Part 2

I was educated for the church, but my father died while I was at college, and I lost the curacy, which was in the gift of my uncle, through the pretty face of a city merchant's daughter, who wrote a sonnet to my worthy relative on his recovery from a fit of the gout, and obtained the curacy for her brother in exchange for her effusion. What was to be done? I offered myself as tutor to a young gentleman who was to study the classics until he was of age, and then to turn fox-hunter to supply the place of his deceased father; but I was considered by his relations to be too good-looking to be domesticated in the house of a rich widow under fifty, and I had the satisfaction of seeing the vacant seat in the family coach filled by an old, sandy-haired M.A., with bow legs and a squint--handsome or ugly, it availed not; a face had twice ruined my prospects; I was at my wit's end! I could not turn fine gentleman, for I had not brass enough to make my veracity a pander to my voracity; I could not turn tradesman, for I had not gold enough even to purchase a yard measure, or to lay in a stock of tapes. My heart bounded at the idea of the army; but I thought of it like a novice--of wounds and gallant deeds; of fame and laurels; I was obliged to look closer--my relations were neither noblemen nor bankers, and I found that even the Colonial corps were becoming aristocratical and profuse; the navy--I walked from London to Chatham on speculation; saw the second son of an earl covered with tar, out at elbows and at heels, and I returned to town, fully satisfied that here I certainly had no chance. I offered myself as clerk to a wealthy brewer, and, at length, I was accepted-- this was an opening! I registered malt, hops, ale, and small-beer, till I began to feel as though the world was one vast brewhouse; and calculated, added, and subtracted pounds, shillings, and pence, until all other lore appeared "stale, flat, and unprofitable." I was in this counting-house four years, and was, finally, discharged by my prudent principal as an unthrifty servant, for having, during a day of unusual business, cut up two entire quills, and overturned the inkstand on a new ledger! Again "the world was all before me where to choose"--but enough of this; suffice it that my choice availed me nothing, and after years of struggling and striving, I found myself, as free as air, in a small market town in England, with five shillings in my pocket, and sundry grey hairs on my head. From mere dearth of occupation, I took my station at the window of a small stationer's shop, and commenced a survey of the volumes and pamphlets which were attractively opened at the title-pages to display their highly coloured frontispieces. The first which I noticed was, "The Young Gentleman's Multiplication Table, or Two and Two make Four"--I sighed as I remembered how little this promising study had availed _me_! Then came "Little Tom Tucker, he sang for his Supper"--I would have danced for one. "Young's Night Thoughts," with a well dressed gentleman in mourning, looking at the moon. "How to Grow Rich, or a Penny Saved is a Penny Got;" I would have bought the book, and learned the secret, though I had but five shillings left in the world, had not the second part of the title intimated to me that I ought to keep my money. "The Castle of St. Altobrand," where a gentleman in pea-green might be seen communing with a lady in sky-blue. "Raising the Wind"--I turned away with a shudder; I had played a part in this drama for years, and I well knew it was no farce. "The Polite Letter-Writer, or"--I did not stop to read more; an idea flashed through my mind, and in two minutes more I was beside the counter of the stationer; we soon became acquainted; I left two and sixpence in his shop, and quitted it with renewed hope; the promise of a recommendation, two quires of letter paper, twelve good quills, and some ink in a small phial. I rejoiced at having made a friend, even of the stationer, for my pride and my property had long been travelling companions, and were seldom at home. On the following day, a placard was pasted to a window on the ground floor of a neat house, in the best street, announcing that "within, letters were written on all subjects, for all persons, with precision and secrecy;" I shall never forget the tremor with which I awaited the arrival of a customer! I had sunk half of my slender capital, and encumbered myself with a lodging; I did not dare to think, so I sat down and began, resolutely, to sharpen my penknife on the sole of my fearfully dilapidated shoe; then, I spread my paper before me; divided the quires; looked carefully through a sheet of it at the light; laid it down again; began to grow melancholy; shook off reflection as I would have done a serpent, and again betook myself most zealously to the sharpening of my penknife. A single, well articulated stroke on the door of my apartment, roused me at once to action, and I shouted, "come in," with nervous eagerness; it opened, and gave egress to a staid matron, of high stature, and sharp countenance; I would have pledged my existence on her shrewishness from the first moment I beheld her. When I had placed a chair for her, and reseated myself, this prelude to my prosperity commenced business at once.

