May 4.

“A pie sat on a pear tree,A pie sat on a pear tree,A pie sat on a pear tree,Heigh oh! heigh oh! heigh oh!”

At the conclusion, the person sitting next to the singer continues the strainthus,—

“And once so merrily hopp’d she;”

during which the first singer is obliged to drink a bumper, and should he be unable to empty his glass before the last line is sung, he must begin again until he succeeds.

The difficulty consists in swallowing the liquor fast enough, many getting tipsy before they are able to accomplish it. This of course goes round the party, until the whole are either completely “knocked up,” save a few who from the capacity of their throats are so fortunate as to escape. Your inserting the above in theEvery-Day Bookwill much oblige, Sir, &c.

J. F.

The preceding is from a valued correspondent, on whose veracity full reliance is placed by the editor; he will nevertheless be happy to hear thatthisusage is on the decline.

Mean Temperature 52·67.

For thismovable feastsee vol. i. p. 651, 643.

For the Every-Day Book.

Unless the historians of Derbyshire have been very negligent in their inquiries, the peak differs exceedingly from mountainous tracts in general, where the customs, manners, and language of antiquity are preserved with peculiar care.The language, indeed, has retained its olden character, but of peculiar customs little is known. In Lysons’ “Magna Britannia,” the practices of rush-bearing, of hanging up white gloves and garlands of roses in the churches, at the funerals of young maidens,—of foot-ball plays, now confined to Derby, and this well-dressing of Tissington are the sum total of those notices under the head of “Country Customs.” A correspondent communicated to theEvery-Day Bookin March, acustomexisting near Tideswell; and I have seen it stated in a provincial paper, that a right is claimed in the Peak Forest of marrying after the fashion of Gretna Green, and that such a wedding actually took place not very long ago. Something more of this should be known.

Tissington well-dressing is a festivity, which not only claims a high antiquity, but is one of the few country fêtes which are kept up with any thing like the ancient spirit. It is one which is heartily loved and earnestly anticipated. One which draws the hearts of those who were brought up there, but whom fortune has cast into distant places, homewards with an irresistible charm. I have not had the pleasure of witnessing it, but I have had that of seeing the joy which sparkled in the eyes of the Tissingtonians as they talked of its approach, and of their projected attendance. Long before the time arrives, they have canvassed the neighbourhoods where they reside, for flowers to take with them: and these flowers, in all the instances which have come under my notice have beenred daisies, and none else. If, however, John Edwards, in his poem, “The Tour of the Dove,” be correct, others must be used, and those wildflowers:—

“Still Dovedale yield thy flowers to deck the fountainsOf Tissington, upon its holyday;The customs long preserved among the mountainsShould not be lightly left to pass away.They have their moral; and we often mayLearn from them how our wise forefathers wrought,When they upon the public mind would laySome weighty principle, some maxim broughtHome to their hearts, the healthful product of deep thought.”

In a note he adds;—“The custom of decorating wells with flowers, and attending them with religious services and festive rejoicings on Holy Thursday, is not peculiar to Tissington. Many other wells have been committed to the patronage of the saints, and treated with reverence; some on account of the purity, and others for the medicinal virtues of their waters. St. Alkmund’s well at Derby, is an instance of the former class, where the name has been continued long after the superstition which gave it has passed away. In the dark ages of popery, this veneration for holy wells was carried to an idolatrous excess, insomuch, that in the reigns of Edgar and Canute, it was found necessary to issue edicts prohibiting well-worship. But the principle of veneration for waters, if restricted within its proper bounds, is amiable: indeed, it seems to have been implanted in the breast of man in all ages. A fountain is the emblem of purity and benevolence. From the days when the patriarchs journeyed in the wilderness, down to the present period—whether bursting from the arid sands of the African desert, or swelling out its genial waters amid the Greenland snows—its soft melody, its refreshing virtues, and its transparency, have ever been a subject of delight and interest to the human race. Who could have approached the Bethesda of the Jews with a callous heart? Who could have listened to the song of Israel with indifference, when her princes had digged the well, and her nobles and lawgiver stood around it?”

