The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 13, No. 372, May 30, 1829

Part 2

Chapter 23,763 wordsPublic domain

Those who wasted their patrimony, forfeited their right of being buried in the sepulchres of their fathers. As soon as any person had expired, they closed his eyes. Augustus Caesar, upon the approach of his death, called for a looking-glass, and caused his hair to be combed, and his fallen cheeks decently composed. All the offices about the dead were performed by their nearest relations; nor could a greater misfortune befal any person than to want these respects. When dying, their friends and relations came close to the bed where they lay, to bid them farewell, and catch their dying words, which they never repeated without reverence. The want of opportunity to pay this compliment to Hector, furnishes Andromache with matter of lamentation, which is related in the Iliad. They kissed and embraced the dying person, so taking their last farewell; and endeavoured likewise to receive in their mouth his last breath, as fancying his soul to expire with it, and enter into their bodies. When any person died in debt at Athens, the laws of that city gave leave to creditors to seize the dead body, and deprive it of burial till payment was made; whence the corpse of Miltiades, who died in prison, being like to want the honour of burial, his son Cimon had no other means to release it, but by taking upon himself his father's debts and fetters. Sometime before interment, a piece of money was put into the corpse's mouth, which was thought to be Charon's fare for wafting the departed soul over the infernal river.

P.T.W.

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SINGULAR MANORIAL CUSTOM.

(_For the Mirror_.)

The Manor of Broughton Lindsay, in Lincolnshire, is held under that of Caistor, by this strange service: viz. that annually, upon Palm Sunday, the deputy of the Lord of the Manor of Broughton, attends the church at Caistor, with a new cart whip in his hand, which he cracks thrice in the church porch; and passes with it on his shoulder up the nave into the chancel, and seats himself in the pew of the lord of the manor, where he remains until the officiating minister is about to read the second lesson; he then proceeds with his whip, to the lash of which he has in the meantime affixed a purse, which ought to contain thirty silver pennies (instead of which a single half crown is substituted,) and kneeling down before the reading desk, he holds the purse, suspended over the minister's head, all the time he is reading the lesson. After this he returns to his seat. When divine service is over, he leaves the whip and purse at the manor house.

H.B.A.

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The Contemporary Traveller.

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MEXICO, OR NEW SPAIN.

The name of New Spain was at first given only to Yucatan by Grijalva and his followers; but Cortez extended it to the whole empire of Montezuma, which is described by the earliest writers to have reached from Panama to New California. This, however, appears, from more recent researches, on the accuracy of which Humboldt relies with reason, to have been larger than the reality justified; and the whole of Tenochtitlan may be said to have been contained in the present states of Vera Cruz, Oaxaca, Puebla, Mexico, and Valadolid. In addition to the name given by Cortez, that of the capital was extended to the whole kingdom of New Spain; and since the revolution and the establishment of independence, the several provinces form separate and independent states, confederating together and constituting the nineteen United States of Mexico; viz. Chiapa, Chihuahua, Cohahuila and Texas, Durango, Guanaxuato, Mexico, Michoachan, New Leon, Oaxaca, Puebla, Queretaro, San Luis Potosi, Sonora and Cinaloa, Tabasco, Tamaulipas, Vera Cruz, Xalisco, Yucatan and Zacatecas. Old and New California, Colima, New Mexico, and Tlascala, though forming members of the federation, declined having state governments, on account of the expense, and are designated territories. The whole republic, according to Humboldt, occupies a space of 75,830 square leagues, of twenty to an equinoxial degree; on which there are to be found every inequality of surface, and every variety of soil and climate, the two last of which are dependent in most cases on the former.

The republic of Mexico, taken on the grand scale, may be considered as a succession of small mountain-plains at different heights, separated by mountains, and increasing in magnitude as the coast recedes on both the eastern and western sides, until the great centre plain be reached, which, though much broken by mountain ridges, tends to the north, maintaining nearly an equal elevation. The snow-capped mountains of Orizava, and the volcanos of Puebla and Toluca, are among the most splendid objects in the world. The Mexicans divide the regions of their country into _Tierras calientes, Tierras templadas_, and _Tierras frias_, according to the climate. Throughout the whole country there is a lamentable want of water, and of navigable rivers. The lakes, too, appear to be yearly decreasing in extent, the immediate consequence of which is, that the elevated portions of the interior are nearly stripped of vegetation, and the soil covered with an efflorescence of carbonate of soda, there called _Tequisquita_, resembling very closely the plains of the two Castiles, and recalling to the Eastern traveller the desolate wastes of some parts of Persia.

