Chapter 3

No man at all acquainted with the principles of fertility and the present state of British tillage, can for a moment doubt that a very large quantity of waste land is scattered over the different districts of this country, which is not only susceptible of improvement, but which would yield an ample return for any amount of labour which could, for centuries to come, be spared from the cultivation of our own land. To be fully convinced of this fact, no man need do more than ride twenty miles in any direction from the metropolis. Let him select whatever road he may choose for his excursion, and he will find tracts of land, forming in the aggregate a very considerable quantity, which at this moment remain in the hands of nature--which man has never made the slightest effort to reclaim. Even the hebdomadal excursions of the citizen will conduct him over or near many such scenes. What Gilpin, living within the sound of Bow-bells, does not know Epping and Hainault Forests, Hounslow, Putney, and Black Heaths, Brook Green, Turnham Green, Wandsworth, Esher, Sydenham, Hays, and various other Commons? Within a circle of twenty miles around the largest and most opulent city in the world, we thus discover a large quantity of land, which cultivation would render highly productive, but which, in its present state of waste, is of little or no value to the public. And this land, situated in the very outskirts of the metropolis, continues to be utterly neglected, if not entirely overlooked, at a moment when the whole kingdom resounds with the groans of those who argue that the population of this country has outrun the means of subsisting them. As the traveller advances in his journey from the metropolis, the waste becomes more extensive, if not more numerous. The English wastes, which amount to about five millions of acres, are more valuable than those of Ireland; and these again are more improvable than, the Scotish wastes.--_Quarterly Rev._

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CHINESE NOVELS.

The character of the Chinese novels is the same with that of the better parts of _Don Quixote, Gil Blas, Tom Jones_, and _Cecilia_. Their authors address themselves to the reason rather than the imagination of their readers. The other Asiatic nations, led away by a passion for the marvellous, have often disfigured the most respectable traditions, and converted history itself into romance. The Chinese, on the other hand, may be said to have given their romances the truth of history.--_N. American Review._

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The Canadian Indian females are described as passionately fond of their children, as submissive slaves, and at the same time affectionately attached to their husbands. This they evince by _self-immolation_, after the manner of eastern wives. Among the few poisonous plants of Canada, is a shrub, which yields a wholesome fruit, but contains in its roots a deadly juice, which the widow, who wishes not to survive her husband, drinks. An eye-witness describes its effects; the woman having resolved to die, chanted her death song and funeral service; she then drank off the poisonous juice, was seized with shivering and convulsions, and expired in a few minutes on the body of her husband.

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SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS.

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TWENTY-EIGHT AND TWENTY-NINE.

"Rien n'est changé, mes amis!"[2] CHARLES DIX.

[2] I have taken these words for my motto, because they _enable_ me to tell a story. When the present King of France received his first address on the return from the emigration, his answer was, "Rien n'est changé, mes amis; il n'y a qu'un Français de plus." When the Giraffe arrived in the Jardin des Plantes, the Parisians had a caricature, in which the ass, and the hog, and the monkey were presenting an address to the stranger, while the elephant and the lion stalked angrily away. Of course, the portraits were recognisable--and the animal was responding graciously, "Rien n'est changé, mes amis: il n'y a qu'un bête de plus!"

I heard a sick man's dying sigh, And an infant's idle laughter; The old Year went with mourning by, The new came dancing after; Let Sorrow shed her lonely tear, Let Revelry hold her ladle; Bring boughs of cypress for the biel. Fling roses on the cradle; Mates to wait on the funeral state! Pages to pour the wine! And a requiem for Twenty-eight,-- And a health to Twenty-nine.

Alas! for human happiness, Alas! for human sorrow; Our Yesterday is nothingness, What else will be our Morrow? Still Beauty must be stealing hearts, And Knavery stealing purses; Still Cooks must live by making tarts, And Wits by making verses; While Sages prate and Courts debate, The same Stars set and shine; And the World, as it roll'd through Twenty-eight, Must roll through Twenty-nine.

