Part 2

About six o'clock in the morning of the 11th, on asking how he did, my master answered he was much better, and requested me to shave him. He had not sufficient strength to lift his head from the pillow; and after finishing one side of the face, I was obliged to turn his head, in order to shave the other. As soon as it was done, he desired me to fetch him a looking-glass which hung on the other side of the hut. On seeing himself in it, he observed that he looked quite as ill at Bornou, on his former journey: and as he had borne his disorder so long a time, he might yet recover. On the following day he still fancied himself getting better. I began to flatter myself, also, that he was considerably improved. He eat a bit of hashed guinea-fowl in the day, which he had not done before since his illness, deriving his sole sustenance from a little fowl-soup and milk and water. On the morning of the 13th, however, being awake, I was much alarmed by a peculiar rattling noise, proceeding from my master's throat, and his breathing was loud and difficult; at the same instant he called out, "Richard!" in a low and hurried tone. I was immediately at his side, and was astonished at seeing him sitting upright in his bed, and staring wildly around. I held him in my arms, and placing his head gently on my left shoulder, gazed a moment on his pale and altered features; some indistinct expressions quivered on his lips; he strove, but ineffectually, to give them utterance, and expired without a struggle or a sigh. When I found my poor master so very ill, I called out with all my strength, "O God, my master is dying!" which brought Pascoe and Mudey into the apartment. Shortly after the breath had left his body, I desired Pasco to fetch some water, with which I washed the corpse. I then got Pascoe and Mudey to assist me in taking it outside of the hut, laid it on a clean mat, and wrapped it in a sheet and blanket. Leaving it in this state two hours, I put a large clean mat over the whole, and sent a messenger to Sultan Bello, to acquaint him of the mournful event, and ask his permission to bury the body after the manner of my own country, and also to know in what particular place his remains were to be interred. The messenger soon returned with the sultan's consent to the former part of my request; and about twelve o'clock at noon of the same day a person came into my hut, accompanied by four slaves, sent by Bello to dig the grave. I was desired to follow them with the corpse. Accordingly, I saddled my camel, and putting the body on its back, and throwing a union-jack over it, I bade them proceed. Travelling at a slow pace, we halted at Jungavie, a small village, built on a rising ground, about five miles to the south-east of Soccatoo. The body was then taken from the camel's back, and placed in a shed, whilst the slaves were digging the grave; which being quickly done, it was conveyed close to it. I then opened a prayer-book, and, amid showers of tears, read the funeral service over the remains of my valued master. Not a single person listened to this peculiarly distressing ceremony, the slaves being at some distance, quarrelling and making a most indecent noise the whole of the time it lasted. This being done, the union-jack was taken off, and the body was slowly lowered into the earth, and I wept bitterly as I gazed for the last time upon all that remained of my generous and intrepid master. The pit was speedily filled, and I returned to the village, about thirty yards to the east of the grave, and giving the most respectable inhabitants, both male and female, a few trifling presents, entreated them to let no one disturb its sacred contents, I also gave them 2,000 cowries to build a house, four feet high, over the spot, which they promised to do. I then returned, disconsolate and oppressed, to my solitary habitation, and leaning my head on my hand, could not help being deeply affected with my lonesome and dangerous situation; a hundred and fifteen days' journey from the sea-coast, surrounded by a selfish and cruel race of strangers, my only friend and protector mouldering in his grave, and myself suffering dreadfully from fever. I felt, indeed, as if I stood alone in the world, and earnestly wished I had been laid by the side of my dear master: all the trying evils I had endured never affected me half so much as the bitter reflections of that distressing period. After a sleepless night, I went alone to the grave, and found that nothing had been done, nor did there seem the least inclination on the part of the inhabitants of the village to perform their agreement. Knowing it would be useless to remonstrate with them, I hired two slaves at Soccatoo the next day, who went immediately to work, and the house over the grave was finished on the 15th.