"You're a letter-writer, Mr. What-d'ye-call-'em."

I bowed assent.

"Silent--"

"As the grave, madam."

This sufficed; the lady took a pinch of snuff--told me that she had been recommended to employ me by Mr. Quireandquill; and I prepared for action. She had a daughter young, beautiful, and innocent--but gay, affectionate, and thoughtless; she had given her heart in keeping to one who, though rich in love, lacked all other possessions; and, finally, she had bestowed her hand where affection prompted. But the chilled heart feels not like that which is warm with youth--its pulses beat not to the same measure--its impulses impel not to the same arts; the mother felt as a guardian and a parent--the daughter as a woman and a fond one; the one had been imprudent--the other was inexorable; my first task was to be the unwrenching of the holy bonds which united a child and her parent,--the announcement of an abandonment utter and irrevocable; I wrote the letter, and if I softened down a few harsh expressions, and omitted some sentences of heart-breaking severity, surely it was no breach of faith, or if, indeed, it were, it was one for which, even at this time, I do not blush.

The old lady saw her letter sealed and addressed, and departed; and I hastily partook of a scanty breakfast, the produce of my first episolatory speculation. I need not have been so precipitate in dispatching my repast, for some dreary hours intervened ere the arrival of another visiter. One, however, came at length; a tremulous, almost inaudible, stroke upon the door, and a nervous clasp of the latch, again spoke hope to my sinking spirits; and, with a swift step, I rose and gave admittance to a young and timid girl, blushing, and trembling, and wondering, as it seemed, at the extent of her own daring. This business was not so readily despatched as that of the angry matron. There were a thousand promises of secrecy to be given; a thousand tremors to be overcome.

"I am a poor girl, Sir," she said at length, "but I am an honest one; therefore, before I take up your time, I must know whether I can afford to pay for it."

"That," said I, and even amid my poverty I could not suppress a feeling of amusement, "that depends wholly on the subject of your epistle; business requires few words, and less ingenuity, and is fairly paid for by a couple of shillings; but a love letter is cheap at three and sixpence, for it requires an infinity of each."

"Then I may as well wish you good day at once, Sir, for I have but half-a-crown in the world that I can call my own, and I cannot run into debt, even to write to Charles." There was a tear in her eye as she rose to go, and it was a beautiful blue eye, better fitted to smiles than tears; this was enough, and, even poor as I was, I would not have missed the opportunity of writing this letter, though I had been a loser by the task. Happy Charles! I wrote from her dictation, and it is wonderful how well the heart prompts to eloquence, even among the uneducated and obscure. In all honesty, though I had but jested with my pretty employer, this genuine love-letter was well worth the three and sixpence--it was written, and crossed, and rewritten at right angles, and covered on the folds and under the wafer, and, finally, unsealed to insert a few "more last words." It was a very history of the heart!--of a heart untainted by error--unsophisticated by fashion--unfettered by the world's ways: a little catalogue of woman's best, and tenderest, and holiest feelings, warm from the spirit's core, and welling out like the pure waters of a ground spring. How the eye fell, and the voice sunk, as she recorded some little doubt, some fond self-created fear; how the tones gladdened, and the blue eyes laughed out in joy, as she spoke of hopes and prospects, to which she clung trustingly, as woman ever does to her first affection. What would I not have given to have been the receiver of such a letter?--What to have been the idol of such a heart? And, as she eagerly bent over me to watch the progress of her epistle, her hand resting on my arm, and her warm breath playing over my brow, while at intervals a fond sigh escaped her, she from time to time reminded me of the promises I had made never to betray her secret-- beautiful innocent! I would have died first. She was with me nearly two hours, and left me with a flushed cheek, her letter in one hand and her half-crown in the other--had I robbed her of it, I should have merited the pillory.