Rhodes, who has traversed almost every part of the peak with indefatigable zeal, gives the following account in his “Peak Scenery.” “An ancient custom still prevails in the village of Tissington, to which indeed it appears to be confined, for I have not met with any thing of a similar description in any other part of Derbyshire. It is denominatedwell-flowering, and Holy Thursday is devoted to the rites and ceremonies of this elegant custom. This day is regarded as a festival; and all the wells in the place, five in number,are decorated with wreaths and garlands of newly-gathered flowers, disposed in various devices. Sometimes boards are used, which are cut to the figure intended to be represented, and covered with moist clay, into which the stems of the flowers are inserted to preserve their freshness; and they are so arranged as to form a beautiful mosaic work, often tasteful in design, and vivid in colouring: the boards, thus adorned, are so placed in the spring, that the water appears to issue from amongst beds of flowers. On this occasion the villagers put on their best attire, and open their houses to their friends. There is service at the church, where a sermon is preached: afterwards a procession takes place, and the wells are visited in succession: the psalms for the day, the epistle and gospel are read, one at each well, and the whole concludes with a hymn which is sung by the church singers, and accompanied by a band of music. This done, they separate, and the remainder of the day is spent in rural sports and holiday pastimes.

The custom of well-flowering as it exists at Tissington, is said to be a popish relic; but in whatever way it originated, one would regret to see it discontinued. That it is of great antiquity cannot be disputed; it seems to have existed at different periods of time, in countries far remote from each other. In the earliest ages of poetry and romance, wherever fountains and wells were situated, the common people were accustomed to honour them with the title of saints. In our own country innumerable instances occur of wells being so denominated.” “Where a spring rises or a river flows,” says Seneca, “there should we build altars, and offer sacrifices.” At the fountain of Arethusa in Syracuse, of which every reader of poetry and history has often heard, great festivals were celebrated every year. In Roman antiquity thefontinaliawere religious feasts, held in honour of the nymphs of wells and fountains; the ceremony consisted in throwing nosegays into fountains, and putting crowns of flowers upon wells. Many authorities might be quoted in support of the antiquity of this elegant custom, which had its origin anterior to the introduction of christianity. It was mingled with the rites and ceremonies of the heathens, who were accustomed to worship streams and fountains, and to suppose that the nymphs, whom they imagined the goddesses of the waters, presided over them. Shaw in his “History of the Province of Morray,” says, that “heathen customs were much practised amongst the people there;” and he cites as an instance, “that they performed pilgrimages to wells, and built chapels to fountains.”

“From this ancient usage, which has been continued through a long succession of ages, and is still in existence at Tissington, arose the practice of sprinkling the Severn and the rivers of Wales with flowers, as alluded to by Dyer in his poem of theFleeceand by Milton in hisComus.—

——————With light fantastic toe the nymphsThither assembled, thither every swain;And o’er the dimpled stream a thousand flowers,Pale lilies, roses, violets and pinks,Mixed with the green of burnet, mint, and thyme,And trefoil, sprinkled with their sportive arms:Such custom holds along the irriguous vales,From Wreakin’s brow to archy Dolvoryn.Dyer.

Dyer.

———————The shepherds at their festivalsCarol her good deeds loud in rustic lays,And throw sweet garland wreaths into her stream,Of pancies, pinks, and gaudy daffodils.Milton.”

———————The shepherds at their festivalsCarol her good deeds loud in rustic lays,And throw sweet garland wreaths into her stream,Of pancies, pinks, and gaudy daffodils.

Milton.”

I hope some of your correspondents will contribute to our information by accounts of well-dressings in other parts of the kingdom.

The town of Shaftesbury from its situation on the top of a high hill, is entirely destitute of springs; except at the foot of the hills in St. James’s parish, where are two wells, in the possession of private persons. At the foot of Castle-hill were formerly some water-works, to supply the town, their reservoir was on the top of the Butter cross; but the inhabitants have from time immemorial been supplied with water brought on horse’s backs, or on people’s heads, from three or four large wells, a quarter of a mile below the town in the hamlet of Motcomb, and parish of Gillingham; on which account there is this particular custom yearly observed by ancient agreement, dated 1662, between the lord of the manor of Gillingham, and the mayor and burgesses of Shaftesbury. The mayor is obliged the Monday before Holy Thursday to dress up a prize besom, orbyzant, as they call it, somewhat like a May garland in form, with gold and peacock’s feathers, and carry it to Enmore Green, half a mile below the town, in Motcomb, as an acknowledgment for the water; together with a raw calf’s head, a pair of gloves, a gallon of beer, or ale, and two penny loaves of white wheaten bread, which the steward receives, and carries away to his own use. The ceremony being over, the “byzant” is restored to the mayor, and brought back by one of his officers with great solemnity. This “byzant” is generally so richly adorned with plate and jewels, borrowed from the neighbouring gentry, as to be worth not less than1500l.[175]

Holy Thursday was formerly a day of great festivity at Beziers, in France, and was celebrated with a variety of little sports.