Some King will come, in Heaven's good time, To the tomb his Father came to; Some Thief will wade through blood and crime To a crown he has no claim to; Some Suffering Land will rend in twain The manacles that bound her, And gather the links of the broken chain To fasten them proudly round her; The grand and great will love, and hate, And combat, and combine; And much where we were in Twenty-eight, We shall be in Twenty-nine.

O'Connell will toil to raise the Rent, And Kenyon to sink the Nation; And Sheil will abuse the Parliament, And Peel the Association; And the thought of bayonets and swords Will make ex-Chancellors merry-- And jokes will be cut in the House of Lords, And throats in the County Kerry; And writers of weight will speculate On the Cabinet's design-- And just what it did in Twenty-eight, It will do in Twenty-nine.

Mathews will be extremely gay, And Hook extremely dirty; And brick and mortar still will say "Try Warren, No. 30;" And "General Sauce" will have its puff, And so will General Jackson-- And peasants will drink up heavy stuff, Which they pay a heavy tax on; And long and late, at many a fête, Gooseberry champagne will shine-- And as old as it was in Twenty-eight, It will be in Twenty-nine.

And the Goddess of Love will keep her smiles; And the God of Cups his orgies; And there'll be riots in St. Giles, And weddings in St. George's; And Mendicants will sup like Kings, And Lords will swear like Lacqueys-- And black eyes oft will lead to rings, And rings will lead to black eyes; And pretty Kate will scold her mate. In a dialect all divine-- Alas! they married in Twenty-eight,-- They will part in Twenty-nine!

John Thomas Mugg, on a lonely hill, Will do a deed of mystery-- The Morning Chronicle will fill Five columns with the history; The Jury will be all surprise, The Prisoner quite collected-- And Justice Park will wipe his eyes, And be very much affected; And folks will relate poor Corder's fate, As they hurry home to dine, Comparing the hangings of Twenty-eight With the hangings of Twenty-nine.

A Curate will go from the house of prayer To wrong his worthy neighbour, By dint of quoting the texts of Blair, And singing the songs of Weber; Sir Harry will leave the Craven hounds, To trace the guilty parties-- And ask of the Court five thousand pounds, To prove how rack'd his heart is: An Advocate will execrate The spoiler of Hymen's shrine-- And the speech that did for Twenty-eight Will do for Twenty-nine.

My Uncle will swathe his gouty limbs, And tell of his oils and blubbers; My Aunt, Miss Dobbs, will play longer hymns, And rather longer rubbers; My Cousin in Parliament will prove How utterly ruin'd trade is-- My Brother at Eton will fall in love With half a hundred ladies; My Patron will sate his pride from plate. And his thirst from Bordeaux vine-- His nose was red in Twenty-eight,-- 'Twill be redder in Twenty-nine!

And oh! I shall find, how, day by day. All thoughts and things look older-- How the laugh of Pleasure grows less gay, And the heart of Friendship colder; But still I shall be what I have been, Sworn foe to Lady Reason, And seldom troubled with the spleen, And fond of talking treason; I shall buckle my skait, and leap my gate, And throw, and write, my line-- And the woman I worshipped in Twenty-eight, I shall worship in Twenty-nine!

_New Monthly Magazine._

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MORAL EFFECT OF ROME UPON THE TRAVELLER.

Those only who have lived in Rome can duly estimate the potent and lasting impression produced upon the mind of a thinking man, by a residence in this capital of the ancient world. The daily contemplation of so many classical and noble objects elevates and purifies the soul, and has a powerful tendency to allay the inconsiderate fervours and impetuosities of youth, to mature, and consolidate the character. I am already so altered, and, I have the vanity to think, so improved a man since my arrival here, that there are times when I almost doubt my own identity, and imagine that, by some preternatural agency, I have been born over again, and have had new blood and new vitality infused into my frame.