One instance, out of many of the kindness and affection with which my departed master uniformly treated me, occurred at Jenna, on our journey into the interior. I was dangerously ill with fever in that place, when he generously gave up his own bed to me, and slept himself on my mat, watched over me with parental assiduity and tenderness, and ministered to all my wants. No one can express the joy he felt on my recovery; and who, possessing a spark of gratitude, could help returning it but by the most inviolable attachment and devoted zeal? It was his sympathy for me in all my sufferings that had so powerful a claim on my feelings and affections, and taught me to be grateful to him in hours of darkness and distress, when pecuniary recompense was entirely out of the question.

The great sufferings, both mental and bodily, I had undergone at the death and burial of my master, and the constant agitation in which I was kept, occasioned a rapid increase in my disorder; and on the 16th I could with difficulty crawl round my hut, and was obliged to lay myself on my mat, from which I had not strength to arise till the 27th; old Pascoe, during that period, being very kind and attentive to me.

In the course of this day (27th) the Gadado, Malem Moodie, and Sidi Sheik, came with a commission from the sultan to search my boxes, as he had been informed they were filled with gold and silver; but, to their great amazement, found I had not sufficient money to defray my expenses to the sea-coast. They, however, took an inventory of all my articles, and carried it to Bello. The gold watch intended for him, and the private watches of Captains Clapperton and Pearce, I had taken the precaution to conceal about my person. In a short time the Gadado and his companions returned with a message from the sultan, commanding me to deliver to them the following articles, viz. a rifle-gun, double-barrelled ditto, two bags of ball, a canister of powder, a bag of flints, a ream and a half of paper, and six gilt chains, for which he promised to give me whatever I might ask. I consequently charged him 245,000 cowries, which I was to receive from Hadji Hat Sallah, at Kano; and an order was given me to receive this sum, and, what more I might require in my journey over the Great Desert. A letter was also sent by me to Hadji Hat Sallah.

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SONG.

My Mary of the curling hair, The laughing teeth, and bashful air, Our bridal morn is dawning fair, With blushes in the skies. _Shule! Shule! Shule, agra! Shule asucur, agus shule, aroon!_[2] My love! my pearl! My own dear girl! My mountain maid arise!

Wake, linnet of the osier grove! Wake, trembling, stainless, virgin dove! Wake, nestling of a parent's love! Let Moran see thine eyes. _Shule, Shule, &c._

I am no stranger, proud and gay, To win thee from thy home away, And find thee, for a distant day, A theme for wasting signs. _Shule, Shule, &c._

But we were known from infancy, Thy father's hearth was home to me, No selfish love was mine for thee, Unholy and unwise. _Shule, Shule, &c._

And yet, (to see what love can do!) Though calm my hope has burned, and true, My cheek is pale and worn for you, And sunken are mine eyes! _Shule, Shule, &c._

But soon my love shall be my bride And happy by our own fire-side, My veins shall feel the rosy tide, That lingering Hope denies. _Shule, Shule, &c._

My Mary of the curling hair, The laughing teeth and bashful air, Our bridal morn is dawning fair, With blushes in the skies. _Shule! Shule! Shule, agra! Shule, asucur, agus shule, aroon!_ My love! my pearl! My own dear girl! My mountain maid, arise!--_The Collegians_

[2] Come! come! Come, my darling-- Come, softly,--and come, my love!

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SPIRIT OF DISCOVERY.

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_Pyrothonide._

A French physician has lately introduced into the _Materia Medica_, a substance produced by the combustion of linen, hemp, or cotton cloth, in the open air. He considers it useful in various inflammatory affections, especially in opthalmia, or diseases of the eye, and chilblains. To prepare pyrothonide, take a handful of cloth, old or new, place it in a shallow basin, set fire to it, moving it about, so that the basin do not become too hot; after the combustion is finished, throw out the ashes; at the bottom of the vessel will be found a semi-aqueous, semi-oleaginous product, of a reddish brown colour, and possessing a pungent odour. Pour upon this 5 oz. of cold water, which will dissolve it entirely, forming the solution of pyrothonide, which is used in a more or less diluted state, as may be requisite, for collyria, fomentations, &c--_Medical Journal_.

