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London, in its improvements or embel TROPOLIS NOT MERELY OF ENGLAND, lishments, has scarcely kept pace with the BUT OF THE WHOLE BRITISH EM provincial towns. It is but, like one of PIRE!" Guthrie, thou god of my youthits booksellers, a proprietor of a series of ful idolatry, hide thy head for eververy indifferent Highways and Byeways. Pinkerton, thou Goth of my riper years, The houses crowd together and jostle like carry thy quartos to the Pozzi-Malte their inhabitants at an election, or in a Brun, listen thou unto the wizard, Caledonian chapel. There is not even a “ LONDON IS THE METROPOLIS OF good leading street to connect the two ENGLAND." Yes, it is indeed ; and “it grand divisions, the City and West End would be well to remember” it. Let of the Town. The best of them, that by the great truth be written in letters of the Strand, Fleet-Street, and St Paul's gold, that he who runs may read. But Church Yard, presents a tortuous, un
this is not all for what is the whole seemly, and, for the most part, narrow
British empire? why, it is “an empassage, disturbed by cross thoroughfares, jutting churches, and elephants' man
pire, (vide supra,) which, comprising sions; it is also so invariably choked by its dependencies in Asia, Africa, and stoppages, as to wage continual warfare America, as well as in Europe, in point against business.
of population is erceeded by few; and, " People quite forget the importance considering its wealth, knowledge, inof the public buildings and the public
tellectual energy, commercial enteravenues to their daily comfort and conve- prize, and the consequent moral and phynience; and it would take an entire pa
sical power, perhaps unequalled by any, per to shew the influences of all kinds
ancient or modern !!!” 'Mullion, my which the position and the construction boy, had you any idea of that? —will of a city have upon the morals and ba- you ever again argue with me against bits of its inhabitants-many of them are popular education ? If you do, “s
you very evident. If a town is composed of will do well to remember that London small houses, and spread over an immense is the metropolis of England,” and space, communication will be difficult, that the article Thames QUAY, in and social intercourse obstructed, and, of which that mighty truth was first forcourse, diminished.”
mally promulgated, was written Oh! my Mullion, mildest of men, A PAVIOUR.” what beauty of expression !
Since the days of Akenside, we have ing disposition to improve the conve had no such imaginative writer as the nience of the country at large.” Our Paviour. " London is but like one of scribe of the New Series here means its booksellers, a proprietor of a series “the out-of-door nature” of the Cock- of very indifferent Highways and Byeneys, which is now beginning “to lie ways. Sly, satirical dog! Each more convenient to town;" — " stoning street a little ago was like St Stephen; all the streets to death, as if they were and now the whole of London, " the so many St Stephens !” What profound metropolis, not merely of England, knowledge, and striking application but of the whole British empire,” is of Holy Writ! what beautiful expres, like " one of its booksellers!” Damn sion given to the scientific disco- the idiot, Mullion,-isn't that enough very of streets being now, for the first to send No. I. of the New Series of lime, made of stones ! how novel the the London into the paper-box of your similitude, yet how natural and ob- cigarium ? yet I question if a leaf of vious, as soon as made, between a long such material would light a cigar. It street under the process of Macadam- is fit only for a pipe at the Pig and ization, and him the first martyr! The Whistle. delighted reader wonders how a resem Forgive this sally--but, my dear blance so strong at all points had ne- English Opium-Eater, I insist upon ter presented itself to his own pensive your reading aloud to our friend A!. imagination ! that it should first have lan Cunninghame, the following senappeared in the New Series of the tence, written in Itălics, as Hogg calls London, Anno Domini 1825! But them; and if you do not both agree with what perfect ease and mastery with me in declaring it, not only at does the gifted author of the THAMES the head of all periodical, but also of Quar turn from poetry to prose, from all idiotical composition, my name is fancy to fact, from martyrology to sta not Timothy Tickler. tistics! “ IT WOULD BE WELL TO RF People quite forget the importance of MEMBER THAT LONDON IS THE ME the public buildings and the prublic avenue
to thetr daily comfort and convenience; and garter, thereby enticing people to play. it would take an entire paper lo shew the in- (P. 49.) fluences of all kinds which the position and “ We do not find the Rev. Mr Bunthe construction of a city have upon the mo tingford, or Archdeacon
racked rals and habits of its inhabitants-many of for dabbling in guinea whist, or Squire them are very evident. If a town is com Holyoak for vitiating the Melton bunt posed of small houses, and spread over an with ecarté. immense space, communication will be diffi “ James Birch ; for singing ballads in cult, and social intercourse obstrucled, and, the public streets, &c. '(P. 89.) of course, diminished.”
