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The poor interpreter was confounded, and unable to utter a word in his defence. At this critical moment, however, Messrs. Fernandez, Pambonc, and others who have access to the Pacha, interposed; and it was some time before they could reduce his Highness to reason; his passion had thrown him into an hysterical hiccup. When his Highness was a little recovered, Mr. Fernandez endeavoured to explain to him that there was no question about business: that the ulemas of Frankfort were possessed of no stock but books, and had no capital. "So much the worse," replied the Pacha; "then they are sahhaftehi, (booksellers,) who carry on their business without money, like the Franks at Cairo and Alexandria." "Oh, no, they are no sahhaftehi, but ulemas, kiatibs, (authors,) physicians, philoussoufs, &c., who are only engaged in science." "Well," said he," and what am I then to do in their society; I, a Pacha of three horse tails?" "Nothing at all, your Highness, like perhaps most of the members of their society, but by receiving you into their society, these gentlemen intended to show you their respect and gratitude." "That is a strange custom, indeed," cried the Pacha, "to show respect to a person by telling or writing to him in funny letters-you

"But

are worthy of being one of us.” this is the custom," added Divan Effendi (his Secretary.) "Your Happiness knows that the friends (Franks) have many customs different from ours, and often such as are very ridiculous. For instance, if they wish to salute a person, they bare their heads, and scrape with their right foot backwards; instead of sitting down comfortably on a sofa to rest themselves, they sit on little wooden chairs, as if they were about to be shaved: they eat the pillao with spoons, and the meat with pincers; but what seems most laughable is, that they humbly kiss the hands of their women, who, instead of the yashmak, (veil,) carry straw baskets on their heads; and that they mix sugar and milk with their coffee." This last sally set the whole assembly (his Highness excepted) in a roar of laughter. Among those who stood near the fountain in the middle of the hall, several exclaimed with respect to the coffee with sugar and milk, Kiafirler! (Ah, ye infidels!)

In the end the Pacha was pacified, and "All's well that ends well;" but it had been better, it seems, if, according to the customs of the east, the society of Frankfort had sent the Pacha the unquestionable civility of a present, that he could have applied to some use.

ST. BRIDE'S CHURCH.

On the 11th of January, 1825, a sketch of this church was taken from a secondfloor window in the house No. 115, Fleetstreet, which stands on the opposite side of the way to that whereon the opening was made by the late fire; and the subjoined engraving from the sketch is designed to perpetuate the appearance through that opening. Till then, it had been concealed from the view of passengers through Fleet-street by the houses destroyed, and the conflagration has been rightly deemed a favourable opportunity for endeavouring to secure a space of sufficient extent to render the church a public ornament to the city. To at least one person, professionally unskilled, the spire of St. Bride's appears more chaste and effective than the spire of Bow. In 1805, it was 234 feet high, which is thirty-two feet higher than the Monument, but having been struck by lightning in that year, it was lowered to its present standard.

St. Bride's church was built by sir Christopher Wren, and completed in 1680. It has been repeatedly beautified:

its last internal decorations were effected in 1824. In it are interred Thomas Flatman the poet, Samuel Richardson the novelist, and William Bingley, a bookseller, remarkable for his determined and successful resistance to interrogatories by the court of King's Bench-a practice which that resistance abated for ever: his latter years were employed, or rather were supported, by the kindness of the venerable and venerated John Nichols, Esq. F. S. A. whose family tablet of brass is also in this church. As an ecclesiastical edifice, St. Bride's is confessedly one of the most elegant in the metropolis: an unobstructed view of it is indispensable therefore to the national character. Appeals which will enable the committee to purchase the interests of individuals on the requisite site are now in progress, and can scarcely be unheeded by those whom wealth, taste, and liberality dispose to assist in works of public improvement. The engraved sketch does not claim to be more than such a representation as may give a distant reader some grounds for determining whether a vigorous effort to save a build

ing of that appearance from enclosure this month, and are entitled to a place in a second time ought not now to be made. this sheet. The proceedings for that purpose are in

[graphic]

St. Bride's Church, London, as it appeared Jan. 11, 1625. Fam the opening in

el-street made by the Fire of Sunday, November 14, 1824.