_French Carpet._

At the exhibition in the Louvre for 1827, was a carpet which occupied two years in making, and contains 3 or 4,000 ostrich feathers.

_French Pigs._

Whoever has travelled from Calais to Paris must have noticed the lank, greyhound-like forms of the French pigs; but it is not perhaps generally known that the Chinese and English breeds are getting into use for crossing. The fact that there are four millions of pigs yearly killed in France, shows of how great importance they are to agriculturists.

_Indian Plaster._

All the fine plaster with which the walls of the houses are covered in India, and which is so much admired by strangers, is composed of a mixture of fine lime and soapstone, rubbed down with water: when the plaster is nearly dry, it is rubbed over with a dry piece of soapstone, which gives it a polish very much resembling that of well-polished marble.

_Method of preserving Currants fresh till January or February._

When the fruit is ripe, choose those bushes enjoying a southern aspect, and which are most convenient in their shape, and most loaded with fruit, and surround them with thick straw mats, so that they shall be completely sheltered from atmospheric cold and other changes. By this simple method it will be found that the fruit may be preserved quite fresh till after Christmas.

H.B.A.

_Chromate of Iron._

Is used in painting, dyeing, and calico-printing; and its value is so great, the proprietor of a serpentine tract in Shetland, where chromate of iron was found by Professor Jameson, cleared, in a few years, 8,000l.--_Dr. Murray_.

_Temperature of Springs._

In those situations where the cold is not sufficient to hinder the circulation of water, the temperature of perennial springs is almost identical with the atmosphere. Thus, in the vicinity of Edinburgh, the temperature of the perennial springs agrees with the mean temperature of the atmosphere. The same is the case in the whole of Atlantic Europe, and also to a great extent in Southern Europe. The temperature of springs in northern regions, when the surface water is frozen, is higher than the mean temperature of the superincumbent atmosphere; and in the countries from the south of Europe to the Tropic, the temperature of springs is lower than that of the medium temperature of the atmosphere.

_Humboldt's Journey to Siberia._

Humboldt, although now past his 60th year, will leave Germany in the spring, accompanied by Professor G. Rose, for Siberia. He will probably extend his researches to the high land which separates India from the Russian empire.

_Egyptian Manuscript relative to the History of Sesostris._

At the sitting of the Aix Academy, on the 3rd of August, M. Sallier read a report of some very important discoveries in Egyptian history, made at his house, and amongst his Egyptian papyri, by M. Champollion, jeune. The latter gentleman was on his way to Egypt with M. Rosellini, and stopped two days with M. Sallier previous to proceeding to Toulon for the purpose of embarking. During this short period he examined ten or twelve Egyptian papyri, which had been purchased some years ago, with other antiquities, from an Egyptian sailor. They were principally prayers or rituals which had been deposited with mummies; but there was also the contract of the sale of a house in the reign of one of the Ptolemies; and finally three rolls united together and written over with fine demotic characters, reserved, as is well known, for civil purposes.

The first of these rolls was of considerable size, and to M. Champollion's astonishment contained a _History of the Campaigns of Sesostris Rhamses_, called also _Sethos_, or _Sethosis_, and _Sesoosis_, giving accounts the most circumstantial of his conquests, the countries which he traversed, his forces, and details of his army. The manuscript is finished with a declaration of the historian, who, after stating his names and titles, says he wrote in the ninth year of the reign of Sesostris Rhamses, king of kings, a lion in combats, &c.

M. Champollion has promised, that, on his return from Egypt, he will fix the manuscript on cloth for its future preservation, and give a complete translation. The period of the history is close to the time of Moses; and apparently the great Sesostris was the son of the king who pursued the Israelites to the borders of the Red Sea; so that a most important period in ancient history will be elucidated.