'" What a blessing not to be born muNo such thing, you blockhead; I sical—the House of Correction is now give you the lie direct. If a town is your only musical box. At p. 101, we spread over an immense space, I main find John Voice ran away, and left his tain that communication will be much child chargeable to the parish of Aleasier, social intercourse cleared of all bourne.' Doubtless he ran away with obstruction, and, of course, increased. the best intentions; for, for him to stay What comes next?-The VAGRANT
was criminal. What could be do?-Vor, Act. This is a comical rogue,- I know
et prælerea nihil !'-The wheel was all him-You remember the kicking he before him, where to choose.” received on a certain occasion from a This irresistible irony is followed reporter in the Old Times, a degra- up by a letter from Hookey Walker dation far beyond that of the tread. to the editor, which I, at first pemill. Take the followiug as a speci- rusal, opined to be fictitious, but I now men of the rogue's manner :
see that it is from a real vagrant of “ John Mowes; sleeping in an open that name, well known about the subshed, and not being able to give a good urbs of London, (the metropolis, not account of himself. (P. 31.)
only of Great Britain, but of the whole “ Marry! a legal settlement under a British empire, an empire containing, hedge! poor Mr and Mistress Smith! &c.) Then comes a sort of postscript • Hail, wedded pair ! Connubial comfort, by the editor, who relapses into the bail !'—John Mowes too, -caught in the following most elegant badinage.. fact of sleeping in an open shed, -how Come, Vir Taylor, come forward, if could he, without a lie, give a good account of himself ?-There are, however, you please, once more, before an adhundreds of such hard cases as these in “ a good feeling," you gave, with your
miring public, and protest that, from the prison returns !
prim and pursed mouth, your “We come now to the report of William Matthews.
primatur." “ William Matthews; going to the " At p. 18, we have Thomas Moore for Swan Inn, at Horsham, St Faith, and be- selling the Great Stambridge breeches, baving himself in a very outrageous and a crime which he can only have comabusive manner towards Elizabeth, the mitted in some moment of anacreontic wife of George Kerry, of the said inn, and hilarity. threatening to destroy the said inn, and “ At p. 27, Thomas Little stands had no money to pay his reckoning !-One charged on the oath of a constable, and calendar month's hard labour, and whip on his own confession. It will be rememped. (P. 69.)
bered that this gentleman put as a motto “ A very Thurtell of vagrants is this, in the title-page to his little production, this William Matthews. -Outrageous “ Lusisse pudet," little thinking it would to Mrs Kerry, who, perhaps, however, conduct him to the tread-mill. herself did not draw of the mildest, but “ At p. 43, we have Campbell for not then threatening to destroy the inn! - giving a good account of himself (we the Swan !—Threatening to destroy the feared his connexions with the New Swan, a most ancient crime !-and, not Monthly would do him no good)—and at stopping here,—but, not having money to p. 30, we meet with Scott begging. pay his reckoning !-Out upon him! The At p. 54, Mrs Mary Ann Clarke ; idle wheel was made for such a miscreant. and disorderly. • To this complexion
“ Frederic Baggis ; threalening to leave must she come at last!' his wife to the parish! (P. 41.)
“ At p. 25, Samuel Rogers; wandering “ A parlous legacy!
abroad, lodging in ale-houses, and being “ By the way, we do not find this sort unable to give a good account of himof threat strictly punishable under the act. self.
