114 Such are the blessings of friendship, that mankind, animated by it, would be willing to forego their other darling pleasures, if discarding them would conduce to the happiness of a friend; the coward would assume strength in his defence, and the miser (if such a wretched being can possibly entertain so noble a passion) would quit the satisfaction of gazing upon his hoarded wealth, and forfeit them for the advantage of his friend. THE MANCHESTER IRIS. wish to obtain that perfect state of happiness the lake, pleased with the gentle rippling of B. I. T. THE SOLDIER'S FUNERAL. A SKETCH, The sounds of woe, the sounds of death Old Song. IT was a fine autumnal afternoon in the year 1764. I was then in all the vigour of youth, and unoppressed with the cares of life; I had experienced many of its pleasures, but as yet knew not any of its solicitudes; a partaker of its joys, but a stranger to the sorrows which all must feel. I was at this time on a visit at the residence of a relative, in a romantic situation, commanding a delightful prospect of, perhaps, the most picturesque scenery in England. In the front was a noble expanse of waters, encircled on every side by fertile fields, some covered with the yellow corn, which ever and anon was waved in the gentlest motion by the cooling breeze-some, already shorn of their rich produce, displayed an agreeable contrast in their whiteness, while in others were seen the careless rustics cheerfully pursuing their annual labour, in all that innocent, inirth which accompanies the anticipation and enjoyment of the harvest-home. Behind was a romantic wood; not indeed arrayed in all its summer foliage, but just beginning to yield to the soft touch of time, which bids the bud and blossom to appear, and which destroys them both. It was to me, however, far more agreeable in its partial decay, than it could have been in its richest splendour; for there is no season of the year so congenial to my feelings, as that in which the leaves fall off, and the flowers fade; that which produces the witching twilight, when the sun has set, but left behind him the golden tinge of his departing rays, which commingles with the shades of evening, forming an intermediate state, more lovely than either the broad light of day, or the thick darkness of night. I had been wandering amidst such scenery as this with a young friend, much about my own age. At one time we threaded the mazy windings of the wood, plucking such wild fruit as still remained, and presented itself to our view. Then we wandered along the banks of former possessor. But the most affecting sight was still to come. Next to the body appeared the gallant courser which had carried the young warrior over many a bloody plain, which had shared his glory and his dangers, and which to a soldier is almost as dear as life itself. Slung across the saddle were suspended the hero's boots. The poor animal forgetting his natural fiery ardour, instead of proudly pawing the ground as he was wont to do, appeared conscious that his master was now no more. He walked slowly along, drooping his head, and displaying, more forcibly than words can express, the sorrow which he felt. Noble animal, exclaimed, thou hast indeed lost thy lord ;---no more shalt thou experience his kind attention,--no more shalt thou bear him to the battle-plain,--no more enjoy with him the glories of victory, or the comforts of peace; thou wilt shortly be doomed to another master, who perhaps will be as cruel, as thy former was humane. The officers of the regiment closed the military part of the procession, which was followed by a large concourse of the gentry and the peasantry of the place. They soon arrived at the village church, a fine old gothic building. A row of stately elms was planted around the burial ground, which contained the remains of some of almost every person in the parish. Here then, whilst beholding the obsequies of the stranger, they were reminded of the death of those most dear to them. The service was performed by the worthy rector amidst the most prevailing silence, and many a rustic face was bedewed with tears, The corpse was committed to the grave, and the minister closed the It was the funeral of Captain Edward Hau- service, when the last token of military service trey, a young officer, who had but just reached and respect was performed, the whole body his 22nd year. He had, nevertheless, been a firing three vollies over the house of death. considerable time in the army, and had but a The procession then moved slowly off, in the same order as before, we following them with few months ago returned from foreign climes, where, in the service of his country, he had the eye as they marched along, their arms regained applause and renown, but when dead,flecting the beams of the setting sun, and instead of being crowned with his well-earned their plumes waving in the wind, till they laurels, was to be shaded with the cypress and were out of sight. the willow. Handsome and accomplished, beloved by his faithful soldiers, he was on the eve of being united to the idol of his heart, when he was suddenly cut