On the same MS. commences another composition, called _Praises of the great King Amemnengon_. There are only a few leaves of it, and they form the beginning of the history contained in the second roll. This Amemnengon is supposed to have reigned before Sesostris, because the author wrote in the ninth year of the reign of the latter. M. Champollion had not time to enter into a particular examination of these rolls.

The third roll relates to astronomy or astrology, or more likely to both these subjects. It has not been far opened; but will probably prove of the utmost interest, if, as it is expected, it contains any account of the system of the heavens as known to or acknowledged by the Egyptians and Chaldeans, the authors of astronomical science.

A small basaltic figure was purchased with the MSS., and it is supposed found with them. On the shoulders of the figure is written in hieroglyphic characters the name, with the addition of _clerk and friend of Sesostris_. It did not occur to ascertain, until M. Champollion was gone, whether the name on the figure was the same with any of those mentioned in the rolls as belonging to the historian, or to others.--_From the French_.

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SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS.

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THE VICAR.

A SECOND EVERY-DAY CHARACTER.

Some years ago, ere time and taste Had turn'd our parish topsy-turvy, When Darnel Park was Darnel Waste, And roads as little known as scurvy, The man who lost his way between St. Mary's Hill and Sandy Thicket, Was always shown across the Green, And guided to the parson's wicket.

Back flew the bolt of lissom lath; Fair Margaret, in her tidy kirtle, Led the lorn traveller up the path, Through clean clipt rows of box and myrtle. And Don and Sancho, Tramp and Tray, Upon the parlour steps collected, Wagg'd all their tails, and seem'd to say, "Our master knows you; you're expected."

Uprose the Reverend Dr. Brown, Uprose the doctor's "winsome marrow;" The lady laid her knitting down, Her husband clasp'd his pond'rous Barrow: What'er the stranger's cast or creed, Pundit or Papist, saint or sinner, He found a stable for his steed, And welcome for himself, and dinner.

If, when he reach'd his journey's end, And warm'd himself in court or college, He had not gain'd an honest friend, And twenty curious scraps of knowledge;-- If he departed as he came, With no new light on love or liquor,-- Good sooth, the traveller was to blame, And not the vicarage, nor the vicar.

His talk was like a stream which runs With rapid change from rocks to roses: It slipp'd from politics to puns; It pass'd from Mahomet to Moses: Beginning with the laws which keep The planets in their radiant courses, And ending with some precept deep For dressing eels, or shoeing horses.

He was a shrewd and sound divine, Of loud dissent the mortal terror; And when, by dint of page and line, He 'stablish'd truth, or startled error, The Baptist found him far too deep, The Deist sigh'd with saving sorrow; And the lean Levite went to sleep, And dream'd of tasting pork to-morrow.

His sermon never said or show'd That earth is foul, that heaven is gracious, Without refreshment on the road From Jerome, or from Athanasius: And sure a righteous zeal inspired The hand and head that penn'd and plann'd them; For all who understood admired, And some who did not understand them.

He wrote too, in a quiet way, Small treatises, and smaller verses; And sage remarks on chalk and clay. And hints to noble lords and nurses: True histories of last year's ghost, Lines to a ringlet, or a turban; And trifles for the Morning Post, And nothings for Sylvanus Urban.

He did not think all mischief fair, Although he had a knack of joking; He did not make himself a bear, Although he had a taste for smoking: And when religious sects ran mad, He held, in spite of all his learning, That if a man's belief is bad, It will not be improved by burning.

And he was kind, and loved to sit In the low hut or garnish'd cottage, And praise the farmer's homely wit, And share the widow's homelier pottage: At his approach complaint grew mild; And when his hand unbarr'd the shutter, The clammy lips of fever smiled The welcome, which they could not utter.