My third customer was a stiff, tall, bony man, of about fifty-five, and for this worthy I wrote an advertisement for a wife. He was thin, and shy, and emaciated--a breathing skeleton, in the receipt of some hundred and twenty pounds a-year; a martyr to the rheumatism, and a radical. He required but little; a moderate fortune; tolerable person; good education; perfect housewifery; implicit obedience; and, finally, wound up the list of requisites from mere lack of breath, and modestly intimated that youth would not be considered an objection, provided that great prudence and rigid economy accompanied it. He was the veriest antidote to matrimony I ever beheld!

My calling prospered. I wrote letters of condolence and of congratulation; made out bills, and composed valentines; became the friend of every pretty girl and fine youth in the parish; and never breathed one of their mighty secrets in the wrong quarter. In the midst of this success, a new ambition fired me--I had been an author for months; but though I had found my finances more flourishing, the bays bloomed not upon my brow; and I was just about to turn author in good earnest, when a distant relation died, and bequeathed to me an annuity of four hundred pounds a-year; and I have been so much engaged ever since in receiving the visits of some hitherto unknown relatives and connexions, that I have only been able to compose the title-page, and to send this hint to destitute young gentlemen who may have an epistolatory turn; and to such I offer the assurance, that there is pleasure in being the depositary of a pretty girl's secrets. "There are worse occupations in the world, _Yorick_, than feeling a woman's pulse."--_The Inspector_.

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SUNRISE AT MOUNT ETNA.

Of a sunrise at Mount Etna, an acute traveller remarks, no imagination can form an idea of this glorious and magnificent scene. Neither is there on the surface of this globe any one point that unites so many awful and sublime objects:--the immense elevation from the surface of the earth, drawn as it were to a single apex, without any neighbouring mountain for the senses and imagination to rest upon, and recover from their astonishment in their way down to the world--and this point, or pinnacle raised on the brink of a bottomless gulf, often discharging rivers of fire, and throwing out burning rocks, with a noise that shakes the whole island. Add to this, the unbounded extent of the prospect, comprehending the greatest diversity, and the most beautiful scenery in nature; with the rising sun advancing in the east to illuminate the wondrous scene. The whole atmosphere by degrees kindled up, and showed dimly and faintly the boundless prospect around. Both sea and land looked dark and confused, as if only emerging from their original chaos; and light and darkness seemed still undivided, till the morning by degrees advancing, completed the separation. The stars are extinguished, and the shades disappear. The forests, which but now seemed black and bottomless gulfs, from whence no ray was reflected to show their form or colours, appear a new creation rising to the sight, catching life and beauty from every increasing beam. The scene still enlarges, and the horizon seems to widen and expand itself on all sides; till the sun appears in the east, and with his plastic ray completes the mighty scene. All appears enchantment; and it is with difficulty we can believe we are still on earth. The senses, unaccustomed to such objects, are bewildered and confounded; and it is not till after some time that they are capable of separating and judging of them. The body of the sun is seen rising from the ocean, immense tracks both of sea and land intervening; various islands appear under your feet; and you look down on the whole of Sicily as on a map, and can trace every river through all its windings, from its source to its mouth. The view is absolutely boundless on every side; nor is there any one object within the circle of vision to interrupt it; so that the sight is every where lost in the immensity; and there is little doubt, that were it not for the imperfection of our organs, the coasts of Africa, and even of Greece, would be discovered, as they are certainly above the horizon.--_Time's Telescope_.

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GARRICK'S MULBERRY CUP.