off in the prime of life, just as he was about to realize his fondest hopes, and enjoy those pleasures which he had so anxiously anticipated. As the neighbouring church was the spot, where slept the ashes of his ancestors, his remains had been conveyed from the place where the regiment was quartered, as the last office which surviving friends can perform for the dead. Every former thought was now banished from our minds, and reflecting upon the spectacle we had witnessed, we pursued our way Of course this was homewards in silence. the chief topic of conversation there, and many circumstances of Captain Hautrey's life were related. This I learnt was the day which had been fixed for his nuptials, and the amiable object of his love, so affected with grief at his death, had never recovered her accustomed spirits. She was indeed more than commonly distressed, and a settled gloom First marched the troop, which had been seemed to have taken possession of her heart. under his orders, with their arms reversed--I was much struck with the recital of the nor was there one countenance of these hardy Captain's story, and retired from the family sons of war unaffected with grief--sorrow was circle to enjoy alone the luxury of grief. The pourtrayed upon each manly face, as they for country was now still; each had returned to the last time beheld the coffin which contained his respective habitation, there, no doubt, to the earthly relics of their kind commander. talk like us over the circumstance which had Immediately following them was the full band, taken place. The moon had arisen, and threw playing as they went a solemn requiem to the a soft and melancholy light upon the unruffled dead. Next was the body of the deceased, lake, all nature was clothed in silent beauty, borne by six of his sorrowing men; on the and scarcely a breath of wind rustled amid the pall were deposited his helmet, sword, and leaves. I was ever a lover of such scenes as spurs, the sight of which inspired a train of these; and never did I find one more suited to mournful ideas,--the weapon which had been the nature of my soul than the present. I wan drawn against the enemies of his country, and dered out, unaccompanied, and unperceived, sheathed in many a foeman's heart, had now and soon arrived at the banks of the lake.-finished its work of death, and was consigned to its scabbard never more to be used by its The night was calm, not a zephyr blew, And a balmy fragrance breathed around Nor was I mistaken. I heard, indeed, the voice of some unknown fair one, now tuned to a wild cadency, and now sinking so as to be inaudible. Wondering what this could be, I advanced slowly towards the spot from whence I imagined the voice to proceed.Judge of my surprise, at discovering a beautiful female figure reclining against the bank of the lake, evidently pierced to the heart with some secret grief. She was of the middle stature, her features were of the most en gaging loveliness. Her dark black eye shot such wild and melancholy glances, as would have arrested the attention of the most indif ferent. Her hair was flowing over her neck Why shineth so clear the bright moon-beam Or why hath the air such a magic power? But no-be is gone-such scenes cannot please, See, see, from my arms how they cruelly tear him, Yes, yes, it is so, for my Edward is gone, If my Edward had lived, this cloudless night Here the poor maiden looked wildly around, and again sunk into a settled pensiveness of soul. At length she slowly retired, and left me to reflect upon her melancholy fortunes. I bent my steps toward the hospitable roof of my relation, my mind soothed with the soft scenery which every where surrounded me, and filled with the most solemn and agreeable meditation. I did not mention the affecting circumstance I had witnessed, to any of the family, and soon after bad them farewell.--But though since that time nearly three-score years have passed over my head, now silvered o'er with age, during which I have felt the vicissitudes of fortune, the cares and anxieties of life, its sorrows, and its griefs, yet never was erased from my memory the recollection of "THE SOLDIER'S FUNERAL." T. C. Benè vixit, qui benè latuit. EPITAPH. Here Browne ye quondam Beggar lies; Some six score winters, and above: Such vertue is in ale. Ale was his meat, his drink, his cloaths, And could he still have drank his ale, Bernardine monks boasted yt ye sun shined Bradford said we must go to ye grammer school of repentance, before we go to the Univer- Balaam had benefit by a good angel though Beatitudo hominis est Deus.. Bona opera via regni, non causa regnandi. Bernardus non vidit omnia. Bonifas pope, when Phocas Emperor. The Benedictio duplex, charitativa, authoritativa. Bells in England say, Funera plango; fulmina A bishop being told by one, yt he hoped to Brine of tribulation may keep you sweet, when Hence, 1-20.r = what C does in 1 hour, + 15-300x And I per question. This reduced gives x, the part A does in 1 hour, consequently he would finish the whole in 30 bours. And (1-3) 12 gives, the part B does in 1 hour, he would therefore finish