The gratifications of a residence in Rome are inexhaustible. At every turn I discover some new evidence of the power and magnificence of her ancient inhabitants, and vivid sensations of delight and awe rapidly succeed each other. This venerable metropolis is the tomb and monument, not of princes, but of nations; it illustrates the progressive stages of human society, and all other cities appear modern and unfinished in comparison.

Exploring this forenoon the vicinity of Monte Palatino, I discovered in an obscure corner, near the temple of Romulus, the time-hallowed spring of Juturna, rising with crystal clearness near the Cloaca maxima, into which it flows unvalued and forgotten. I refreshed myself in the mid-day heat by drinking its pure lymph from the hollow of my hand, and gazed with long and insatiable delight upon the memorable fountain. This sacred spot is surrounded and obscured by contiguous buildings, and the walls are luxuriantly fringed and mantled with mosses, lichens, and broad leaved ivy. The proud aqueducts of the expanding city diminish the value and importance of this spring, but it was unquestionably the ruling motive which determined Romulus, or possibly an earlier colony of Greeks, to take root here, as within the wide compass of the Roman walls there is no other source of pure water.--_Blackwood's Magazine._

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SONG, BY T. CAMPBELL

When Love came first to Earth, the SPRING Spread rose-buds to receive him. And back he vow'd his flight he'd wing To Heaven, if she should leave him.

But SPRING departing, saw his faith Pledg'd to the next new comer-- He revell'd in the warmer breath And richer bowers of SUMMER.

Then sportive AUTUMN claim'd by rights An Archer for her lover, And even in WINTER'S dark, cold nights A charm he could discover.

Her routs and balls, and fireside joy, For this time were his reasons-- In short, Young Love's a gallant boy, That likes all times and seasons.

_New Monthly Magazine._

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SCHOOL AND COLLEGE.

College! how different from school! Never believe a great, broad-faced, beetle-browed Spoon, when he tells you, with a sigh that would upset a schooner, that the happiest days of a man's life are those he spends at school. Does he forget the small bed-room occupied by eighteen boys, the pump you had to run to on Sunday mornings, when decency and the usher commanded you to wash? Is he oblivious of the blue chalk and water they flooded your bowels with at breakfast, and called it milk? Has he lost the remembrance of the Yorkshire pudding, vulgarly called choke-dog, of which you were obliged to eat a pound before you were allowed a slice of beef, and of which, if you swallowed half that quantity, you thought cooks and oxen mere works of supererogation, and totally useless on the face of the earth? Has the fool lost all recollection of the prayers in yon cold, wet, clay-floored cellar, proudly denominated the chapel? has he forgot the cuffs from the senior boys, the pinches from the second master? and, _in fine_, has he forgot the press at the end of the school-room, where a cart-load of birch was deposited at the beginning of every half year, and not a twig left to tickle a mouse with, long before the end of it? He talks of freedom from care--what a negative kind of happiness! Let him cut off his hand, he will never hurt his nails. Let him enclose an order for all his money even unto us, and no more will he be troubled with cares about the Stocks--no more will he be teased with calculations on the price of grain. All that raving about school-boys is perfect nonsense--it is the most miserable period of a human being's life. Poor, shivering, trembling, kicked, buffetted, thumped, and starved little mortals! We never see a large school but we feel inclined to shoot them all, masters, ushers, and door-keepers included, merely to put them out of pain.

