake him into peeces small.This done, they wafers downe doe cast, and singing Cakes the while,With papers round amongst them put, the children to beguile.With laughter great are all things done: and from the beames they letGreat streames of water downe to fall, on whom they meane to wet.And thus this solemne holiday, and hye renowned feast,And all their whole deuotion here, is ended with a ieast.[145]
Then comes the day when Christ ascended to his father’s seateWhich day they also celebrate, with store of drinke and meate,Then every man some birde must eate, I know not to what ende,And after dinner all to church they come, and their attendeThe blocke that on the aultar still, till then was seene to stande,Is drawne vp hie aboue the roofe, by ropes, and force of hande:The Priestes about it rounde do stand, and chaunt it to the skie,For all these mens religion great, in singing most doth lie.Then out of hande the dreadfull shape of Sathan downe they throw,Oft times, with fire burning bright, and dasht a sunder tho,[144]The boyes with greedie eyes do watch, and on him straight they fall,And beate him sore with rods, and breake him into peeces small.This done, they wafers downe doe cast, and singing Cakes the while,With papers round amongst them put, the children to beguile.With laughter great are all things done: and from the beames they letGreat streames of water downe to fall, on whom they meane to wet.And thus this solemne holiday, and hye renowned feast,And all their whole deuotion here, is ended with a ieast.[145]
It is sufficient for the present to observe of Holy Thursday, that with us on this day it is a common custom of established usage, for the minister of each parish, with the parochial officers and other inhabitants of the parish, followed by the boys of the parish school, headed by their master, to go in procession to the different parish boundaries; which boundaries the boys strike with peeled willow wands that they bear in their hands, and this is called “beating the bounds.†More, concerning this and other practices connected with the day, is purposely deferred till the subject be properly set forth hereafter.
The month of May is called a “trying†month, to persons long ailing with critical complaints. It is common to say, “Ah, he’ll never get upMay-hill!†or, “If he can climb overMay-hillhe’ll do.†“As a rule of health for May,†says Dr. Forster, “we may advise early rising in particular, as being essentially conducive to that blessing. Every thing now invites the sluggard to leave his bed and go abroad. Milton has given such a lively description of morning scenes as must rouse every lover of the country from his couch:—
Lines from l’AllegroTo hear the lark begin his flight,And singing, startle the dull night,From his watch-tower in the skies,Till the dappled dawn doth rise;Then to come, in spite of sorrow,And at my window bid good morrow,Through the sweet-brier, or the vine,Or the twisted eglantine:While the cock, with lively din,Scatters the rear of darkness thin;And to the stack, or the barn-door,Stoutly struts his dames before.Oft listening now the hounds and hornCheerly rouse the slumbering morn,From the side of some hoar hill,Through the high wood echoing shrill:Some time walking, not unseen,By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green,Right against the eastern gateWhere the great sun begins his state,Robed in flames, and amber light,The clouds in thousand liveries dight;While the ploughman, near at hand,Whistles o’er the furrow’d land,And the milkmaid singeth blithe,And the mower whets his sithe,And every shepherd tells his taleUnder the hawthorn in the dale.Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures,Whilst the landscape round it measures;Russet lawns, and fallows gray,Where the nibbling flocks do stray;Mountains, on whose barren breast,The labouring clouds do often rest;Meadows trim with daisies pide,Shallow brooks, and rivers wide:Towers and battlements it seesBosomed high in tufted trees,Where perhaps some beauty lies,The cynosure of neighbouring eyes.
Lines from l’Allegro
To hear the lark begin his flight,And singing, startle the dull night,From his watch-tower in the skies,Till the dappled dawn doth rise;Then to come, in spite of sorrow,And at my window bid good morrow,Through the sweet-brier, or the vine,Or the twisted eglantine:While the cock, with lively din,Scatters the rear of darkness thin;And to the stack, or the barn-door,Stoutly struts his dames before.Oft listening now the hounds and hornCheerly rouse the slumbering morn,From the side of some hoar hill,Through the high wood echoing shrill:Some time walking, not unseen,By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green,Right against the eastern gateWhere the great sun begins his state,Robed in flames, and amber light,The clouds in thousand liveries dight;While the ploughman, near at hand,Whistles o’er the furrow’d land,And the milkmaid singeth blithe,And the mower whets his sithe,And every shepherd tells his taleUnder the hawthorn in the dale.Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures,Whilst the landscape round it measures;Russet lawns, and fallows gray,Where the nibbling flocks do stray;Mountains, on whose barren breast,The labouring clouds do often rest;Meadows trim with daisies pide,Shallow brooks, and rivers wide:Towers and battlements it seesBosomed high in tufted trees,Where perhaps some beauty lies,The cynosure of neighbouring eyes.