“The Procession of the Camel” constituted one part of them. A figure representing that animal, with a man in the inside, was made to perform ridiculous tricks. The municipal officers, attended by the companies of the different trades and manufactures, preceded the camel. It was followed by a cart, over which were branches of trees twined into an arbour, filled with people: the cart was drawn by mules ornamented with bunches of flowers and ribands; a number of people stuck over with flowers and little twigs of trees, who were called the “wild men,” followed the cart and closed the procession. After parading about the town all day, towards evening the whole company repaired to the chapel of the Blue Penitents, where it was met by the chapter of the cathedral, who had previously also gone in procession round the town, and then a large quantity of bread was given away by the chapter among the poor.

Another part of the ceremonies of the day was, that the peasants from the country assembled in the streets with crooks in their hands, and ranging themselves in long files on each side, made mock skirmishes with their crooks, aiming strokes at each other, and parrying them with great dexterity. Each of these skirmishes ended with a dance to the fife and tabourine. The inhabitants threw sugar-plums and dried fruits at each other from their windows, or as they passed in the streets.

The day usually concluded by a favourite dance among the young men and women, calledla danse des treilles. Every dancer carried acerceau, as it is called, that is a half hoop, twined with vine branches; and ranging themselves in long files on each, side of the street, formed different groups. The young men were all dressed in white jackets and trowsers, and the young women in white jackets with short petticoats, and ornaments of flowers and ribands. These sports of Beziers were suspended during therevolution.[176]

Mean Temperature 52·77.

[175]Hutchins’s Dorset.[176]Miss Plumptre.

[175]Hutchins’s Dorset.

[176]Miss Plumptre.

The Indexes, &c.to theEvery-Day Book, Vol. I.were published on the 5th of May, 1826.

The new preface to the volume is particularly addressed to the notice ofcorrespondents, and I shall be particularly obliged ifevery readerof the work will favour it with attentive perusal.

It should be observed of Joseph Baretti, who died on this day in the year 1789, that he was the friend and associate of Johnson, who introduced him to the Thrale family, and whom he assisted in the compilation of his “Dictionary of the English Language.”

Baretti was a native of Turin; he had received a good education, and inherited paternal property, which in his youth he soon gambled away, and resorted to a livelihood by teaching Italian to some English gentlemen at Venice; whence he repaired to England, and distinguished himself as a teacher of Italian. By his employment under Dr. Johnson, he acquired such a knowledge of our language as to be enabled to compile the “Italian and English Dictionary,” which is still in use. He then revisited his native country, and after an absence of six years returned through Spain and Portugal, and in 1768 published “An Account of the Manners and Customs of Italy,” in reply to some querulous strictures on that country in the “Letters from Italy” by surgeon Sharp, which Baretti’s book effectually put down, with no small portion both of humour and argument. Not long afterwards, he was accosted in the Haymarket by a woman, whom he repulsed with a degree of roughness which was resented by her male confederates, and in the scuffle, he struck one of them with a French pocket dessert knife. On this, the man pursued and collared him; when Baretti, still more alarmed, stabbed him repeatedly with the knife, of which wounds he died on the following day. He was immediately taken into custody, and tried for murder at the Old Bailey, when Johnson, Burke, Goldsmith, Garrick, Reynolds, and Beauclerk gave testimony to his good character; and although he did not escape censure for his too ready resort to a knife, he was acquitted. Domesticated in the Thrale family, he accompanied them and Dr. Johnson to Paris, but in a fit of unreasonable disgust, quitted them the next year; and in the latter part of his life was harassed with pecuniary difficulties, which were very little alleviated by his honorary post of foreign secretary to the Royal Academy, and an ill-paid pension of eighty pounds per annum under the North administration. Among other works he published one with the singular title of “Tolondron: Speeches to John Bowles about his edition of Don Quixote, together with some account of Spanish Literature.” This was his last production; his constitution was broken by uneasiness of mind and frequent attacks of the gout, and he died in May, 1789.

Baretti was rough and cynical in appearance, yet a pleasant companion; and of his powers in conversation Johnson thought very highly.

He communicated several of Dr. Johnson’s letters to the “European Magazine,” and intended to publish several more; but on his decease his papers fell into the hands of ignorant executors, who barbarously committed them to theflames.[177]

It is remarkable that with Johnson’s scrupulous attachment to the doctrines and ceremonies of the church of England, he was sincerely attached to Baretti, whose notions on religious matters widely differed from the opinions of “the great lexicographer.” Johnson seems to have been won by his friend’s love of literature and independence of character. Baretti often refused pecuniary aid when it was greatly needed by his circumstances: his morals were pure, and his conduct, except in the unhappy instance which placed his life in jeopardy, was uniformly correct. He died with the reputation of an honest man.