The effect of elevation on the temperature is most marked, and it is no uncommon thing to be shivering on one side of the street in the city of Mexico, and to be literally scorched by the rays of the sun on the other. Changes are upon record of 55° of Fahrenheit within three hours, on one of the mountain-plains at the same height with the valley of Mexico.

Notwithstanding the volcanic character of Mexico, earthquakes are by no means so frequent there as in some of the neighbouring countries. One of the most memorable on record occurred on the 14th of September, 1759, when the volcano of Jorullo, with several smaller cones, forced the surface of the soil, destroying all before it.

The infinite variety of climate and soil fits this country for the production of the fruits of all regions, from those of the hottest within the tropics to those of the severest cold, where cultivation can be carried on. But the want of ports, and of navigable rivers on the Atlantic, opposes the advantages that might result from this variety of production, though on the Pacific there are a few admirable ports, such as Acapulco. The prevalence of the "Nortes," or northerly winds, at certain seasons, seriously affects the navigation on one side, while that of the "papagallos" is as inconvenient on the other.

The Mexican population is commonly divided into seven classes:--1. European Spaniards, commonly called "_gachupines_." 2. White Creoles. 3. Mestizos, descendants of Whites and Indians. 4. Mulattoes, descendants of Whites and Blacks. 5. Zambos, from Indians and Negroes. 6. Pure Indians. 7. African Blacks. But this classification may be reduced to four:--1. Whites. 2. Indians. 3. Blacks. 4. Mixed Races, the various gradations of which may be considered almost infinite.

The Indians consist of a considerable number of distinct tribes, differing in many points of appearance, and speaking--not dialects but--languages entirely different. No less than twenty of these have been traced, and of fourteen of them there are already grammars and dictionaries. The Indian population is chiefly centered in the great plains, and towards the south; and Humboldt thinks that it has flowed from the north to the south. The history of four great migrations is preserved in the annals of Mexico, which are worthy of more detailed examination than we can bestow upon them. The great body of these people live apart from the other races of their countrymen, in small villages, full of ignorance, suspicion, and bigotry, and displaying an apparent phlegm, from which it would seem impossible to arouse them. This phlegmatic temperament lessens the credit of the men with the females, who uniformly prefer the European, or the still more vivacious negro. "The indigenous Mexican is grave, melancholic, silent, so long as he is not under the influence of intoxicating liquors. This gravity is peculiarly remarkable in Indian children, who at the age of four or five years display more intelligence and precocity than the children of whites. The Mexican loves to attach mystery even to his most trifling actions; the strongest passions do not display themselves in his countenance; the transition is frightful when it passes suddenly from a state of absolute repose to that of violent and unrestrained agitation." Slavery with them has engendered guile. They are obstinate in all their habits and opinions; their religion is one of mere ceremonial, justifying the observation of a priest to Mr. Ward, "son mui buenos Catolicos, pero mui malos Cristianos" (very good Catholics, but very bad Christians.) Deception in this, as well as in every thing else, is the order of the day; and the Indian Alcalde now oppresses the villagers as much as he himself has ever been.

Humboldt considers the Mexican Indian as destitute of all imagination, though when to a certain degree educated, he attributes to him facility in learning, a clearness of understanding, a natural turn for reasoning, and a particular aptitude to subtilize and seize trifling distinctions.

The music and dancing are as dull as might be expected among beings so full of phlegm. The Mexican has a turn for painting and sculpture; and retains the same fondness for flowers that struck Cortez so forcibly upwards of three centuries ago. The "Indios Bravos," or Wild Indians, are said to display more energy; but our information respecting them is remarkably scanty.

Among the active vices of the Mexican Indian, that of drunkenness prevails to a most lamentable extent. In the upper districts, _pulque_, or the fermented juice of the aloe, is the principal tempter; sometimes a spirit, distilled from the same plant, called _Vino de Mescal_; while, in the hotter districts, the same effects are ensured by the _chinguirito_, a very coarse kind of rum. Combined with this disposition to intoxication, the Indian is constitutionally indolent; and, now that he is a free man, he will rarely work, except to obtain just as much as will afford him the means of enjoying his greatest luxury--that of steeping his senses in oblivion. This last tendency is much to be deplored, as, in the larger towns, we know that every Sunday (which is the day of greatest indulgence) assassinations, to the extent of six or eight each day, are the melancholy consequence of its indulgence. Humboldt states that the police were in the practice of sending tumbrels round, to collect the unhappy victims of intoxication. The punishment was, and we believe still is, three days' labour in the streets; but it does not seem to be very efficacious, for generally within the week the delinquents are again in custody.

There is something characteristic in the indolence of these sombre beings. They will travel immense distances; but to steady labour they are, generally speaking, not prone. It is told of them, that in one of the most fertile districts (the _Baxio_) it is not unusual for an Indian, on receiving his wages, to get thoroughly drunk, go to sleep, and on awakening renew his potations and repose, until the exhaustion of his finances compels him to return to labour. In some parts, however, there are exceptions to this observation.