To hear the lark begin his flight,And singing, startle the dull night,From his watch-tower in the skies,Till the dappled dawn doth rise;Then to come, in spite of sorrow,And at my window bid good morrow,Through the sweet-brier, or the vine,Or the twisted eglantine:While the cock, with lively din,Scatters the rear of darkness thin;And to the stack, or the barn-door,Stoutly struts his dames before.Oft listening now the hounds and hornCheerly rouse the slumbering morn,From the side of some hoar hill,Through the high wood echoing shrill:Some time walking, not unseen,By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green,Right against the eastern gateWhere the great sun begins his state,Robed in flames, and amber light,The clouds in thousand liveries dight;While the ploughman, near at hand,Whistles o’er the furrow’d land,And the milkmaid singeth blithe,And the mower whets his sithe,And every shepherd tells his taleUnder the hawthorn in the dale.Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures,Whilst the landscape round it measures;Russet lawns, and fallows gray,Where the nibbling flocks do stray;Mountains, on whose barren breast,The labouring clouds do often rest;Meadows trim with daisies pide,Shallow brooks, and rivers wide:Towers and battlements it seesBosomed high in tufted trees,Where perhaps some beauty lies,The cynosure of neighbouring eyes.
Not as a picture of general manners, but as sketches of particular characters in certain parts of Ireland, the following anecdotes are extracted from one of the “Letters from the Irish Highlands,†dated in May, 1823.
“In the same spirit, the pleasures of the table are but too often shared by the gentlemen of the country with those who are very much their inferiors, both in birth and fortune. The lowest and most degrading debauchery must be the natural consequence, and here I must not forget an anecdote which will at once illustrate this, and also make you acquainted with a childish superstition, with which it is a frequent practice of all ranks to combat this pernicious vice, encouraged by their indolent manner of life, and by the former facility of procuring smuggled liquors. A gentleman, whose rental at one time amounted to 10,000l.per annum, and who was in the constant habits of intoxication, took an oath to drink nothing after the cloth was removed; but, unable to comply with the spirit, he soon contented himself with adhering to the letter of this rash vow, and, keeping the cloth on table after dinner was over, could drink all night without fear of infringing it. He then swore not to drink in his dining-parlour, but again as easily evaded his engagement, by adjourning to the next apartment; in the next apartment, however, on some fresh qualms of conscience, the vow was renewed; and so, in each room successively, until he fairly swore himself out of the house. He then took refuge in the summer-house of his garden, and there used to dine and drink daily; till, rashly renewing his vow here also, he was reduced to find a new subterfuge by taking lodgings in a neighbouring town.
“This story reminds me of a circumstance which has taken place within these few days, and in which the chief actor was one of the remaining branches of a numerous family, among the second-rate gentry, who are here distinguished by the title ofbuckeens. Originally supported in a state of comparative ease and indulgence, partly by their share in the contraband trade, partly by their close connection and alliance with the principal families in the country, their incomes have gradually sunk with the change of circumstances, which has, in a great measure, dissolved this ancient bond of fellowship, as well as destroyed their more illegitimate sources of revenue. Many of these, without seeking employment for themselves, or education for their children, still cling to customs which have now passed away; and, when reduced almost to a state of mendicity, continue their former boast of being ‘gentlemen.’
“A puncheon of spirits lately came ashore, and fell to the share of the individual above mentioned. It was too large to be got in at the door of his house; he therefore pulled part of the wall down; still, however, it stuck half way. His small stock of patience could last no longer; he tapped the end that was within, and he and his wife, with their servant, soon became completely intoxicated. His neighbours, aware of this, tapped the cask at the other end,and the next day, when this worthy personage would have taken hismorning, he found the cask completely emptied!â€
Conduct, or rather misconduct, such as this, is very natural in a country wherein social feelings are cultivated; wherein capital is not employed; and wherein the knowledge of principles among the influential classes of the community, is not sufficiently extended to unite in cooperation by way of example and instruction. Industry is essential to happiness, and the unemployed will be either playful or vicious. We say of children, “Give them something to do, or they will be in mischief;†this is equally true of men.
Francis Grose, Esq. F.S.A. etc.
Francis Grose, Esq. F.S.A. etc.