[graphic][merged small]

This diversion, resorted to at visitings during the twelve days of Christmas, as of ancient custom, continues without abatement during the prolongation of friendly meetings at this season. Persons who are opposed to this recreation from religious scruples, do not seem to distinguish between its use and its abuse. Mr. Archdeacon Butler refers to the "harmless mirth and innocent amusements of society," in his sermon on "Christian Liberty," before the duke of Gloucester, and the university of Cambridge, on his royal highness's installation as chancellor, June 30, 1811. The archdeacon quotes, as a note on that point in his sermon, a remarkable passage from Jeremy Taylor, who says, "that cards, &c. are of themselves lawful, I do not know any reason to doubt. He can never be suspected, in any criminal sense, to tempt the Divine Providence, who by contingent things recreates his labour. As for the evil appendages, they are all separable from these games, and they may be separated by these advices, &c." On the citation, which is here abridged, the archdeacon remarks, "Such are the sentiments of one of the most truly pious and most profoundly learned prelates that ever adorned any age or country; nor do I think that the most rigid of our disciplinarians can produce the authority of a wiser or a

better man than bishop Jeremy Taylor." Certainly not; and therefore an objector to this pastime will do well to read the reasoning of the whole passage as it stands at the end of the archdeacon's printed sermon: if he desire further, let him peruse Jeremy Taylor's " advices."

Cards are not here introduced with a view of seducing parents to rear their sons as gamblers and blacklegs, or their daughters to

"a life of scandal, an old age of cards ;" but to impress upon them the importance of "not morosely refusing to participate in" what the archdeacon refers to, as of the "harmless mirth and innocent amusements of society." Persons who are wholly debarred from such amusements in their infancy, frequently abuse a pleasure they have been wholly restrained from, by excessive indulgence in it on the first opportunity. This is human nature: let the string be suddenly withdrawn from the overstrained bow, and the relaxation of the bow is violent.

Look at a juvenile card-party-not at that which the reader sees represented in the engraving, which is somewhat varied from a design by Stella, who grouped boys almost as finely as Fiamingo modelled their forms-but imagine a juvenile party closely seated round a large table, with a Pope Joan board in the middle;

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each well supplied with mother-o'-pearl
fish and counters, in little Chinese orna-
mented red and gold trays; their faces and
the candles lighting up the room; their
bright eyes sparkling after the cards,
watching the turn-up, or peeping into the
pool to see how rich it is; their growing
anxiety to the rounds, till the lucky card
decides the richest stake; then the shout
out of "Rose has got it!" "It's Rose's!"
"Here, Rose, here they are-take 'em all;
here's a lot!" Emma, and John, and Al-
fred, and William's hands thrust forth to
help her to the prize; Sarah and Fanny,
the elders of the party, laughing at their
eagerness; the more sage Matilda check-
ing it, and counting how many fish Rose
has won; Rose, amazed at her sudden
wealth, talks the least; little Samuel, who
is too young to play, but has been allowed
a place, with some of the "pretty fish" be-
fore him, claps his hands and halloos, and
throws his playthings to increase Rose's
treasure; and baby Ellen sits in "mo-
"up-
ther's" lap, mute from surprise at the "
roar wild," till a loud crow, and the quick
motion of her legs, proclaim her delight at
the general joy, which she suddenly sus-
pends in astonishment at the many fingers
pointed towards her, with "Look at baby!
look at baby!" and gets smothered with
kisses, from which "mother" vainly en-
deavours to protect her. And so they go
on, till called by Matilda to a new game,
go and sit
and "mother" bids them to "
down, and be good children, and not
make so much noise:" whereupon they
disperse to their chairs; two or three of
the least help up Samuel, who is least of
all, and "mother" desires them to "take
care, and mind he does not fall." Matilda
then gives him his pretty fish" to keep
him quiet;" begins to dress the board for
a new game; and once more they are
"as merry as grigs."

In contrast to the jocund pleasure of
children at a round game, take the pic-
ture of "old Sarah Battle," the whist-
player. "A clear fire, a clean hearth,
and the rigour of the game," was her ce-
"She was none of your
lebrated wish.
lukewarm gamesters, your half-and-half
players, who have no objection to take a
hand, if you want one to make up a rub-
ber; who affirm that they have no plea-
sure in winning; that they like to win
one game, and lose another; that they
can wile away an hour very agreeably at
a card-table, but are indifferent whether
they play or no; and will desire an ad-