There is an engraving representing Diogenes at noon-day with his lantern in one hand, and in the other a circular picture frame, which is left vacant, that a purchaser of the print may insert the portrait of the man he delights to honour as the most honest. Hence the vacancy is sometimes supplied by the celebrated John Wilkes, the prophetic Richard Brothers, the polite lord Chesterfield, Churchill, the satirist, Sam House, or Joseph Baretti, or any other. “Cornelius May,” of whose existence, however, there is reason to doubt, would scarcely find a head to grace the frame.

“The Knaverie of the Worlde, sette forthe in homelie verse, by Cornelius May,” from “The Seven Starrs of Witte,” 1647.

Ah me throughoute the worldeDoth wickednesse abounde!And well I wot on neither handeCan honestie be founde.The wisest man in AthensAboute the citie ranWith a lanthorne in the light of daieTo find an honeste man;And when at night he sate him downeTo reckon on his gaines,He onely founde—alack poore man!His labour for his paines.And soe thou now shalt findeAlle men of alle degreeStriving, as if their onely tradeWere that of cheating thee.Thy friend will bid thee welcome,His servantes at thy calle—The dearest friend he has on eartheTill he has wonne thy alle;He will play with thee at diceTill thy golde is in his hande,He will meete thee at the tennis courtTill he winne alle thy lande.The brother of thy youthWhen ye shared booke and beddeWould eat himself the sugar plumsAnd leave thee barley bread:But growing up to manhodeHis hart is colder grown,Aske in thy neede for barley breadAnd he’ll give thee a stone.The wife whom thou dost blesseAlack, she is thy curse—A bachelor’s an evil state,But a married man’s is worse.The lawyer at his deskeGood lawe will promise theeUntill thy very last groatIs given for his fee.Thy baker, and thy brewerDoe wronge thee night and morne;And thy miller, he doth grinde theeIn grinding of thy corne.Thy goldsmith and thy jewellerAre leagu’d in knavish sorte,And the elwande of thy tailorIt is an inche too shorte.Thy cooke hath made thy dishFrom the offals on the shelfe,While fishe and fowle and savourie herbesAre served to himselfe.The valet thou dost trust,Smooth-tongued and placid-faced,Dothe weare thy brilliantes in his cappeAnd thou wear’st his of paste.Alack! thou canst not findeOf high or lowe degreeIn cott or courte or cabinettA man of honestie.There is not in the worlde,Northe, southe, or easte, or weste,Who would maintaine a righteous causeAgainst his intereste.Ah me! it grieves me sore,And I sorrowe nighte and daie,To see how man’s arch enemieDoth leade his soule astraie.

Ah me throughoute the worldeDoth wickednesse abounde!And well I wot on neither handeCan honestie be founde.

The wisest man in AthensAboute the citie ranWith a lanthorne in the light of daieTo find an honeste man;

And when at night he sate him downeTo reckon on his gaines,He onely founde—alack poore man!His labour for his paines.

And soe thou now shalt findeAlle men of alle degreeStriving, as if their onely tradeWere that of cheating thee.

Thy friend will bid thee welcome,His servantes at thy calle—The dearest friend he has on eartheTill he has wonne thy alle;

He will play with thee at diceTill thy golde is in his hande,He will meete thee at the tennis courtTill he winne alle thy lande.

The brother of thy youthWhen ye shared booke and beddeWould eat himself the sugar plumsAnd leave thee barley bread:

But growing up to manhodeHis hart is colder grown,Aske in thy neede for barley breadAnd he’ll give thee a stone.

The wife whom thou dost blesseAlack, she is thy curse—A bachelor’s an evil state,But a married man’s is worse.

The lawyer at his deskeGood lawe will promise theeUntill thy very last groatIs given for his fee.

Thy baker, and thy brewerDoe wronge thee night and morne;And thy miller, he doth grinde theeIn grinding of thy corne.

Thy goldsmith and thy jewellerAre leagu’d in knavish sorte,And the elwande of thy tailorIt is an inche too shorte.

Thy cooke hath made thy dishFrom the offals on the shelfe,While fishe and fowle and savourie herbesAre served to himselfe.

The valet thou dost trust,Smooth-tongued and placid-faced,Dothe weare thy brilliantes in his cappeAnd thou wear’st his of paste.

Alack! thou canst not findeOf high or lowe degreeIn cott or courte or cabinettA man of honestie.

There is not in the worlde,Northe, southe, or easte, or weste,Who would maintaine a righteous causeAgainst his intereste.

Ah me! it grieves me sore,And I sorrowe nighte and daie,To see how man’s arch enemieDoth leade his soule astraie.

Mean Temperature 53·22.

[177]General Biog. Dict.