This gentleman died on the 12th of May, 1791; he was son of Francis Grose, esq. jeweller at Richmond, who fitted up the coronation crown of George II. He was a captain in the Surrey militia, an eminent antiquary, and a right worthy man. His “Antiquities of England and Wales, Scotland and Ireland,†are more generally known perhaps than other topographical works of more profound inquiry. They were commenced in numbers, and published by “Master Samuel Hooper,†so he called his bookseller, to whom he was a steady and affectionate friend, though he says, in one of his letters, “he never did any one thing I desired him.†His “Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue,†Mr. Nichols says, “it would have been for his credit to have suppressed.†The truth of this observation is palpable to every one who is not sophisticated by the wretchedly mischievous line, that
“Vice, to be hated, needs but to be seen.â€
“Vice, to be hated, needs but to be seen.â€
“Vice, to be hated, needs but to be seen.â€
A more mischievous sentiment wasnever promulgated. Capt. Grose’s “Olio†is a pleasant medley of whimsicalities. He was an excellent companion, a humorist, and caricaturist; he wrote “Rules for drawing Caricatures,†and drew and etched many, wherein he took considerable liberties with his friends. Yet he seems to have disliked a personal representation of himself sleeping in a chair, which Mr. Nichols pronounces “an excellent†likeness; a copy of which we have given in the preceding page. Adjoining it is another of him, a whole length, standing, from an engraving by Bartolozzi, after a drawing by Dance. The sleeping portrait is attributed to the rev. James Douglas, one of his brother antiquaries, who dedicated the print to their “devoted brethren†of the society. Beneath it were inscribed the following lines:
“NowGrose, like bright PhÅ“bus, has sunk into rest,Society droops for the loss of his jest;Antiquarian debates, unseason’d with mirth,To Genius and Learning will never give birth.Then wake, Brother Member, our friend from his sleep,Lest Apollo should frown, and Bacchus should weep.â€
“NowGrose, like bright PhÅ“bus, has sunk into rest,Society droops for the loss of his jest;Antiquarian debates, unseason’d with mirth,To Genius and Learning will never give birth.Then wake, Brother Member, our friend from his sleep,Lest Apollo should frown, and Bacchus should weep.â€
“NowGrose, like bright PhÅ“bus, has sunk into rest,Society droops for the loss of his jest;Antiquarian debates, unseason’d with mirth,To Genius and Learning will never give birth.Then wake, Brother Member, our friend from his sleep,Lest Apollo should frown, and Bacchus should weep.â€
He was remarkably corpulent, as the engravings show. In a letter to the rev. James Granger, he says, “I am, and ever have been, the idlest fellow living, even before I had acquired the load of adventitious matter which at present stuffs my doublet.†On the margin of this letter Mr. Granger wrote, “As for the matter thatstuffsyour doublet, I hope it is all goodstuff; if you shoulddoubleit, I shall call it morbid matter and tremble for you. But I consider it as the effect of good digestion, pure blood, and laughing spirits, coagulated into a wholesome mass by as much sedentariness (I hate this long word) as is consistent with the activity of your disposition.†In truth, Grose was far from an idle man; he had great mental activity, and his antiquarian knowledge and labours were great. He was fond however of what are termed the pleasures of the table; and is represented in a fine mezzotinto, drawn and engraved by his friend Nathaniel Hone, with Theodosius Forrest, the barrister, and Hone himself, dressed in the character of monks, over a bowl, which Grose is actively preparing for their carousal. He died of apoplexy in Mr. Hone’s house in Dublin, at the age of fifty-two. In reference to his principal works, the following epitaph, quoted by Mr. Nichols in his “Anecdotes,†was proposed for him in the “St. James’s Chronicle:â€â€”
Here lies Francis Grose.On Thursday, May 12, 1791,Death put an end toHisviewsandprospects.
Here lies Francis Grose.On Thursday, May 12, 1791,Death put an end toHisviewsandprospects.
Here lies Francis Grose.On Thursday, May 12, 1791,Death put an end toHisviewsandprospects.
German Fleur de lis.Iris Germanica.Dedicated toSt. Germanus.
[144]Shepherd.[145]Naogeorgus, by Googe.
[144]Shepherd.
[145]Naogeorgus, by Googe.
St. Johnthe Silent, Bp.A. D.558.St. Peter Regalati,A. D.1456.St. Servatus, Bp. of Tongres,A. D.384.
St. Johnthe Silent, Bp.A. D.558.St. Peter Regalati,A. D.1456.St. Servatus, Bp. of Tongres,A. D.384.
Common Comfrey.Symphetum officinale.Dedicated toSt. Johnthe Silent.
St. Boniface,A. D.307.St. Pachomius, Abbot,A. D.348.St. Pontius,A. D.258.St. Carthagh, orMochudu, Bp. of Lismore,A. D.637 or 638.
St. Boniface,A. D.307.St. Pachomius, Abbot,A. D.348.St. Pontius,A. D.258.St. Carthagh, orMochudu, Bp. of Lismore,A. D.637 or 638.
Common Piony.Pæonia officinalis.Coralline Piony.Pæonia corallina.Dedicated toSt. Pontius.
St. Peter,Andrew, andCompanions, Martyrs,A. D.250.St. Dympna, 7th Cent.St. GenebrardorGenebern.
St. Peter,Andrew, andCompanions, Martyrs,A. D.250.St. Dympna, 7th Cent.St. GenebrardorGenebern.
For the Every-Day Book.