it in 20 hours. Also (1–3) ÷ 20 gives, the part C does in 1 hour, hence he would finish it in 60 hours. Solutions to the saine question were received from Arithmeticus, J. H. and Messrs. W. M. Laurie; T. Bainbridge, jún., Robert Andrew, and W. Wilson the solution of J. J. jun. was erroneous. Question No. 14, by Mr. W. Williams, jun. Required in the line which joins two luminous bodies, the point where the quantity of light is the least possible. Question No. 15, by Mercurius. In a sphere of 24 inches diameter, how deep must a round hole be made, of 6 inches diameter, to contain one gallon wine measure? Question No. 16, by Mr. Johnson. There is a vessel whose length and breadth in one sum are 25 feet, and its depth thrice its length; required its dimensions when the capacity is the greatest possible. Correspondents, that no question can be inserted unless We must again beg to remind our Mathematical it be accompanied by a solution from the author. REPOSITORY OF GENIUS. Answer to Charade, No. 15, by S. R. My first is the male to a cow, POETRY. TO MY DAUGHTER, On the Morning of her Birth-Day. (BY LORD BYRON.*) Hail, to this teeming stage of strife 'Tis nature's worship-felt-confessed In trackless woods, and boundless plains, Dear babe! ere yet upon thy years But little reck'st thou, oh my child! So darkly wrought, that spreads between Little reck'st thou, my earliest born! Of clouds that gather round thy morn, Of snares that intersect thy way, But thou wilt burst this transient sleep, Thy tears must flow, as mine have flowed- Unconscious babe! though on that brow And prematurely pave the way For sorrows of a riper day. Then thou, my babe, should'st slumber still, A parent's love thy peace should free, Sleep on, my child, the slumber brief · Soon wilt thou reck of cares unknown, Yet be thy lot, my babe, more blest- Lamb of the world's extended fold! IMPROMPTU. FASHIONS FOR MAY. MORNING DRESS. A round dress, composed of batiste; the bottom of the skirt is embroidered in a running pattern of pensées in yellow silk, surmounted by a wreath of the same flower disposed in a wave. High body, to fasten behind, and with a little fulness at the bottom of the back the bust is plain, and is cut moderately high on the shoulder; the waist the usual length. Long sleeve, very tight, and finished by a pointed cuff; the points turn upwards, and are edged with yellow satin. Full epaulette, cut in slashes, which are filled with satin, to correspond with the trimming. A very full ruff, composed of Urling's lace, completely envelopes the throat. The head-dress is a demi cornette, made of blond monti, and trimmed with yellow ganze ribbon the form is remarkably simple and elegant. Black kid shoes, and gloves to correspond with the. trimming of the dress. : FULL DRESS. Round dress, composed of tulle, over a white satin slip the bottom of the skirt is finished by a garniture of tulle intermixed with pearls; this is surmounted by a trimming: composed of tulle, chenille, and pearls, disposed in alternate wreaths of corn-flowers and roses: this trimming has a striking and elegant effect. The corsage is cut low, and in such a manner as to give considerable width to the chest: it is tight to the shape. Three falls of tourterelle points go entirely round the bust. Sleeve composed of tulle over white satin; it is short and full, and ornamented with points to correspond. The front hair is dressed in light full ringlets, which fall very low at the sides of the face. The hind hair is arranged in bows somewhat higher than it has lately been worn. Head dress, a very full plume of white ostrich feathers, and a pearl sprig. Necklace and ear rings, pearl. White kid gloves, and white gros de Naples shoes. FRENCH EVENING DRESS. Dress of gossamer pink satin under fine net; the net covered with chains formed of rouleaux of pink On a musical Box and China Jar, which fell together satin, the border trimmed with puckerings of pink from a table and were broken. As both are lost,' quath E****d W**tt, The matter can't disturb your quiet, Since, though the Harmony it mar, You see it does not leave a Jar.' I'M YOUR MAN. EXTEMPORE LINES IN ITALIAN, On the first appearance of Mr. Salter in the much admired Tragedy of Virginius, as a Roman father. Virginio! Virginio! qual mai furore! Virginia! or che d'un infelice amore SALTER del tuo agire trasportato! We hope for a translation in English, by some of our readers. crape with points of pink satin, turned up over the puckering, these points are edged with blond: the corsage finished with slashes in the Spanish fashion · sleeves short and full to correspond. The hair arranged in large curls and bows, and ornamented with pink and silver lama gauze. Isis serpent in front, formed of pearls. Ear-rings and necklace of large oriental pearls. White satin shoes, white kid gloves, and carved cedar fan. Turquoise stones, pearls, and very small brilliants, set together, form a favourite article in jewellery for rings; gold ear-rings in the form of a cone, or of a chrysalis, are among the novelties of the day, as are pendants of topaz and rubies set transparent, in the