“ Thomas Lounds; unlawfully playing “ Perhaps this' talented person was at a certain game, called pricking the not blessed with the pleasures of me
mory just at the moment he was under And Naiads dashing from their silver examination.
springs, " James Smith, of rejected popularity, is And all which verse or fable sweetly. idle, wandering, and drinking at nearly sings.” every page. He is, unquestionably, an Our poet-whoever he be-resting incorrigible rogue and vagabond. His under the shade of his laurels,signs picture, like that of Fortune, ought to himself “ Umbroso." But he was be painted on a wheel. He is so eter bound to finish the address and he nally at work, that he is called by Cubitt
called by Cubitt has used the nightingale extremely ill, his Tire-smith.”
and Bolton-Abbey not a little scurBut here are some verses-to the vily, by giving way to A BIOGRA Nightingale, too-and written in the
PHICAL MEMOIR OF MR LISTÖN." woods of Bolton Abbey. Let any young Here is a copy of verses by the As- . lady take Barry Cornwall, and gently tronomer Royal of the New Series. stupify him over the fumes of a small The subject is a fallen star. The Asstill, in shape and size like a tea-pot, tronomer Royal, it would appear, saw put a crow-quill into his hand, bring a star fall out of the firmament one her Album, and insist on the author of night lately, an occurrence by no the Deluge apostrophizing a nightin
means uncoinmon in that part of the gale, and what better or worse would heavens which overhangs Cockney, she expect than
Land. No intelligence had reached " Fine bird, who mournest o'er the by- the Observatory of its having been
picked up, neither is its course intiLike one of life complaining or greatmated by the Astronomer Royal. It wrong,
was, no doubt, towards Hampstead. Turn hither! and, fine bird, o'er Bolton bowers
" THE FALLEN STAR. (Too much forgotten) spread thy wealth " A star is gone! a star is gone ! of song,” &c.
There is a blank in heaven! Now, if this be Barry, or of the Barry One of the cherub quire has done breed, we shall not be long without a His aery course this even. few heathen divinities, and here they
“ He sat upon the orb of fire come, ready cut and dry.
That hung for ages there ; “ For never since the Phrygian mood And lent his music to the quire was heard,
That haunts the nightly air. And never since the Dorian pipe grew
“ But when his thousand years were past, rich
With a cherubic sigh With melancholy meaning,—such as
He vanish'd with his car at last,stirr'd
For even cherubs die. The mermaids' music, when the stars could witch
“ Hear how his angel-brothers mourn Old Ocean to his depths, or Triton's word
The minstrels of the spheres ! Alarm'd the waters of the salt-sea-ditch!
Each chiming sadly in his turn, Where Calpe mocks the moon-has
And dropping splendid tears. aught been known To mate the words thou sighest in green “ The planetary Sisters all woods lope.
Join in the fatal song,
And weep their hapless brother's fall, Sing on! Sing on, dear bird! a home
Who sang with them so long. more green Than this grew never on green earth, “ But deepest of the choral band since man
The lunar Spirit sings, Fashion'd those antique dreams wherein And with a bass-according hand
Sweeps all her sullen strings. Thessalian Tempé, and the streams which
“ From the deep chambers of the dome Through valleys, on whose slopes rough Where sleepless Uriel lies, f Fauns did lean,
His rude harmonic thunders come When poets of old Greece saw sylvan Pan, Mingled with mighty sighs.
.“ In the music of the spheres, the moon is said to contribute the gravest and most sonorous part of the harmony."
† “ Uriel,--the angel of the sun. VOL. XVII.
« The thousand car-bound cherubim, man baron, who was slain by the hand of The wandering Eleven,
Harold himself, at the fatal battle of All join to chant the dirge of him Hastings. Be this as it may, we find a Who fell just now from heaven." family of that name flourishing some cen
turies later in that county. Jolin Dellis.. Match me that, Mullion. Read it ton, knight, was High-Sheriff for Kent, over again, and tell me if you ever according to Fabian, quinto Henrici Sexti; read the like before. How do you ac
and we trace the lineal branch flourishcount for the universal blindness of ing downwards--the orthography varymankind to so very marked an occur
ing, according to the unsettled usage of rence as this, right over their heads and the times, from Delleston to Leston, or houses ? It must have happened in the Liston, between which it seems to have day-time--or perhaps at night, when alternated, till, in the latter end of the all the world, and his wife, were asleep. reign of James I., it finally settled into
the determinate and pleasing dissyllabic It is well worth a place, however, in the Obituary. Now, mind my words; nadab Liston, the eldest male represen
arrangement which it still retains. Ami. we shall be having this astronomical tative of the family of that day, was of ninny figuring away in the New Se- the strictest order of Puritans." ries.-Stanzas for music, by the author of the Fallen Star. The Cock No; you are wrong, I assure youneys will be carrying about this Poem
he is not a mule-he is a bona fide gefor weeks to come, spouting it into nuine ass, and I could shew you his each other's noses-“ It is full of ge
pedigree; but you are always so cur. nius, sir-full of passion—not only
sedly obstinate, and so proud of your fancy, but imagination. What ma
natural history. Well, then, hear him jesty of sound in The wandering
bray once more. I say he is an ass. Eleven !'-It reminds one of Keats.