A “SEASONABLE STORY.â€â€™Tis hard, you’ll tell me, but ’tis true—Thanks to that heathen dog, Mahomet—In Turkey if you want to woo—But, by the bye, you’d best keep from it—The object of your love must hideHer face from every idle gazer—A wholesome check on female prideI think; and what’syournotion, pray sir?“Where beechen boughs their shade diffuseâ€â€™Twas once my lot to hear a ditty,Fill’d with such stuff as lovers useTo melt the maiden heart with pity,Recited by a Turk: ’twas queerI thought that one like him, who neverHadseenhis mistress, should appearIn “puff†and “eulogy†so clever.“Two swains were smoking,†tales, you know,Of love begin and end in vapour—“Beside a purling stream, when lo!By came a maiden, slim and taper.Her eyes were like two stars at nightâ€â€”No matter how I came to know it—The one beholds her with delight.And all at once becomes a poet.“Why sits thy soul within those eyes?â€The other asks, “resume your smoking,â€The lover hears him with surpriseAnd answers, “Set aside all joking,The pipe has now no charms for me;My heart is, as a fig, transportedTo the thick foliage of some tree,And there a bright-eyed bird has caught it.â€Now hear amoral! Love’s a slyAnd roguish fellow: look about yeWatch all he does with careful eye,Or else ’tis ten to one he’ll flout ye.Give him an inch he’ll take an ell;And, if he once make conquest o’er ye,Then sense, wit, reason, will, farewell!—Thus ends thisseasonablestory.Δ
A “SEASONABLE STORY.â€
’Tis hard, you’ll tell me, but ’tis true—Thanks to that heathen dog, Mahomet—In Turkey if you want to woo—But, by the bye, you’d best keep from it—The object of your love must hideHer face from every idle gazer—A wholesome check on female prideI think; and what’syournotion, pray sir?“Where beechen boughs their shade diffuseâ€â€™Twas once my lot to hear a ditty,Fill’d with such stuff as lovers useTo melt the maiden heart with pity,Recited by a Turk: ’twas queerI thought that one like him, who neverHadseenhis mistress, should appearIn “puff†and “eulogy†so clever.“Two swains were smoking,†tales, you know,Of love begin and end in vapour—“Beside a purling stream, when lo!By came a maiden, slim and taper.Her eyes were like two stars at nightâ€â€”No matter how I came to know it—The one beholds her with delight.And all at once becomes a poet.“Why sits thy soul within those eyes?â€The other asks, “resume your smoking,â€The lover hears him with surpriseAnd answers, “Set aside all joking,The pipe has now no charms for me;My heart is, as a fig, transportedTo the thick foliage of some tree,And there a bright-eyed bird has caught it.â€Now hear amoral! Love’s a slyAnd roguish fellow: look about yeWatch all he does with careful eye,Or else ’tis ten to one he’ll flout ye.Give him an inch he’ll take an ell;And, if he once make conquest o’er ye,Then sense, wit, reason, will, farewell!—Thus ends thisseasonablestory.
’Tis hard, you’ll tell me, but ’tis true—Thanks to that heathen dog, Mahomet—In Turkey if you want to woo—But, by the bye, you’d best keep from it—The object of your love must hideHer face from every idle gazer—A wholesome check on female prideI think; and what’syournotion, pray sir?
“Where beechen boughs their shade diffuseâ€â€™Twas once my lot to hear a ditty,Fill’d with such stuff as lovers useTo melt the maiden heart with pity,Recited by a Turk: ’twas queerI thought that one like him, who neverHadseenhis mistress, should appearIn “puff†and “eulogy†so clever.
“Two swains were smoking,†tales, you know,Of love begin and end in vapour—“Beside a purling stream, when lo!By came a maiden, slim and taper.Her eyes were like two stars at nightâ€â€”No matter how I came to know it—The one beholds her with delight.And all at once becomes a poet.
“Why sits thy soul within those eyes?â€The other asks, “resume your smoking,â€The lover hears him with surpriseAnd answers, “Set aside all joking,The pipe has now no charms for me;My heart is, as a fig, transportedTo the thick foliage of some tree,And there a bright-eyed bird has caught it.â€
Now hear amoral! Love’s a slyAnd roguish fellow: look about yeWatch all he does with careful eye,Or else ’tis ten to one he’ll flout ye.Give him an inch he’ll take an ell;And, if he once make conquest o’er ye,Then sense, wit, reason, will, farewell!—Thus ends thisseasonablestory.
Δ
Welsh Poppy.Papaver Cambricum.Dedicated toSt. Dympna.
St. John Nepomucen,A. D.1383.St. Simon Stock,A. D.1265.St. Ubaldus,A. D.1160.St. Honoratus, Bp.A. D.660.St. Abdjesus, orHebedjesus, Bp.St. Abdas, Bp.St. Brendanthe Elder, Abbot of Clonfert,A. D.578.
St. John Nepomucen,A. D.1383.St. Simon Stock,A. D.1265.St. Ubaldus,A. D.1160.St. Honoratus, Bp.A. D.660.St. Abdjesus, orHebedjesus, Bp.St. Abdas, Bp.St. Brendanthe Elder, Abbot of Clonfert,A. D.578.
Last day of Easter Term, 1825; it commenced 20th of April.