He always had a tale for me Of Julius Caesar, or of Venus; From him I learn'd the rule of three, Cat's cradle, leap-frog, and Quae genus: I used to singe his powder'd wig, To steal the staff he put such trust in; And make the puppy dance a jig, When he began to quote Augustin.

Alack the change! in vain I look For haunts in which my boyhood trifled; The level lawn, the trickling brook, The trees I climb'd, the beds I rifled: The church is larger than before; You reach it by a carriage entry; It holds three hundred people more, And pews are fitted up for gentry.

Sit in the Vicar's seat: you'll hear The doctrine of a gentle Johnian, Whose hand is white, whose tone is clear, Whose phrase is very Ciceronian. Where is the old man laid?--look down. And construe on the slab before you, _Hic jacet_ GULIELMUS BROWN, _Vir nulla non donandus lauru_.

_New Monthly Magazine._

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TAILORS.

There is nothing upon earth that is of so much utility to men in general as fine clothes. A splendid equipage, a magnificent house, may draw the gaze of idle passers, and excite an occasional inquiry. But who, that has entered taverns and coffeehouses, has not perceived that the ratio of civility and attention from the waiter is regulated by the dress of his various customers? Any stranger, elegantly and fashionably attired, will find little difficulty in obtaining deference, politeness, and even credit, in every shop he enters; whereas the stranger, in more homely, or less modish garb, is really nobody. In truth, the gentleman is distinguished in the crowd only by the cut of his trousers, and he carries his patent of nobility in his coat-lap. And to whom does he owe this index of his identity, but to his despised and much calumniated tailor?

There is not a metamorphosis in all the pages of Ovid so wonderful as that which the great magician of the shears and thimble is capable of effecting. If there be the most unpleasant disproportions in the turn of your limbs--any awkwardness or deformity in your figure, the enchantment of this mighty wizard instantly communicates symmetry and elegance. The incongruous and unseemly furrows of your shape become smooth and harmonized; and the total want of all shape is immediately supplied by the beautiful undulations of the coat, and the graceful fall of the pantaloons. And all this is by the potency of your tailor. His necromantic skill, unlike that of too many practisers of supernatural arts, is exercised only for the benefit of the world: and whilst Circe transformed the companions of Ulysses into brute beasts, the benevolent enchanter of our day transforms brute beasts into handsome and attractive men. Nay, had Olympus been furnished with a tailor, Brotheus would have had no necessity to burn himself to death for the purpose of escaping ridicule from the gods on account of his deformity.

But he who is most indebted to this manufacturer of elegant forms, is the lover; and the base ingratitude of this sort of person is dreadfully enormous. After he has riveted the gaze of his mistress upon his charming figure, drawn forth sighs of admiration for his remarkable elegance, excited the most tender perturbations by the grace of his movements, and finally acquired a complete surrender of her heart by the striking interest of his attitude when kneeling at her feet, he ignorantly and presumptuously ascribes this to his own intrinsic qualities, without ever remembering that the abilities of his tailor are the sole source of all his success. The very being, who has endowed such a man with all his attractions, rests contented with the payment of his bills, (if he be fortunate enough to obtain that;) whilst the other, by the power of fascinations so procured, obtains a lovely wife and twenty thousand pounds. _Sic vos non vobis_, &c.

Such is the skill of that wonderful being, the tailor, that his transformations are not more extraordinary than sudden. The time which is occupied in thus new-moulding the human frame is really trivial compared with the stupendous change which is literally wrought. It is true, the soul may remain the same, but a new body is actually given to it by the interposition of vestiary talent: and this is what we have always believed to be the genuine meaning of the metempsychosis of Pythagoras.

It is not, therefore, without the most cogent reasons that we assert our opinion, that the distich of Pope, "Worth makes the man," or the title appended by Colley Cibber to one of his dramas, "Love makes the man," ought henceforth to yield, in point of truth, to the irrefragable principle which we here solemnly advance, "that it is the tailor makes the man."--_Blackwood's Magazine_.

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THE ACTOR.