Education has been more attended to, by some of the leading personages, than could have been expected in a society that had been so much kept in the shade. We apprehend the advantages are chiefly prospective, and may be well defined in another generation; at present they are but small. The whites have been, and still are, the most educated portion of the Mexicans, owing, no doubt, to their greater opulence, and having access to official rank. The mass of ignorance, however, among all classes, is inconceivable to any one who has only moved in the principal countries of Europe. Nor is it confined to the lower classes, but finds protection among the highest in the community. We heard a reverend canon of the metropolitan church gravely inquire, whether it was possible to reach London except by sailing up the Thames. And we knew a very pretty, agreeable young lady, moving in the first circles, who could not write a single letter at the age of seventeen. She has been since married, and has, we are informed, been taught to write by her husband, who is not a Mexican. The religion of all classes resembles too much that of the Indians; and the practical morality and general tone of society are by no means refined. If one half of the scandalous tales in circulation be true, the former ranks with that of Paris in its worst periods, and the latter is assuredly gross to a degree that would surprise even an inhabitant of Madrid. The familiarity with which _every subject_ is treated at first excites emotions in an Englishman of the most unpleasant kind, which gradually subside, from the frequency with which they are discussed by young and old; by high and low, of both sexes.--_Foreign Quarterly Review_.

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Notes of a Reader.

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SIR WALTER SCOTT'S NEW WORK.

We detach this little descriptive gem from Sir Walter Scott's "Anne of Geierstein," just published. An outline of this very delightful novel will be found in a SUPPLEMENT with the present number of the MIRROR.

"The ancient tower of Geierstein, though neither extensive, nor distinguished by architectural ornament, possessed an air of terrible dignity by its position on the very verge of the opposite bank of the torrent, which, just at the angle of the rock on which the ruins are situated, falls sheer over a cascade of nearly a hundred feet in height, and then rushes down the defile, through a trough of living rock, which perhaps its waves have been deepening since time itself had a commencement. Facing, and at the same time looking down upon this eternal roar of waters, stood the old tower, built so close to the verge of the precipice, that the buttresses with which the architect had strengthened the foundation, seemed a part of the solid rock itself, and a continuation of its perpendicular ascent. As usual, throughout Europe in the feudal times, the principal part of the building was a massive square pile, the decayed summit of which was rendered picturesque, by flanking turrets of different sizes and heights, some round, some angular, some ruinous, some tolerably entire, varying the outline of the building as seen against the stormy sky."

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THORWALDSEN.

Since the death of his illustrious contemporary, Canova, Thorwaldsen, born at Copenhagen in 1771-2, has occupied the public eye as head of the modern school. The character and powers of this master are doubtless of a very elevated rank: but neither in the extent nor excellence of his works, do we apprehend his station to be so high as sometimes placed. The genius of the Danish sculptor is forcible, yet is its energy derived more from peculiarity than from real excellence. His ideal springs less from imitation of the antique, or of nature, than from the workings of his own individual mind--it is the creation of a fancy seeking forcible effect in singular combinations, rather than in general principles; therefore hardly fitted to excite lasting or beneficial influence upon the age. Simplicity and imposing expression seem to have hitherto formed the principal objects of his pursuit; but the distinction between the simple and rude, the powerful and the exaggerated, is not always observed in the labours of the Dane. His simplicity is sometimes without grace; the impressive--austere, and without due refinement. The air and contours of his heads, except, as in the Mercury--an excellent example both of the beauties and defects of the artist's style--when immediately derived from antiquity, though grand and vigorous, seldom harmonize in the principles of these efforts with the majestic regularity of general nature. The forms, again, are not unfrequently poor, without a vigorous rendering of the parts, and destitute at times of their just roundness. These defects may in some measure have arisen from the early and more frequent practice of the artist in relievos. In this department, Thorwaldsen is unexceptionably to be admired. The Triumph of Alexander, originally intended for the frieze of the government palace at Milan, notwithstanding an occasional poverty, in the materials of thought, is, as a whole, one of the grandest compositions in the world; while the delicacy of execution, and poetic feeling, in the two exquisite pieces of Night and Aurora, leave scarcely a wish here ungratified. But in statues, Thorwaldsen excels only where the forms and sentiment admit of uncontrolled imagination, or in which no immediate recourse can be had to fixed standards of taste, and to the simple effects of nature. Hence, of all his works, as admitting of unconfined expression, and grand peculiarity of composition, the statues of the Apostles, considered in themselves, are the most excellent. Thorwaldsen, in fine, possesses singular, but in some respects erratic genius. His ideas of composition are irregular; his powers of fancy surpass those of execution; his conceptions seem to lose a portion of their value and freshness in the act of realizement. As an individual artist, he will command deservedly a high rank among the names that shall go down to posterity. As a sculptor, who will influence, or has extended the principles of the art, his pretensions are not great; or, should this influence and these claims not be thus limited, the standard of genuine and universal excellence must be depreciated in a like degree.--_Meme's History of Sculpture, &c._

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SIGN OF THE TIMES.