From the “Diana†of George of Montemayor, 1598, there is an extract in theLiterary Pocket Booksweetly descriptive of a placid scene in nature. It begins with—“When the joyous companie arrived thus far, they saw how a little brooke, covered almost all over with sweet and smelling herbs, ran gently thorow a greene meadow amongst a ranke of divers trees that were nourished and maintained by the cleere water; under the shadowes of which, as they were now determined to rest themselves, Syrenus said, ‘Let us see from whence this little spring doth issue forth. It may be the place is more fresh and cool thereabouts: if not, or if we cannot finde out the fountaine from whence it flowes, we will return here.’ It liked his company well, and so they desired him to lead the way. Everie place and part of all the brooke upwards invited them to pleasant rest; but, when, at length, after much perplexitie, resulting from the very abundance and luxurie of their choice, they were about to lay themselves downe, they sawe that with greater quantitie of waters and fresher shades of green trees the brooke ran up higher, forsaking its right course towards the left hande, where our companie discovered a great thicket and spring of divers trees, in which they saw a very narrow entrance, and somewhat long, whose sides were not of walls fabricated by artificiall hand but made of trees by nature, the mistresse of all things. For there were seene the deadly Cypresse, the triumphant laurell, the hard oke, the low sallow, the invincible palme, the blacke and ruggie elme, the olive, the prickie chestenut, and the high pine-apple, one amongst another, whose bodies were bound about with greene ivie and the fruitfull vine, and beset with sweet jesmines and many other redolent flowers, that grew very thicke together in that place. Amongst the which many little birds (inhabitants of that wood) went leaping from bough to bough, making the place more pleasant with their sweet and silver notes. The trees were in such order set together that they denied not the golden sunbeames to have an entrance, to paint the greene ground with divers colours (which reverberated from the flowers) that were never steadie in one place, by reason that the moveable leaves did disquiet them. This narrow way did leade to a little greene, covered all over with fine grasse, and not touched with the hungrie mouthes of devouring flockes. At the side of it was the fountaine of the brooke, having a care that the place should not drie up, sending forth on every side her flowing waters.â€
The season is coming on wherein the heart will court retreat to such a scene of natural beauty.
Great Star of Bethlehem.Ornithogalum Umbrellatum.Dedicated toSt. John Nepomucen.
St. Paschal Babylon,A. D.1592.St. Possidius, Bp. of Calama, in Numidia,A. D.430.St. Maden, orMadern.St. Maw.St. Cathan, 6th or 7th Cent.St. Silave, orSilan, Bp.A. D.1100.
St. Paschal Babylon,A. D.1592.St. Possidius, Bp. of Calama, in Numidia,A. D.430.St. Maden, orMadern.St. Maw.St. Cathan, 6th or 7th Cent.St. Silave, orSilan, Bp.A. D.1100.
1817. Died at Heckington, aged sixty-five, Mr. Samuel Jessup, an opulent grazier, of pill-taking memory. He lived in a very eccentric way, as a bachelor, without known relatives; and at his decease possessed of a good fortune, notwithstanding a most inordinate craving for physic, by which he was distinguished for the last thirty years of his life, as appeared on a trial for the amount of an apothecary’s bill, at the assizes at Lincoln, a short time before Mr. Jessup’s death, wherein he was defendant. The evidence on the trial affords the following materials for the epitaph of the deceased, which will not be transcended by the memorabilia of the life of any man:—In twenty-one years (from 1791 to 1816) the deceased took 226,934 pills, supplied by a respectable apothecary at Bottesford; which is at the rate of 10,806 pills a year, or twenty-nine pills each day; but as the patient began with a more moderate appetite, and increased it as he proceeded, in the last five years preceding 1816, he took the pills at the rate of seventy-eight a day, and in the year 1814 he swallowed not less than 51,590. Notwithstanding this, and the addition of 40,000 bottles of mixture, and juleps and electuaries, extending altogether to fifty-five closely written columns of an apothecary’s bill, the deceased lived to attain the advanced age of sixty-five years.
Early Red Poppy.Papaver Argemone.Dedicated toSt. Paschal Babylon.
St. Eric, King of Sweden,A. D.1151.St. Theodotus, Vintner, and SevenVirgins, Martyrs,A. D.303.St. Venantius,A. D.250.St. Potamon, Bp. of Heraclea, in Egypt,A. D.341.
St. Eric, King of Sweden,A. D.1151.St. Theodotus, Vintner, and SevenVirgins, Martyrs,A. D.303.St. Venantius,A. D.250.St. Potamon, Bp. of Heraclea, in Egypt,A. D.341.