light Italian manner. The favourite colours are celestial blue, pink, lavender, and cream-colour. LITERARY NOTICES. Lord Byron has, we hear, sent a new tragedy over it is founded on a German story, which has already taken its place in English literature, though not in a dramatic form. Report says that his Lordship has not on this occasion departed from his wonted course. A Monthly Magazine in the French language is about to be started in London, under the title of Le Musée des Variétés Littéraires. The Grave of the last Saxon, or legend of the Curfew; a Poem. By the Rev. W. L. Bowles. Mr. D. Turner, of Yarmouth, is preparing for press 1000 Autographs of most distinguished characters, with a brief memoir of each, and with portraits in some instances. Sketches of the Life and Character of Patrick Henry. By Wm. Wirt, of Richmond; Virginia. Reprinted from the American Edition. THE MUSAEID. No. VII.-THURSDAY, MAY 9, 1822. Non amo te.-MARTIAL. Give me to drain the cocoa's milky bowl, THOMSON. was preparing a set for the quadrille, and shall be happy to accompany you in Les Lanciers,' or Les Graces, Mademoiselle.' Her fairy steps were lighter than her angel voice was sweet. Volatile was entranced, enraptured, en— ¿ but his ecstacies may at the deep full richness of her voice. Tea was far • For We drink chocolate.-Coffee is a liquor that we relish not.---Tea is a beverage only fit for old maids, washing-women, and cockneys, the genera of humanity which we utterly eschew, loathe, and abominate Why then do we write on a subject so detestable? We answer-we have good reasons:-if any one ask which be they?' We have only to repeat- we have reasons, that we could and would give if we chose, but not upon compulsion.-We are led perhaps to complain more grievously upon this subject than we ought, because we have always an alternative of one of the two last-mentioned fluids forced down our throats when we answer the numerous cards of invitation which rest upon our chimney-piece.-It is mighty curious indeed to observe how Volatile avoids bringing his lips in contact with these obnoxious potions-how he seems to sip, and contrives to spill into the saucer-anon rises to relieve some lady from her finished cup- then mingling with the chat which prevails on such occasions, delays it to the last minute the servant comes.- now do take another cup Mr. Volatile'—says the lady of the house -Volatile is inflexible, the untouched cup is carried away, and his spirits revive-like the drooping bud after the April shower-and he seems more pleased by the departure of the cups rattling upon the tray--impertinences and then-' here Miss Gilhulme's than the devotees of gunpowder are by the hissing of the entering tea-urn.-Nevertheless there is a something exceedingly inspiring in the mute eloquence of a jingling tea-cup, something which causes the heart even to respond to the insipid prattle which such weak draughts promote ; but these delights have been carried to too great an extent-and tea parties in general are now become meetings, where scandal and defamation are the principal objects of conversation, and, where the demerits and defects of a neighbour are entered upon with the most rigid and censorious asperity. Volatile where are you going in such a confounded burry,' said Panacey, as the former was hastily passing him, I can't stop,' said Volatile, peevishly, Zounds you must, for I've a hundred things to tell you, and yet I won't detain you if you really are so anxious to be gone,' said the Doctor, observing Volatile's impatience; but in the name of petulance whither are you going,' To the, no, no,' said he laughing, 'I'm going to Mr. Ravenhair's, I will see you at ten, I shan't be later.' What, ha, how many quadrilles did you dance at Mr. Give's ball with one partner, eh, but;' Oh you must excuse me now,' said Volatile, and off he went. Now Mrs. Ravenhair and her sister, are in our opinion, very handsome, and very pleasant, and very entertaining, and we do not know whether we love more their good qualities, or admire their beauty; we have also been enchanted by their exquisite singing, and we have no hesitation in asserting that Miss Fairbrow is much the best singer, in a private room, that we have ever had the pleasure of hearing, indeed we have been absolutely astonished scandal became so loud that Volatile ventured to When Miss Fairbrow had finished Miss Gilhulme best be painted by the following delirious effusion of his muse. daughter and image of May, 0 The joy and the harmony wak'd by your tread; Earth ne'er had before, and will ne'er see again. Around like an halo, that waits on your call, The wide circling glory that marks it divine. A form at whose glance, at one sight of whose motion, TO CORRESPONDENTS. What can we say to our correspondents for our long neglect of them? Nothing. What must our correspondents say to us? Nothing, if they please. We know we have behaved very uncivilly, but it will not become them to abuse us. We have indeed had some of the fairest hands disfigured with the hurry of indignation, first, at our unmannerly replica. tions and now at our