But at College, how different!--_There_, a man begins to feel that it is a matter of total indifference to him whether he sit on a hard wooden bench, or a soft stuffed chair; _there_, the short coat is discarded, and he stalks about with the air of a three-tailed bashaw, as his own two, generally, at first, are prolonged a little below the knee; _there_, his penny tart, which he bought on Saturdays at the door of the school, is exchanged for a dessert from Golding's; his beer, which he occasionally imbibed at the little pot-house, two miles beyond the school bounds, is exchanged for his wine from Butler's.--Books from Talboy's, the most enterprising of bibliopoles, supply the place of the tattered Dictionary he brought to the University, which, after being stolen when new, and passing, by the same process, through twenty hands, is at last, when fluttering in its last leaves, restolen by the original proprietor, who fancies he has made a very profitable "nibble." The trot he used to enjoy by stealth on the butcher's broken-kneed pony, is succeeded now by a gallop on a steed of Quartermain's; and he is delighted to find that horse and owner strive which shall be the softest-mouthed and gentlest charger. The dandy mare, we suppose, has many long years ago made fat the great-grandfathers of the present race of dogs; and old Scroggins, we imagine, has been trod to pieces in boots and shoes, the very memory of which departed long, long before they were paid for. Of old Scroggins--as Dr. Johnson says--and of his virtues, let us indulge ourself in the recollection. Though not formed in the finest mould, or endowed with the extremity of swiftness, his pace was sure and steady--equal to Hannibal in endurance of fatigue; and, like that celebrated commander, his aspect was rendered peculiarly fierce and striking by a blemish in his eye; not ignorant of the way to Woodstock was the wall-eyed veteran; not unacquainted with the covers at Ditchley; not unaccustomed to the walls at Hethrop: but Dandy and Scroggins have padded the hoof from this terrestrial and unstable world--peace to their manes!--_Blackwood's Magazine._

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SPIRIT OF DISCOVERY.

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_Friction of Screws and Screw-presses._

An examination of the friction in screws having their threads of various forms, has led M. Poncelet to this very important conclusion, namely, that the friction in screws with square threads is to that of equal screws with triangular threads, as 2.90 to 4.78, proving a very important advantage of the former over the latter, relative to the loss of power incurred in both by friction.--_Brande's Journal._

_Fulminating Powder._

According to M. Landgerbe, a mixture of two parts nitre, two parts neutral carbonate of potash, one part of sulphur, and six parts of common salt, all finely pulverized, makes a very powerful fulminating powder. M. Landgerbe adopts the extraordinary error of supposing that these preparations act with more force downwards than in any other direction.--_Bull. Univ._

_Aurora Borealis._

An aurora borealis was seen from North End, Hampstead, near London, from about seven o'clock until eleven, on the evening of Dec. 1. It generally appeared as a light resembling twilight, but shifting about both to the east and the west of north, and occasionally forming streams which continued for several minutes, and extended from 30 to 40 degrees high. The light on the horizon was not more than 12 or 15 degrees in height.--_Brande's Journal._

_Paper Linen._

According to the Paris papers, a new invention, called _papier linge_, has lately attracted much attention. It consists of a paper made closely to resemble damask and other linen, not only to the eye, but even to the touch. The articles are used for every purpose to which linen is applicable, except those requiring much strength and durability. The price is low, a napkin costs only five or six centimes (about a halfpenny), and when dirty, they are taken back at half-price. A good sized table-cloth sells for a franc, and a roll of paper with one or two colours for papering rooms or for bed curtains, may be had for the same price.

_Maturation of Wine._

M. de St. Vincent, of Havre, states, from his own experience of long continuance, that when bottles containing wine are closed by tying a piece of parchment or bladder over their mouths, instead of using corks in the ordinary manner, the wine acquires, in a few weeks only, those qualities which is only given by age in the ordinary way after many years.--_Nouveau Jour, de Paris._

_Indications of Wholesomeness in Mushrooms._

Whenever a fungus is pleasant in flavour and odour, it may be considered wholesome; if, on the contrary, it have an offensive smell, a bitter, astringent, or styptic taste, or even if it leave an unpleasant flavour in the mouth, it should not be considered fit for food. The colour, figure, and texture of these vegetables do not afford any characters on which we can safely rely; yet it may be remarked, that in colour, the pure yellow, gold colour, bluish pale, dark or lustre brown, wine red, or the violet, belong to many that are esculent; whilst the pale or sulphur yellow, bright or blood red, and the greenish, belong to few but the poisonous. The safe kinds have most frequently a compact, brittle texture; the flesh is white; they grow more readily in open places, such as dry pastures and waste lands, than in places humid or shaded by wood. In general, those should be suspected which grow in caverns and subterranean passages, on animal matter undergoing putrefaction, as well as those whose flesh is soft or watery.--_Brande's Journal._