1808. Sir John Carter, knt. died at Portsmouth, his native town, aged sixty-seven. He was an alderman, and nine times mayor of the borough; and a magistrate of the county, for which he also served the office of sheriff in 1784. His name is here introduced to commemorate an essential service that he rendered to his country, by his mild and judicious conduct during the mutiny at Spithead, in the spring of 1797. The sailors having lost three of their body in consequence of the resistance made to their going on board the London, then bearing the flag of admiral Colpoys, wished to bury them in Kingston churchyard, and to carry them in procession through the town of Portsmouth. This request was most positively refused them by the governor. They then applied to sir John Carter to grant their request, who endeavoured to convince the governor of the propriety and necessity of complying with it, declaring that he would be answerable for the peace of the town, and the orderly conduct of the sailors. The governor would not be prevailed on, and prepared for resistance; and resistance on both sides would most probably have been resorted to, had not the calmness, perseverance, and forbearance of sir John Carter at length compromised the affair, by obtaining permission for the sailors to pass through the garrison of Portsmouth in procession, and the bodies to be landed at the Common Hard in Portsea, where the procession was to join them.
So great was sir John Carter’s influence over the sailors, that they most scrupulously adhered to the terms he prescribed to them in their procession to the grave. Two of their comrades having become “a little groggy†after they came on shore, they were carefully locked up in a room by themselves, lest they should become quarrelsome, or be unable to conduct themselves with propriety. It was a most interesting spectacle. Sir John accompanied them himself through the garrison, to prevent any insult being offered to them. At the Common Hard he was joined by Mr. Godwin, the friend and associate of his youth, and also a most worthy magistrate of this borough. They attended the procession till it had passed the fortifications at Portsea: every thing was conducted with the greatest decorum. When the sailors returned, and were sent off to their respective ships, two or three of the managing delegates came to sir John, to inform him that the men were all gone on board, and to thank him for his great goodness to them.Sir John seized the opportunity of inquiring after their admiral, as these delegates belonged to the London. “Do you know him, your honour?†“Yes; I have a great respect for him, and I hope you will not do him any harm.†“No, byG—d,your honour, he shall not be hurt.†It was at that time imagined admiral Colpoys would be hung at the yard-arm, and he had prepared for this event by arranging his affairs and making his will. In this will he had left to the widows of the three men who were so unfortunately killed an annuity of 20l.each. The next morning, however, the admiral was privately, unexpectedly, and safely brought on shore, though pursued by a boat from the Mars, as soon as they suspected what was transacting. The delegates brought him to sir John Carter, and delivered him to his care: they then desired to have a receipt for him, as a proof to their comrades that they had safely delivered him into the hands of the civil power; and this receipt he gave. The admiral himself, in his first appearance at court afterwards, acknowledged to the king that he owed his life to sir John Carter, and assured his majesty that his principles were misinterpreted and his conduct misrepresented, and that he had not a more faithful and worthy subject in his dominions. Notwithstanding this, the duke of Portland, then secretary of state for the home department, received a very strong letter against him, which letter his grace sent to sir John, assuring him at the same time that the government placed the utmost confidence in his honour, integrity, and patriotism, and concluded by proposing to offer a large reward for the discovery of the writer: this, with a dignified consciousness of the purity of his conduct, sir John declined; though, from some well-founded conjectures, the discovery might possibly have been easily made. This inestimable consciousness enabled him to meet with the greatest composure every effort of party rage to sully his reputation and destroy his influence. So pure were his principles, that when in the year 1806 he was offered a baronetage by Mr. Fox, he declined it on the ground that he believed the offer to have been made for his undeviating attachment to Mr. Fox’s politics; and that, to accept it, would be a manifest departure from his principles. In every public and domestic relationship he was uniformly mild, impartial, and upright; nor was he ever deterred by persona, difficulties or inconveniences from a faithful, and even minute attendance on his widely extended duties. The poor in him ever found a friend, and the unfortunate a protector. The peace, comfort, and happiness of others, and not his own interest, were the unwearied objects of his pursuit. Never was there a character in which there was less of self than in his.
Rambling in cultivated spots renders one almost forgetful of cultivating friends. On the subject of “manure,†the editor of theEvery-Day Bookhas no competent knowledge; he has not settled in his own mind whether he should decide for “long straw or short straw,†and as regards himself would willingly dispose of the important question by “drawingcuts;†all he can at present do for his country readers, is to tell them what lord Bacon affirms; his lordship says that “muck should be spread.†This would make a capital text or vignette for a dissertation; but there is no space here to dissertate, and if Messrs. Taylor and Hessey’sLondon Magazine, for May, had not suggested the subject, it would scarcely have occurred. There the reviewer of “Gaieties and Gravities†has extracted some points from that work, which are almost equal to the quantity of useful information derivable from more solid books—here they are:—
“Residing upon the eastern coast, and farming a considerable extent of country, I have made repeated and careful experiments with this manure; and as the mode of burial in many parts of the Continent divides the different classes into appropriated portions of the churchyard, I have been enabled, by a little bribery to sextons and charnel-house men, to obtain specimens of every rank and character, and to ascertain with precision their separate qualities and results for the purposes of the farmer, botanist, or common nurseryman. These it is my purpose to communicate to the reader, who may depend upon the caution with which the different tests were applied, as well as upon the fidelity with which they are reported.