The bird-catchers are now peering about the fields and thickets in search of different species of song-birds, for the purpose of netting and training them for sale.

Old bird-fanciers treat the younger ones with disdain, as having corrupted the rich melodies of the birds, by battling them against each other, in singing matches, for strength of pipe.

For the Every-Day Book.

Sonnet,Written on hearing my Blackbird,while confined to my Bed by Illness.Bird of the golden beak, thy pensive songFloats visions of the country to my mind;And sweet sounds heard the pleasant woods among,I hear again, while on my bed reclined.Weaken’d in frame, and harass’d by my kind,I long for fair-green fields and shady groves,Where dark-eyed maids their brows with wild flowers bind,And rosy health with meditation roves.Sing on, my bird—as in thy native tree,Sing on—and I will close my burning eyes,Till in my fav’rite haunts again I be,And sweetest music on my ears arise;And waving woods their shades around me close,And sounds of waters lull me to repose.April 16, 1826.S. R. J.

Sonnet,Written on hearing my Blackbird,while confined to my Bed by Illness.

Bird of the golden beak, thy pensive songFloats visions of the country to my mind;And sweet sounds heard the pleasant woods among,I hear again, while on my bed reclined.Weaken’d in frame, and harass’d by my kind,I long for fair-green fields and shady groves,Where dark-eyed maids their brows with wild flowers bind,And rosy health with meditation roves.Sing on, my bird—as in thy native tree,Sing on—and I will close my burning eyes,Till in my fav’rite haunts again I be,And sweetest music on my ears arise;And waving woods their shades around me close,And sounds of waters lull me to repose.

Sing on, my bird—as in thy native tree,Sing on—and I will close my burning eyes,Till in my fav’rite haunts again I be,And sweetest music on my ears arise;And waving woods their shades around me close,And sounds of waters lull me to repose.

April 16, 1826.

S. R. J.

Mean Temperature 54·57.

The Mediterranean produces many sorts of fish unknown to us, the thunny among others. The manner in which these fish are caught is somewhat curious; it is a sort of hunting at sea. The nets are extended in the water so as to close upon the fish when they come within reach of them, and then the boats chase them to that part where they are taken: they have great force in their tails, so that much caution is required in getting them aboard. Vernet among his other sea-pieces has a very good one of this fishery. There are four principal places near Marseilles where it is carried on, called themadragues, which are rented out to the fishers, by the town, at a considerable advantage. When Louis XIII. visited Marseilles in 1662, he was invited to a thunny fishing at the principal madrague of Morgion, and found the diversion so much to his taste, that he often said it was the pleasantest day he had spent in his whole progress through the south.

The thunnies come in such shoals, that in the height of the season, that is, in the months of May and June, from five to six hundred are sometimes taken in a day at one madrague only: they commonly weigh from about ten to twenty or twenty-five pounds each, but they have been known to weigh even as much as fifty pounds. They are very delicious food, but the flesh is so solid that it seems something between fish and meat; it is as firm as sturgeon, but beyond all comparison finer flavoured. They dress this fish in France in a great variety of ways, and always excellent: it makes capital soup, or it is served as a ragout, or plain fried or broiled; pies are made of it, which are so celebrated as to be sent all over France; they will keep good for six weeks or two months. There is also a way of preserving it to keep the whole year round with salt and oil, calledthon mariné: this is eaten cold, as we eat pickled salmon, and is delicious. Besides the great season in May and June, they are caught in considerable numbers in the autumn, about November, which is the great season for making the pies. A large quantity of them were sent to Paris against Buonaparte’s coronation. Stragglers of these fish are occasionally taken the whole year round. They are an ugly fish to the eye.

The palamede, though much smaller than the thunny, seems so much of the same nature that some persons have supposed it only the young thunny; but naturalists say that it is a distinct species of fish. It is mentioned by Gibbon in his description of Constantinople, as, at the time of the foundation of that city, the most celebrated among the variety of excellent fish taken in thePropontis.[178]

Mean Temperature 54·70.

[178]Miss Plumptre.

For the Every-Day Book.