In the garden attached to New Place, flourished a mulberry-tree, which Shakspeare had planted with his own hands; and in 1742, when Garrick and Macklin visited Stratford, they were regaled beneath its venerable branches by Sir Hugh Clopton, who, instead of pulling down New Place according to Malone's assertion, repaired it, and did every thing in his power for its preservation. The Rev. Francis Gastrell purchased the building from Sir Hugh Clopton's heir, and being disgusted with the trouble of showing the mulberry-tree to so many visitors, he caused this interesting and beautiful memorial of Shakspeare to be cut down, to the great mortification of his neighbours, who were so enraged at his conduct, that they soon rendered the place, out of revenge, too disagreeable for him to remain in it. He therefore was obliged to quit it; and the tree, being purchased by a carpenter, was retailed and cut out in various relics.

The catalogue of the property of the late David Garrick, Esq. sold on the 5th of May, 1825, describes the cup as follows:--"Lot 170. The original cup carved from Shakspeare's mulberry-tree, which was presented to David Garrick by the Mayor and Corporation at the time of the Jubilee at Stratford-on-Avon, lined with silver gilt, with a cover, surmounted by a bunch of mulberry leaves and fruit, also of silver gilt."

This relic acquires additional value from the circumstance of its never having changed possessors from the time it was presented to Garrick in September, 1769, to 1825, a period of nearly three score years, and during the greater part of which time it has been virtually locked up from public view. The tree was cut down about the year 1756, and could not have been less than 140 years old. It is said the mulberry was first planted in England about 1609. It is not a little singular, that at the time Garrick received this relic of the immortal bard, he resided in Southampton-street, as appears by his letter to the Mayor and Corporation of Stratford, returning thanks for having elected him a burgess of Stratford-on-Avon; and the residence of its second possessor, Mr. J. Johnson, (who bought it for 127l. 1s.,) after a lapse of nearly sixty years, is in the same street.

The cup itself is of a very chaste and handsome form; plain, but in good taste, and the wood prettily marked. The mulberry cup has also been recorded in the celebrated ballad, beginning, "Behold this fair goblet," &c. sung by Garrick at the Jubilee, holding the cup in his hand.

G.W.

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MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF ALL NATIONS.

NO. X.

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THE GREEKS.

(_For the Mirror_.)

The delightful country of Greece, once the finest in the world, is inhabited by a bold and intelligent race of men, whose noble struggles to rescue themselves from an odious servitude has rendered them objects of our esteem and admiration. For more than five years has this unfortunate land been the scene of continual warfare and desolation; and though the attempts of the Turks have been many and great, they have notwithstanding entirely failed in their design,--that of exterminating the Greeks.

The Greeks are of the same religion as the Russians, and, like that nation, have monks and nuns. Great decorum is visible in their churches, the females being excluded from the sight of the males by means of lattices. Their bishops lead a life of great simplicity, as will be seen from the following account of a dinner given by the bishop of Salona to Mr. Dodwell:--"There was nothing to eat except rice and bad cheese; the wine was execrable, and so impregnated with resin, that it almost took the skin from our lips. Before sitting down to dinner, as well as afterwards, we had to perform the ceremony of the _cheironiptron_, or washing of the hands. We dined at a round table of copper tinned, supported upon one leg, and sat on cushions placed on the floor. The bishop insisted upon my Greek servant sitting at table with us; and on my observing that it was contrary to our custom, he answered, that he could not bear such ridiculous distinctions in his house. It was with difficulty I obtained the privilege of drinking out of my own glass, instead of out of the large goblet, which served for the whole party. The Greeks seldom drink till they have dined. After dinner, strong thick coffee, without sugar, was handed round."--The strictest frugality is observable in all the meals of these people. The higher orders live principally on fish and rice, and the common people on olives, honey, and onions. The food of the Levantine sailors, according to the Hon. Mr. Douglas, consists entirely of salted olives, called by the Greeks _columbades_. They dress mutton in a singular manner, it being stewed with honey. In a very rare work, published in 1686, entitled, "The Present State of the Morea," is the following account of their manner of thrashing corn:--"They have no barns, but thrashing-floors, which are situated on high grounds, and open to the winds. Here they tread it out with horses, which are made fast to a post, round which the corn is put; the horses trampling upon it make great despatch: they then cleanse it with the wind, and send it home."