“A few cartloads of citizens’ bones gave me a luxuriant growth of London pride, plums, Sibthorpia or base money-wort, mud-wort, bladder-wort, and mushrooms; but for laburnum or goldenchain, I was obliged to select a lord mayor. Hospital bones supplied me with cyclamen in any quantity, which I intermixed with a few seeds from the Cyclades Islands, and the scurvy-grass came up spontaneously; while manure from different fields of battle proved extremely favourable to the hæmanthus or blood-flower, the trumpet-flower and laurel, as well as to widow-wail and cypress. A few sample skulls from the poet’s corner of a German abbey furnished poet’s cassia, grass of Parnassus, and bays, in about equal quantities, with wormwood, crab, thistle, stinging-nettle, prickly holly, teasel, and loose-strife. Courtiers and ministers, when converted into manure, secured an ample return of jack-in-a-box, service-apples, climbers, supple-jacks, parasite plants, and that species of sun-flower which invariably turns to the rising luminary. Nabobs form a capital compost for hepatica, liver-wort, spleen-wort, hips, and pine; and from those who had three or four stars at the India-house, I raised some particularly fine China asters. A good show of adonis, narcissus, jessamine, cockscomb, dandelion, money-flower, and buckthorn, may be obtained from dandies, although they are apt to encumber the ground with tickweed; while a good drilling withdandisettesis essential to those beds in which you wish to raise Venus’s looking-glass, Venus’s catchfly, columbines, and love-apples. A single dressing of jockies will ensure you a quick return of horse-mint, veronica or speedwell, and colt’s-foot; and a very slight layer of critics suffices for a good thick spread of scorpion senna, viper’s bugloss, serpent’s tongue, poison-nut, nightshade, and hellebore. If you are fond of raising stocks, manure your bed with jobbers; wine-merchants form the most congenial stimulant for sloes, fortune-hunters for the marygold and goldenrod, and drunkards for Canary wines, mad-wort and horehound. Failing in repeated attempts to raise the chaste tree from the bones of nuns, which gave me nothing but liquorice-root, I applied those of a dairy-maid, and not only succeeded perfectly in my object, but obtained a good crop of butter-wort, milk-wort, and heart’s-ease. I was equally unsuccessful in raising any sage, honesty, or everlasting from monks; but they yielded a plentiful bed of monk’s hood, or jesuit’s bark, medlars, and cardinal flowers. My importation of shoemakers was unfortunately too scanty to try their effect upon a large scale, but I contrived to procure from them two or three ladies’ slippers. As school-boys are raised by birch, it may be hardly necessary to mention, that when reduced to manure, they return the compliment; but it may be useful to make known as widely as possible, that dancing-masters supply the best hops and capers, besides quickening the growth of the citharexylum or fiddle-wood. For your mimosas or sensitive plants there is nothing better than a layer of novel-readers, and you may use up the first bad author that you can disinter for all the poppies you may require. Coffee-house waiters will keep you supplied in cummin; chronologists furnish the best dates, post-office men serve well for rearing scarlet-runners, poulterers for hen-bane, tailors for cabbage, and physicians for truffles, or any thing that requires to be quickly buried. I could have raised a few bachelors’ buttons from the bones of that class; but as nobody cares a button for bachelors, I did not think it worth while. As a general remark it may be noticed, that young people produce the passion-flower in abundance, while those of a more advanced age may be beneficially used for the elder-tree, the sloe, and snapdragon; and with respect to different nations, my experiments are only sufficiently advanced to enable me to state that Frenchmen are favourable to garlic, and that Poles are very good for hops. Of mint I have never been able to raise much; but as to thyme, I have so large a supply, as the reader will easily perceive, that I am enabled to throw it away; and as he may not possibly be in a similar predicament, I shall refer him for the rest of my experiments to the records of the Horticultural Society.â€
It is noticed by Dr. Forster, that about this time the purple goatsbeardtragopogon porrifoliusand the yellow goatsbeardtragopogon pratensisbegin to blow; and that of all the indices in theHOROLOGIUM FLORÆthe above plants are the most regular: they open their flowers at sunrise, and shut them so regularly at mid-day, that they have been called by the whimsical name ofgo to bed at noon. They are as regular as a clock, and are mentioned as such in the following verses:—
RETIRED LEISURE’S DELIGHT.To sit and smoke between two rows of Limes,Along the wall of some neat old Dutch town,In noontide heat, and hear the jingling chimesFrom Stadhouse Steeple; then to lay one downUpon a Primrose bank, where Violet flowersSmell sweetly, and the meads in bloomy prime,’Till Flora’s clock, the Goat’s Beard, mark the hours,And closing says, Arise, ’tis dinner time;Then dine on Pyes and Cauliflower heads,And roam away the afternoon in Tulip Beds.
RETIRED LEISURE’S DELIGHT.