contemptuous taciturnity; but had they known the gracefuluess of silence, they would not have committed themselves in petulance and wrath. Young ladies who are unaccustomed to communications with editors, will no doubt take it grievously amiss that they do not meet the same implicit attention which they usually receive, and to which perhaps their merits may justly entitle them; yet if they could know how it afflicts us to wound them, they would not blame us for delaying the painful sentence of condemnation, or the damning with faint praise,' which we are too often compelled to be stow on their productions. Clarinda would not have written to 'demand some notice of her verses from Mr. Volatile,' nor have expressed herself amazed, at his want of gentlemanly propriety,' had she been aware that it was his bigh sense of 'gentlemanly propriety,' which forbade him to tell a lady that her verses were very silly verses: nor would Fannia have thought that the editors might long since have found space for her sonnet in some number of the Musaeid,' could she only have imagined that it was her measure, and her numbers which were in fault. But briefly, dear Correspondents, Juliet, Aminta, Kate, Jane, and Olivia, your ratings are lost upon us; we wont even tell you what we think of your Communications, but not one of them shall be published. F: is wrong. We were not ashamed of meeting her in the Square the other day, but we saw her point us out to her friend and we hate to be attacked about the Musaeid. Delia wants to know how she must spend her time? Profitably. Mrs. Matadore's account of Miss Spadille's tea party will be inserted, but we cannot promise when. We heard the secret of the wedding long before Matilda sent it to us: we know the day too, which, we dare say, she does not, and the Millineries, which are ordered, from Mrs. Bean, that's the name we believe. THE EDITORS of the MUSAEID at the IRIS OFFICE. WEEKLY DIARY. MAY. REMARKABLE DAYS. SUNDAY, 12.--Rogation Sunday. This day takes its name from the Latin term rogare to ask; because, on the three subsequent days, supplications were appointed by Mamertus, Bishop of Vienna, in the 469, to be year offered up with fasting to God, to avert some particular calamities that threatened his dio cese. THURSDAY 16.—Ascension Day. From the earliest times, this day was set apart to commemorate our Saviour's ascension into heaven: all processions on this, and the preceding rogation days, were abolished at the Reformation. In London, on this day, the minister, accompanied by the churchwardens, and a number of boys, with wands, walk in procession, and beat the bounds of the parish. But this is not always practised, nor in every year. Mr. Evelyn's description of the manner in which Ascension Week was passed in Venice, in his time, (1645) is extremely curious, as affording a faithful picture of the then flourishing state of this once emporium of commerce, and a vivid delineation of the strange and fantastic costume of the Venetian ladies of that period. It was now Ascension Weeke, and the great mart or faire of ye whole yeare was kept, every body being at liberty and jollie. The noblemen stalking with their ladys on choppines; these are high-heel'd shoes, particularly affected by these proude dames, or, as some say, invented to keepe them at home, it being very difficult to walke with them; whence one being asked how he liked the Ve netian dames, replied, that they were mezzo carne, mezzo ligno, half flesh, half wood, and he would have none of them. The truth is, their garb is very odd, as seeming alwayes in masquerade; their other habits also totally different from all nations. They weare very long crisped haire, of several strakes and colours, which they make so by a wash, dischevelling it on the brims of a broade hat that has no head, but an hole to put out their heads by; they drie them in the sunn, as one may see them at their windows. In their tire they set silk flowers and sparkling stones, their peticoates coming from their very arme-pits, so that they are neere three quarters and half apron ; their sleeves are made exceeding wide, under which their shift sleeves as wide, and commonly tucked up to the shoulder, shewing their naked armes, thro' false sleeves of tiffany, girt with a bracelet or two, with knots of points richly tagged about their shoulders and other places of their body, which they usually cover with a kind of yellow vaile of lawn very transparent. Thus attir'd they set their hands on the heads of two matron-like servants, or old women, to support them, who are mumbling their beades. "Tis ridiculous to see how these ladys crawle in and out of their gondolas by reason of their choppines, and what dwarfs they appear when taken down from their wooden scaffolds; of these I saw near thirty together, stalking halfe as high again as the rest of the world, for courtezans or the citizens may not weare choppines, but cover their bodies and faces with a vaile of a certaine glittering taffeta or lustreè, out of which they now and then dart a glaunce of their eye, the whole face being otherwise entirely hid with