The houses of the Greeks are generally built of brick, made of clay and chopped straw; those at Napoli di Romania are considered among the best, and are spacious and convenient. The stranger, on entering, is struck with the singular appearance they present, the lower story being set apart for the _horses_, while not a bell is visible in any part of the building. When the attendance of a servant is required, it is signified by the master clapping his hands. Most of the houses in the villages have very pretty gardens, with walks round them covered with vines. The Greeks are remarkable for their love of dancing, particularly the _Romaika_, which is thus described by the Hon. Mr. Douglas:--"I never shall forget the first time I saw this dance: I had landed on a fine Sunday evening in the island of Scio, after three months spent amidst Turkish despotism, and I found most of the poorer inhabitants of the town strolling upon the shore, and the rich absent at their farms; but in riding three miles along the coast, I saw above thirty parties engaged in dancing the Romaika upon the sand; in some of these groups, the girl who led them chased the retreating wave, and it was in vain that her followers hurried their steps; some of them were generally caught by the returning sea, and all would court the laugh rather than break the indissoluble chain. Near each party was seated a group of parents and elder friends, who rekindled the last spark of their expiring gaiety and vigour in the happiness they saw around them."

Though the Greeks are an oppressed nation, yet, as Sir William Gell testifies, they cannot be called uncleanly in their habits. The bath is in constant use among them, and a Greek peasant would on no account retire to rest without having previously washed his feet. The females, generally speaking, are kept very secluded from society, and it is seldom that their marriages are founded on mutual love or attachment. The conduct of the married women in Greece is deserving of our highest praise, both for their great virtue and goodness of heart, while instances of divorce are extremely rare.

The burial-places of the Greeks are situated without the walls of their towns, and round the tombs are a variety of plants, (principally parsley,) which they take great care to keep alive. Numerous ceremonies are observed at their funerals; but the most interesting scene is the last. "Before the body is covered with earth, the relations approach in turn, and lifting the corpse in their arms, indulge in the full pleasure of their grief, while they call in vain on the friend they have lost, or curse the fate by which that loss has been occasioned." The Greeks, when occasion requires it, make use of flowers to express their thoughts. Thus for instance, if a lover wishes to convey any private intelligence to his mistress, he has only to make a selection of certain flowers, the signification of which is perfectly understood if once seen by the object of his love. The manners of the Greeks in many cases bear a striking resemblance to those of the Turks. Like that nation, they smoke with long pipes, and write with the left hand. The inhabitants of Napoli di Romania have still further imitated their oppressors by wearing the turban trimmed with white, together with the red _papouches_, or slippers. The costume of the Greek soldiers is thus described by the author of "Letters from the East:"--"The costume of these soldiers was light and graceful; a thin vest, sash, and a loose pantaloon, which fell just below the knee. The head was covered with a small and ugly cap. They had most of them pistols and muskets, to which many added sabres or ataghans." The dress of the females is very elegant; over the head is worn a veil, called _macrama_, and between the eyelid and the pupil is inserted a black powder, named _surme_, which, according to the Hon. Mr. Douglas, gives a pleasing expression to the countenance. On their hair (generally of a beautiful auburn) they bestow great pains, adorning it with a variety of ornaments, and suffering it to hang down in long tresses or ringlets, which present a most graceful appearance. In stature the men are tall and well made; but their countenances, though expressive, have generally an air of dejection, which no change of time or circumstances have power to remove. The Greek women are very beautiful, and remarkable for vivacity and intelligence of mind.