_Zoological Society._

Dr. Brookes, in his address to the recent anniversary meeting of the Zoological Society, stated that the _Museum_ already contains 600 species of mammalia, 4,000 birds, 1,000 reptiles and fishes, 1,000 testacea and Crustacea, and 30,000 insects. During the last seven months, the _Gardens_ and Museum have been visited by upwards of 30,000 persons. The vivarium contains upwards of 430 living quadrupeds and birds. The expenses of the past year have been 10,000 l., partly contributed by the admission of the public, and still more largely by the members of the Society, who already exceed 1,200 in number. These are gratifying facts to every lover of natural history, as they serve to indicate the progress of _zoology_ in this country--a study which it has ever been our aim to identify with the pages of the MIRROR.

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RETROSPECTIVE GLEANINGS.

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ENGLISH ROADS.

The roads of England are the marvel of the world. The improvements which have been effected during a century would be almost miraculous, did we not consider that they had been produced by the spirit and intelligence of the people, and were in no degree dependant upon the apathy or caprice of the ruling power. The first turnpike-road was established by an act of the 3rd Charles II. The mob pulled down the gates; and the new principle was supported at the point of the bayonet. But long after that period travelling was difficult and dangerous. In December, 1703, Charles III. king of Spain, slept at Petworth on his way from Portsmouth to Windsor, and Prince George of Denmark went to meet him there by desire of the queen. In the relation of the journey given by one of the prince's attendants, he states, "We set out at six in the morning, by torchlight, to go to Petworth, and did not get out of the coaches (save only when we were overturned or stuck fast in the mire) till we arrived at our journey's end. 'Twas a hard service for the prince to sit fourteen hours in the coach that day without eating any thing, and passing through the worst ways I ever saw in my life. We were thrown but once indeed in going, but our coach, which was the leading one, and his highnesses body coach, would have suffered very much, if the nimble boors of Sussex had not frequently poised it, or it with their shoulders, from Godalming almost to Petworth; and the nearer we approached the duke's house, the more inaccessible it seemed to be. The last nine miles of the way cost us six hours' time to conquer them; and, indeed, we had never done it, if our good master had not several times lent us a pair of horses out of his own coach, whereby we were enabled to trace out the way for him." Afterwards, writing of his departure on the following day from Petworth to Guildford, and thence to Windsor, he says, "I saw him (the prince) no more, till I found him at supper at Windsor; for there we were overturned, (as we had been once before the same morning,) and broke our coach; my Lord Delaware had the same fate, and so had several others."--Vide Annals of Queen Anne, vol. ii. Appendix, No. 3.

In the time of Charles, (surnamed the Proud,) Duke of Somerset, who died in 1748, the roads in Sussex were in so bad a state, that, in order to arrive at Guildford from Petworth, travellers were obliged to make from the nearest point of the great road leading from Portsmouth to London. This was a work of so much difficulty, as to occupy the whole day; and the duke had a house at Guildford which was regularly used as a resting-place for the night by any of his family travelling to London. A manuscript letter from a servant of the duke, dated from London, and addressed to another at Petworth, acquaints the latter that his grace intended to go from London thither on a certain day, and directs that "the keepers and persons who knew the holes and the sloughs must come to meet his grace with lanterns and long poles to help him on his way."

The late Marquess of Buckingham built an inn at Missenden, about forty miles from London, as the state of the roads compelled him to sleep there on the way to Stow--a journey which is at present performed between breakfast and dinner.

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THE GATHERER.

A snapper up of unconsidered trifles.

SHAKSPEARE.

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