To sit and smoke between two rows of Limes,Along the wall of some neat old Dutch town,In noontide heat, and hear the jingling chimesFrom Stadhouse Steeple; then to lay one downUpon a Primrose bank, where Violet flowersSmell sweetly, and the meads in bloomy prime,’Till Flora’s clock, the Goat’s Beard, mark the hours,And closing says, Arise, ’tis dinner time;Then dine on Pyes and Cauliflower heads,And roam away the afternoon in Tulip Beds.
To sit and smoke between two rows of Limes,Along the wall of some neat old Dutch town,In noontide heat, and hear the jingling chimesFrom Stadhouse Steeple; then to lay one downUpon a Primrose bank, where Violet flowersSmell sweetly, and the meads in bloomy prime,’Till Flora’s clock, the Goat’s Beard, mark the hours,And closing says, Arise, ’tis dinner time;Then dine on Pyes and Cauliflower heads,And roam away the afternoon in Tulip Beds.
To give an idea of the general face of nature at this period, Dr. Forster composed the subjoined
Catalogue of Plants which compose theVERNAL FLORAin the Garden.
Common PeonyPaeonia officinalisin full blow.
Slenderleaved PeonyP. tenuifoliagoing off.
Crimson PeonyP. peregrina.
Dwarf PeonyP. humilis.
TulipTulipa Gesnerianain infinite varieties.
Monkey PoppyPapaver Orientale.
Welch PoppyP. Cambricum.
Pale PoppyP. nudicaule.
European GlobeflowerTrollius Europaeus.
Asiatic GlobeflowerTrollius Asiaticus.
Bachelor’s ButtonsRanunculus aeris plenus.
Biflowered NarcissusN. biflorus.
Poetic NarcissusN. poeticus.
German Fleur de LisIris Germanica, two varieties.
Lurid IrisIris lurida.
WallflowerChieranthus cheiri, numerously, both single and double sorts.
Stock GilliflowerChiranthus fruticulosusbeginning. Of this plant there are red, white, and purple varieties; also double Stocks.
Yellow AsphodelAsphodelus luteus.
ColumbineAquilegia vulgarisbegins to flower, and has several varieties in gardens.
Great Star of BethlehemOrnithogalum umbellatum.
Peruvian SquillScilla Peruviana.
Yellow AzaleaAzalea Pontica.
Scarlet AzaleaAzalea nudiflora.
Purple GoatsbeardTragopogon porrifolius.
Yellow GoatsbeardTragopogon pratensis.
MotherwortHesperis matronalisbegins to blow.
Great Leopard’s BaneDoronicum pardalianches.
Lesser Leopard’s BaneDoronicum plantagineum.
RamshornsorMale OrchisO. masculastill blows.
Female OrchisOrchis moriostill flowers.
In the Fields.
The HarebellScylla nutansmakes the ground blue in some places.
Bulbous CrowfootRanunculus bulbosus.
Creeping CrowfootR. repensnow common.
Upright Meadow CrowfootR. acristhe latest of all.
Rough CrowfootR. hirsutusnot so common as the above. The fields are quite yellow with the above genus.
Meadow LychnisLychnis Flos Cuculi.
Campion LychnisLychnis dioicaunder hedges in our chalky soils.
Germander SpeedwellVeronica chamaedrison banks, covering them with its lively blue, comparable only to the Borage, or theCynoglossum Omphalodes, still blowing and luxuriant in gardens.
Mousear Scorpion GrassMyosotus Scorpioides.
Our Lady’s SmockCardamine pratensis.
Bitter Lady’s SmockCardamine amara.
Hedge GeraniumGeranium Robertianum; also several other wild Geraniums.
KidlockSinapis arvensis.
CharlockRaphanus Raphanistrum.
StichwortStellaria Holostea.
Yellow Water LilyNuphar luteumin ponds and rivers.
White Water LilyNymphea albain the same.
We might add numerous others, which will be found noticed on the days when they usually first flower. Besides these, many of the plants of the Primaveral Florastill remain in blow, as violets, hearteases, hepaticas, narcissi, some hyacinths, marsh marigolds, wood anemonies, garden anemonies, &c. &c. The cuckoo pint, or lord and lady Arum, is now in prime.
The nations among whom a taste for flowers was first discovered to prevail in modern times, were China, Persia, and Turkey. The vegetable treasures of the eastern world were assembled at Constantinople, whence they passed into Italy, Germany, and Holland, and from the latter into England; and since botany has assumed the character of a science, we have laid the whole world under contribution for trees, and shrubs, and flowers, which we have not only made our own, but generally improved in vigour and beauty. The passion for flowers preceded that of ornamental gardening. The Dutch system of straight walks, enclosed by high clipped hedges of yew or holly, at length prevailed; and tulips and hyacinths bloomed under the sheltered windings of the “Walls of Troy,†most ingeniously traced in box and yew. A taste for gardening, which, however formal, is found at length to be preferable to the absurd winding paths, and the close imitation of wild nature by art, which modern garden-makers have pretended to of late years. The learned baron Maseres used to say, “Such a garden was to be had every where wild in summer, and in a garden formality was preferable.â€