92

There

versary, who has slipt a wrong card, to
take it up and play another. Of such it
may be said that they do not play at
cards, but only play at playing at them.
Sarah Battle was none of that breed; she
detested them from her heart and soul;
and would not, save upon a striking
emergency, willingly seat herself at the
same table with them. She loved a tho-
rough-paced partner, a determined enemy.
She took and gave no concessions; she
hated favours; she never made a revoke,
nor ever passed it over in her adversary,
without exacting the utmost forfeiture.
She sat bolt upright, and neither showed
you her cards, nor desired to see yours.
All people have their blind side-their
superstitions; and I have heard her de-
clare, under the rose, that Hearts was her
favourite suit. I never in my life (and I
knew Sarah Battle many of the best years
of it) saw her take out her snuffbox when
it was her turn to play, or snuff a candle
in the middle of a game, or ring for a ser-
She never
vant till it was fairly over.
introduced, or connived at, miscellaneous
conversation during its process: as, she
emphatically observed, cards were cards.
A grave simplicity was what she chiefly
admired in her favourite game.
was nothing silly in it, like the nob in
To con-
cribbage-nothing superfluous.
fess a truth, she was never greatly taken
with cribbage. It was an essentially
vulgar game, I have heard her say,—dis-
puting with her uncle, who was very par-
tial to it. She could never heartily bring
her mouth to pronounce 'go,' or 'that's
a go.' She called it an ungrammatical
game. The pegging teased her. I once
knew her to forfeit a rubber, because she
would not take advantage of the turn-up
knave, which would have given it her,
but which she must have claimed by the
disgraceful tenure of declaring two for
his heels.' Sarah Battle was a gentle-
woman born." These, omitting a few
delicate touches, are her features by the
hand of Elia. "No inducement," he says,
"could ever prevail upon her to play at
And
her favourite game for nothing.'
then he adds, "With great deference to
the old lady's judgment on these matters,
I think I have experienced some moments
in my life when playing at cards for
nothing has even been agreeable. When
I am in sickness, or not in the best spirits,
I sometimes call for the cards, and play
a game at piquet for love with my cousin
Bridget-Bridget Elia" Cousin Bridget

and the gentle Elia seem beings of that age wherein lived Pamela, whom, with "old Sarah Battle," we may imagine entering their room, and sitting down with them to a square game. Yet Bridget and Elia live in our own times: she, full of kindness to all, and of soothings to Elia especially;-he, no less kind and consoling to Bridget, in all simplicity holding converse with the world, and, ever and anon, giving us scenes that Metzu and De Foe would admire, and portraits that Denner and Hogarth would rise from their graves to paint.

January 12.

St. Arcadius. St. Benedict Biscop, or Bennet. St. Elred, Tygrius.

St. Benedict Biscop, or Bennet. Butler says he was in the service of Oswi, king of the Northumbrians; that at twentyfive years old he made a pilgrimage to Rome, returned and carried Alcfrid, the son of Oswi, back to the shrines of the apostles there, became a monk, received the abbacy of Sts. Peter and Paul, Canterbury, resigned it, pilgrimaged again to Rome, brought home books, relics, and religious pictures, founded the monastery of Weremouth, went to France for masons to build a church to it, obtained glaziers from thence to glaze it, pilgrimaged to Rome for more books, relics, and pictures, built another monastery at Jarrow on the Tine, adorned his churches with pictures, instructed his monks in the Gregorian chant and Roman ceremonies, and died on this day in 690. He appears to have had a love for literature and the arts, and, with a knowledge superior to the general attainment of the religious in that early age, to have rendered his knowledge subservient to the Romish church.

CHRONOLOGY.

1807. The 12th of January in that year is rendered remarkable by a fatal accident at Leyden, in Holland. A vessel loaded with gunpowder entered one of the largest canals in the Rapen burg, a street inhabited chiefly by the most respectable families, and moored to a tree in front of the house of professor Rau, of the university. In Holland, almost every street has a canal in the middle, faced with a brick wall up to the level of the street, and with lime trees planted on both sides, which produce a

beautiful effect, and form a delightful shade in hot weather. Vessels of all kinds are frequently moored to these trees, but Leyden being an inland town, the greater part of those which happened to be in the Rapenburg were country vessels. Several yachts, belonging to parties of pleasure from the Hague and other places, were lying close to the newly arrived vessel, and no person was aware of the destructive cargo it contained.

A student of the university, who, at about a quarter past four o'clock in the afternoon, was passing through a street from which there was a view of the Rapenburg, with the canal and vessels, related the following particulars to the editor of the Monthly Magazine :--

"At that moment, when every thing was perfectly tranquil, and most of the respectable families were sitting down to dinner in perfect security, at that instant, I saw the vessel torn from its moorings; a stream of fire burst from it in all directions, a thick, black cloud enveloped all the surrounding parts and darkened the heavens, whilst a burst, louder and more dreadful than the loudest thunder, instantly followed, and vibrated through the air to a great distance, burying houses and churches in one common ruin. For some moments horror and consternation deprived every one of his recollection, but an universal exclamation followed, of "O God, what is it?" Hundreds of people might be seen rushing out of their falling houses, and running along the streets, not knowing what direction to take; many falling down on their knees in the streets, persuaded that the last day was come; others supposed they had been struck by lightning, and but few seemed to conjecture the real cause. In the midst of this awful uncertainty, the cry of "O God, what is it?" again sounded mournfully through the air, but it seemed as if none could answer the dreadful question. One conjecture followed another, but at last, when the black thick cloud which had enveloped the whole city had cleared away a little, the awful truth was revealed, and soon all the inhabitants of the city were seen rushing to the ruins to assist the sufferers. There were five large schools on the Rapenburg, and all at the time full of children. The horror of the parents and relations of these youthful victims is not to be described or even imagined; and

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