On the eighth of May, at Helston, in Cornwall, is held what is called “the Furry.” The word is supposed by Mr. Polwhele to have been derived from the old Cornish wordfer, a fair or jubilee. The morning is ushered in by the music of drums and kettles, and other accompaniments of a song, a great part of which is inserted in Mr. Polwhele’s history, where this circumstance is noticed. So strict is the observance of this day as a general holiday, that should any person be found at work, he is instantly seized, set astride on a pole, and hurried on men’s shouldersto the river, where he is sentenced to leap over a wide place, which he of course fails in attempting, and leaps into the water. A small contribution towards the good cheer of the day easily compounds for the leap. About nine o’clock the revellers appear before the grammar-school, and demand a holiday for the schoolboys. After which they collect contributions from house to house. They thenfadeinto the country, (fade being an old English word forgo,) and, about the middle of the day, return with flowers and oak branches in their hats and caps. From this time they dance hand in hand through the streets, to the sound of the fiddle, playing a particular tune, running into every house they pass without opposition. In the afternoon, a select party of the ladies and gentlemen make a progress through the street, and very late in the evening repair to the ball-room. A stranger visiting the town on the eighth of May, would really think the people mad; so apparently wild and thoughtless is the merriment of the day.

There is no doubt of “the Furry” originating from the “Floralia,” anciently observed by the Romans on the fourth of the calends ofMay.[179]

“Every pot has two handles.” This means “that one story’s good, till another story’s told;” or, “there is no evil without its advantages.”

If it is generally “good” to anticipate festival days in theEvery-Day Book, it is an “evil” to be “behind-hand;” and yet “advantages” have sometimes resulted from it. For instance, the day of “theFurry” at Helston, elapsed before this sheet was sent to press; but a correspondent who was present at the festival on that day in the present year, 1826, sends an account of the manner wherein it is conducted at present; and though the former “story’s good,” his particular description of the lastFurry, is a lively picture of the pleasant manner, wherein it continues to be celebrated: thus is illustrated the ancient saying, that “every pot has two handles.”

It would be ill acknowledgment of the annexed letter to abridge it, by omitting its brief notice of the origin of the Furry, already adverted to, and therefore the whole is inserted verbatim.

To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.

Sir,—Having for several years past resided in Cornwall, (from whence I have lately returned,) I beg to inform you ofoneof their gayest days of amusement, which is regularly kept up in the borough of Helston on the eighth day of May.

It originated from the Roman custom of paying an early tribute of respect to thegoddessFlora; the garlands of flowers worn on the occasion confirms this opinion. This festival commences at an early hour: the morning is enlivened by the sound of “drum and fife;” and music, harmony, and dance are the sports of “high and low”—“from morn to night.” Some of the oldest townsmen chant someancient ditties—not very comprehensible, “nor is the melody thereof enchanting.”

The hilarity of the day precludes the possibility of doing business; every consideration but mirth, music, and feasting is set at naught. Should any persons be found at work, they are instantly seized, set astride on a pole, and jolted away on men’s shoulders, amidst thousands of huzzas, &c., and at last sentenced to leapoverthe river, (which by the by is none of the narrowest,) the result which therefore frequently happens is—they jumpinto it. The payment of a certain fine towards the expenses of the day saves them from this cooling.

At nine in the morning the mob gathers round the various seminaries, and countless voices demand a holiday for all in them, which is acceded to: a collection from the housekeepers is then commenced towards the general fund. While this is going on, the young folks of both sexes go to the gardens of the neighbourhood, and return at twelve with their heads dressed out with gay flowers, oak branches, &c. On entering the town they are joined by a band of music; they dance through the streets to the “Flora Tune.” In their progress they go through every house and garden they please without distinction; all doors are opened, and, in fact, it is thought much of by the householders to be thus favoured.

Theolderbranch of the population dance in the same manner, for it is to be noticed they have select parties, and at different hours; no two sets dance together, or at the same time. Then follows the gentry, which is really a very pleasing sight on a fine day from the noted respectabilityof this rich borough. In this set the sons and daughters of some of the first and noblest families of Cornwall join. The appearance of the ladies is enchanting. Added to their personal charms, in ball-room attire, each tastefully adorned with beautiful spring flowers, in herself appears to the gazer’s eye aFlora, and leads us to conceive the whole a scene from fairy land. The next set is, the soldiers and their lasses; then come the tradesmen and their wives; journeymen and their sweethearts; and, “though last not least,” the male and female servants in splendid livery; best bibs and tuckers are in request, and many pretty brunettes are to be found in their Sunday finery, with healthy smiling looks, which on such a day as this are sure to make sad havoc with the hearts of the young men.

In the evening a grand ball is always held at the assembly rooms; to which, this year, were added the performance of the “Honey Moon” at the theatre, by Dawson’s company of comedians, Powell’s celebrated troop of horse at the Circus, and Mr. Ingleby’s sleight of hand at the rooms. The borough was thronged with visiters from all parts of the country. It is a pleasing task to conclude by being able to state, that Aurora rose on the ninth without any account of accident or disappointment being experienced by any of its numerous attendants. I have many other anecdotes of Cornwall, which I shall forward you in case you deem them worthy a place in yourEvery-Day Book, to which I wish the success it really deserves.