One of the singularities of the time is an unwillingness to tell the truth, even when there is no ground for suppressing or perverting it. It is so frequently under or overstated by most persons in this country who speak and write, according to the side they have espoused, or the inclinations and political principles of those by whom they are likely to be read or heard, that they at last persuade themselves there is a sort of impropriety in presenting facts in their proper colours.--_Quarterly Review_.

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A DUTCH TALE.

A ballad of _Roosje_ is perhaps the most touchingly told story which the Dutch possess. It is of a maid--a beloved maid--born at her mother's death--bred up 'midst the tears and kisses of her father--prattling thoughtlessly about her mother--every one's admiration for beauty, cleverness, and virtue--gentle as the moon shining on the downs. Her name was to be seen written again and again on the sands by the Zeeland youths--and scarcely a beautiful flower bloomed but was gathered for her. Now in Zeeland, when the south-winds of summer come, there comes too a delicate fish, which hides itself in the sand, and which is dug out as a luxury by the young people. It is the time of sport and gaiety--and they venture far--far over the flat coast into the sea. The boys drag the girls among the waves--and Roosje was so dragged, notwithstanding many appeals. "A kiss, a kiss, or you go further," cried her conductor--she fled--he followed, both laughing:--"Into the sea--into the sea," said all her companions--he pushes her on--it is deeper, and deeper--she shrieks--she sinks--they sink together--the sands were faithless--there was no succour--the waves rolled over them--there was stillness and death:--The terrified playmates looked--

"All silently,--they look'd again-- And silently sped home-- And every heart was bursting then, But every tongue was dumb.

"And still and stately o'er the wave, The mournful moon arose, Flinging pale beams upon the grave, Where they in peace repose.

"The wind glanc'd o'er the voiceless sea, The billows kissed the strand-- And one sad dirge of misery Fill'd all the mourning land."

_Foreign Quarterly Review_.

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ENGLAND AND HER COLONIES.

The discouragement of colonization is certainly not the feeling of the great majority of the people of England, and it is equally certain that it is not the policy of this empire. Whatever may be the fate of the several British colonies at some future and distant period, it is something at least to have spread our laws and language, and moral character, over the most distant parts of the globe. The colonies that speak the language of Old England--that preserve her manners and her habits--will always be her best customers; and their surplus capital will always centre in the mother country. It was not the opinion of our ancestors, that colonies were an incumbrance; they--good, stupid souls--imagined that colonies enlarged the sphere of commerce---that commerce required ships--that ships created seamen for manning the royal navy, and that the whole contributed to individual wealth, to the national revenue, and the national strength; and such we believe still to be the opinion of men of sound practical knowledge, whose minds are unwarped by abstract systems and preconceived theories, to which every thing must be made to bend. Such, too, was the feeling of that extraordinary man, who, with the solitary exception of England, exacted homage from every crowned head of Europe. This man, in the plenitude of his power, felt that something was still wanting to enable him to grapple with one little island, invulnerable by its maritime strength, the sinews of which he knew to be derived from its colonies: he felt that, deprived as he was of "ships, colonies, and commerce," England was able to stand alone among nations, and to bid defiance to his overwhelming power. That cunning fox, too, by whose councils he was occasionally guided, knew too well the degree of strength that England derived from her colonies, which he described to be her very vitals, and which could only be reached by a powerful navy. He designated them as the sheet anchor of Great Britain--the prop that supported her maritime superiority--the strongholds of her power. "Deprive her of her colonies," said Talleyrand. "and you break down her last wall; you fill up her last ditch."--_Fas est et ab hoste doceri.--Quarterly Review_.

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INVITATIONS.

As a certificate of your intention to be punctual, you may send your friends, a similar billet to the following:--

My dear Sir,

The honour of your company is requested to dine with ---- on _Fry_day, 1828.

The favour of a positive answer is requested, or the proffered plate will be appropriated as it was when--

_Sir Ill-bred Ignorance_ returned the following answer:--"I shall be quite happy to come if I possibly can." Such words the committee voted were equivalent to these--I'll come, if in the mean time I am not invited to a party that I like better.--_Dr. Kitchiner_.

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GENEVA