it; nor may the common misses take this habit, but go abroad barefac'd. To the corners of these virgin-vailes hang broad but flat tossels of curious Point de Venize; the married women go in black vailes. The nobility weare the same colour, but of fine cloth lin❜d wth taffeta in summer, with fur from squirrels in ye winter, which all put on at a certaine day girt with a girdle emboss'd with silver; the vest not much different from what our Bachelors of Arts weare in Oxford, and a hood of cloth made like a sack, cast over their left shoulder, and a round cloth black cap fringed with wool, which is not so comely; they also weare their collar open to shew the diamond button of the stock of their shirt. I have never seene pearle for colour and bignesse comparable to what the ladys weare, most of the noble families being very rich in jewells, especially pearles, which are always left to the son or brother who is destined to marry, which the eldest seldome do. The Doge's vest is of crimson velvet, the Procurator's, &c. of damasc, very stately. Nor was I lesse surprised with the strange variety of ye severall nations which were seen every day in the streetes and piazzas; Jews, Turks, Armenians, Persians, Moores, Greekes, Selavonians, some their targets and boueklers, and all in their native fashions, negotiating in this famous emporium which is always crowded with strangers.'-(Evelyn's Memoirs. Some beautiful reflections on the fallen state TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE, FORTY YEARS AGO. arrived in the very nick of time; my two It was a lovely morning; a remittance had horses were in excellent condition; and I resolved, with a College chum, to put in execution a long concerted scheme of driving to London, Tandem. We sent our horses forward, got others at Cambridge, and tossing algebra and Anacharsis "to the dogs," started in high spirits.-We ran up to London in style, went ball-pitch to the play-and after a quiet breakfast at the St. James's, set out with my west end of the town. We were turning down own horses upon a dashing drive through the the Haymarket, when whom, to my utter horror and consternation, should I see crossing to meet us, but my old warmhearted, but severe and peppery, uncle, Sir Thomas-? and two carriages behind, made us stationary ; To escape was impossible.-A cart before, and I mentally resigned all idea of ever succeeding to his five thousand per annum. Up he came. "What! can I believe my eyes? George; what the-do you do here; Tandem too, by" (I leave blanks for the significant accompaniments which dropped from his mouth, like pearls and rubies in the fairy tale, when he was in a passion.) "I have it, thought I, as an idea crossed my mind which I resolved to follow. I looked right and left, as if it was not possible it could be me he was "What you don't know me you addressing. with Why, Sir,-in the name of common sense— young dog? don't know your own uncle? Pshaw! you've done with that.-Why inname an't you at Cambridge?" "At Cambridge sir?" said I. "At Cambridge, sir," he repeated, mimicking my affected astonishment; bridge! Oh! you young spendthrift; is this the why, I suppose you never were at Camthe way you read hard? You young profligate! manner you dispose of my allowance; Is this energetic, I began to be apprehensive of a you young-you"-Seeing he was getting scene; and resolved to drop the curtain at once. Really, sir," said I, with as brazen a look as I could summon upon emergency, “I have not the honour of your acquaintance"His large eyes assumed a fixed stare of astonishment "I must confess you have the advan tage of me. Excuse me, but, to my knowledge, I never saw you before."-A torrent, perceived, was coming.—“Make no apologies, they are unnecessary. Your next rencontre will, I hope, be more fortunate; though your finding your country cousin in London is like looking for a needle in a bundle of hay.--Bye bye, old buck." The cart was removed, and I drove off; yet not without seeing him, in a paroxysm of rage half frightful, half ludicrous, toss his hat on the ground, and hearing him exclaim-"He disowns me! the jackanapes! disowns his own uncle, by-——.” of Venice are given by Lord Byron, at the opening of the fourth Canto of Childe Harold, when he represents himself as standing upon a bridge, and indulging in the following train of meditations, naturally excited by the decaying splendour, unexpected desertedness, and antient glories of this romantic city I stood in Venice on the bridge of sighs I saw from out the wave her structures rise She looks a sea Cybele, fresh from ocean, In Venice, Tasso's echoes are no more, Poor Philip Chichester's look of amazement at this finished stroke of impudence is present, at this instant, to my memory. I think I see his face, which at no period had more expression than a turnip, assume that air of a pensive simpleton d'un mouton qui réve, which he so often and so succesfully exhibited over an incomprehensible problem in "Principia.”— "Well you've done it.-Dished completely. What could induce you to be such a blockhead?" said he. "The family of the Blockheads, I |