I am, Sir,Your’s truly,Sam Sam’s Son.

London, May 16, 1826.

⁂ This communication was almost past the time; yet, as we set out with a proverb, we may end with “better late than never;” and, “not to ride a free horse to death,” but merely to “drive the nail that will go,” thanks are offered to “Sam Sam’s Son,” with the hope of early receiving his “future agreeable favours.”

Mean Temperature 55·07.

[179]Guide to Mount’s Bay.

A New York paper of the ninth of May, 1817, announces that in Montgomery county, Mr. Jesse Johnson, being eighteen or nineteen years of age, and four feet one inch high, and weighing about seventy-five pounds, was married to Miss Nancy Fowler, about twenty-six or twenty-seven years of age, six feet two inches high, and weighing about two hundred and fifty pounds. “Sure sucha pairwere never seen.”

Mean Temperature 54·20.

In May, 1736, Henry Justice, of the Middle Temple, Esq., was tried at the Old Bailey, for stealing books out of Trinity-college library in Cambridge. He attempted to defeat the prosecution by pleading, that in the year 1734, he was admitted fellow-commoner of the said college, whereby he became a member of that corporation, and had a property in the books, and therefore could not be guilty of felony, and read several clauses of their charter and statutes to prove it. But after several hours’ debate, it appeared he was only a boarder or lodger, by the words of the charter granted by Henry VIII. and queen Elizabeth. He was found guilty.

On the tenth of the month, having been put to the bar to receive sentence, he moved, that as the court had a discretionary power, he might be burnt in the hand and not sent abroad; first, for the sake of his family, as it would be an injury to his children and to his clients, with several of whom he had great concerns, which could not be settled in that time; secondly, for the sake of the university, for he had numbers of books belonging to them, some in friends’ hands, and some sent to Holland, and if he was transported he could not make restitution. As to himself, considering his circumstances, he had rather go abroad, having lived in credit till this unhappy mistake, as he called it, and hoped the university would intercede for him. The deputy-recorder commiserated his case, told him how greatly his crime was aggravated by his education and profession, and then sentenced him to be transported to some of his majesty’s plantations in America for seven years.

Mean Temperature 53·87.

The establishment of this institution is of so great importance to the health and manners of the metropolis, that to pass it unregarded would be inexcusable. Much of mental infirmity proceeds from bodily infirmity. Without activity, the entire human being is diseased. A disposition to inactivity generates imbecility of character; diligence ceases, indolence prevails, unnatural feelings generate unnatural desires, and the individual not only neglects positive duties, but becomes sensual and vicious. The “London Gymnastic Society,” therefore, in a national point of view is of the highest regard. A letter, subjoined, will be found to represent some of its exercises and advantages in an agreeable and interesting manner.

To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.

Sir,—On the twenty-second of March, not less than fifteen hundred persons assembled at the Mechanics’ Institute for the purpose of forming a “London Gymnastic Society.” This event is likely to have very important and useful results to the community, and, therefore, within the plan of theEvery-Day Bookto record. I have no intention to describe what passed on the occasion, any further than by stating that a series of resolutions in support of the proposed object were unanimously adopted; and as great misconception prevails as to the nature of gymnastic exercises, some light on the subject, beyond that conveyed in your first volume, may be interesting.

The grounds on which the use of exercise generally are recommended, are precisely those from which the benefits of this particular class are to be inferred; with this advantage in favour of gymnastics, that they combine the advantages of almost every other species. If it be desirable that the body should be strengthened, the limbs acquire flexibility, the muscles be brought into full play, and the spirits be invigorated, gymnastics must be allowed to be salutary for such are their ordinary effects. Moreover, if it be desirable that a man should become acquainted with his physical capabilities, in order that he may be encouraged to exert them on suitable occasions, within the compass of safety, and be aware when he is in danger of trespassing beyond the proper limit, gymnastics must be beneficial, for they instruct him where that limit lies, and give him entire confidence within it. And so gradual are the steps by which the pupil is led on towards proficiency, now mastering a small difficulty, then advancing to one a little greater, then to another, and another, that at last he accomplishes the evolution which at one time appeared to him of greatest difficulty with more facility than he at first accomplished the first lesson; while all the time he has been acquiring in the process increased capability, strength, confidence, and presence of mind. For the utility of these exercises does not end in the gymnasium; it only begins there. The performances of the evolutions aremeansby which great ends are attained; the vigour acquired in performing them, being afterwards useful wherever vigour may be required.

In thepreliminary exercises, the pupil is taught to accustom himself to extend his arms and legs in various natural positions, in quick succession; sometimes exerting the arms only, the legs resting passive, sometimes the reverse; and sometimes exerting both legs and arms together. These exercises are not so strictly preliminary as to require the pupil to become perfect in them before he engages in others. On the contrary, he may with advantage, at a very early stage, combine them with those of greater difficulty; and also at an advanced stage, find it useful occasionally to recur to them. But let us proceed to the bars.

Thebarsconsist of two pieces of wood placed parallel, in a horizontal position, on supporters, extending breast-high from the ground. The pupil having raised himself erect between the bars (they are something less than two feet apart, and about five feet in length) passes from one end to the other by the help of his hands only, moving one hand forward at a time, as the feet are moved in walking. He next places himself in the centre between the bars, and keeping his legs straight and close together projects them over the right hand bar, and so arrives on the ground. He then does the same on the left side, then on the right side backwards, either with or without previously swinging, then on the left side backwards in the same way. He next resumes his positionat the end of the bars; but instead of walking or treading along the bars with his hands, as in the first exercise, he this time lifts both hands together, and passes to the other end by short jumps. He then returns to the centre of the bars, and retaining hold of them, projects his body over the left hand bar, from which position, by slightly springing, he projects himself over that on his right. This evolution he performs also on both sides, and later in his progress backwards also. Then there is the half moon, or semi-circle, which is performed by projecting the legs over one of the bars in front, and then bringing them back, and swinging them over the same bar behind. As the pupil advances, he is enabled to project himself over the bars unassisted by the lower part of his arms; also to rest the lower part of his arms on the bars, and from that position to raise himself erect by the hands only, repeating the evolution several times in succession, to pass from one side of the bar to the other, without touching the ground, and many other evolutions all conducing in one way or another to the strength and elasticity of his frame.

Thehorizontalpoles are placed at various heights from the ground, according to the height of the pupil, and the exercises to be performed on them. Those chiefly used are a few inches above the head. One of the first lessons on the pole is analogous to the first on the parallel bars, the pupil passing from one end of the pole to the other, by the help of his hands only, first by moving one hand at a time as in walking, afterwards by moving both hands together. Grasping the pole with both hands, the pupil is taught to raise himself in various ways above it—to pass over it—to pass from one side of the pole to the other, &c. &c. The exercises on the pole are equal in diversity to those on the bars, perhaps on the whole more arduous, and certainly equally beneficial. I believe the arms and back are particularly strengthened by this diversion of the exercises.

Leaving the pole, let us attend a moment to themasts, theropes, and theladders. These are of various heights and dimensions. The pupil first learns to climb the rope and mast by the assistance of his hands and feet, afterwards by his hands only, and by degrees he learns to ascend the latter without the assistance of his feet or legs. The leaping with and without a pole, jumping, running, throwing the javelin, the use of the broad sword, &c., do not require description as they are more or less familiar to every one. I therefore confine myself to naming them, and observing that familiar as some of them are, the regulations under which they are practised tend greatly to increase theirutility.[180]

There is still a division of these exercises which I have not mentioned, and which deserves a full description, and that is, the exercises on the horse—a wooden horse—without head or tail—but, as I feel myself quite unable to bear anything like adequate testimony to the merits of this very useful and quiet quadruped, I must reluctantly leave his eulogium to others more competent. It is a subject I cannot well get upon, being but a very indifferent equestrian.

I remain, Sir, &c.A Parallel Barrister.

To all individuals of sedentary occupations, in great towns and cities, gymnastic exercises are of immense benefit. It is difficult to convince, but it is a duty to attempt persuading them, that their usual habits waste the spirits, destroy health, and shorten life. Hundreds of Londoners die every year for want of exercise.

It is not necessary that we should cultivate gymnastics “after the manner of the ancients,” but only so much as may be requisite to maintain the even tenour of existence. The state of society in towns, continually imposes obstructions to health, and offers inducements to the slothful, in the shape of palliatives, which ultimately increase “the miseries of human life.” Exercise is both a prevention and a remedy; but, we must not mistake—diligence is not, therefore, exercise.

Our present pastimes are almost all within doors; the old ones were in the open air. Our ancestors danced “on the green” in the day time; we, if we dance at all, move about in warm rooms at night: and then there are the“late hours;” the “making a toil of a pleasure;” the lying in bed late the next morning; the incapacity to perform duties in consequence of “recreation!” The difference to health is immense—if it be doubted, inquire of physicians. The difference to morals is not less—if reflection be troublesome, read the proceedings in courts of justice, and then reflect. We have much to unlearn.

It is a real amusement to go to a theatre, and see an indolent audience sitting to witness feats of agility.

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