" In the midst of some most pathetic Had you seen how Hazlitt stared at passage, the parting of Jaffier with his the first recitation-Nothing finer in
dying friend, for instance, he would sud. Wordsworth !" Yes, Mullion, it is denly be surprised with a fit of violent thus the bantams of Cockaigne gocrow
horse-laughter. While the spectators ing over each little addled article, as
were all sobbing before him with emo. if it were absolutely the egg of a Phæ
tion, suddenly one of those grotesque
faces would peep out upon him, and he nix, if such a thing might be suppo
could not resist the impulse. A timely sed, till you, or North, or-God for.
excuse once or twice served his purpose, give me—perhaps my own thoughtless
but no audience could be expected to self-takes it up into his hand, and,
bear repeatedly this violation of the conoch hone aree ! -the shell breaks, and forth with there is a splutter of puru
tinuity of feeling. He describes them
(the illusions) as so many demons haunt.. lent matter, that would never have
ing him, [and, paralysing every effect. become chickified, had it been sat upon Even now, I am told, he cannot recite for months by a whole New Series of the famous soliloquy in Hamlet, even in geese and ganders.
private, without immoderate bursts of But here comes the great Spanish laughter." Ass, upwards of 14 hands high. Gen. tlemen, you shall hear him bray.
Now, Mullion, are not all your
doubts removed ?* “ BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF
I remember some months ago, that MR LISTON.
Snug the Joiner, in the Lion's Head, “ The subject of our memoir is line- roared out to his subscribers, that no ally descended from Johan de L'Estonne, magazine ever reviewed any new books, (see Doomesday Bouk, where he is so
and that therefore he was going to written,) who came in with the Conque- begin. He does so, in the New Seror, and bad lands awarded him at Lup- ries. And with what book ?-Don ton Magna, in Kent. His particular me
Juan!! Snug supposes that so wicked rits or services, Fabian, whose authority a book cannot have been read much, I chiefly follow, has forgotten, or perhaps and therefore he proposes to perform thought it immaterial to specify." Fuller the same operation on Don Juan as thinks that he was standard-bearer to Mr Bowdler of Bath performed upon Hugo de Agmondesham, a powerful Nor Wicked Will of Warwickshire. He
• Yes, he is an ass.-M. Mullion,
is going to reprint the poem, without -when I felt an ugly smart in my neck, the naughty verses, in order that it as if something had gored it behind, and may be perused to advantage by the turning round, it was my old friend and same virgins who read the following neighbour, Dulcet, the confectioner, who, VISION OF HORNS.
meaning to be pleasant, had thrust his Yes ! lo and behold-a VISION OF protuberance right into my nape, and Horns!-Why scratchest thou thy seemed proud of his power of offending." head, my dear Mullion? Why, Lon Genius, like Elia's, can throw an air don Maga is quite a woman of the of eloquence and delicacy over the world ; nay, verily, a woman of the coarsest subject. How keen the edge town, and her mirth is most indeco- of his satire, and yet how lightly rous. How shocking must her slang wielded his weapon ! « Now," con be to the chaste ears and “good feel
tinues the ' ingenious and original ing” of her keeper, Mr Taylor ! What Elia of the London,' “ I was assailed will Mrs Fry say? She used to be a right and left, till, in my own defence, very demure female, somewhat home I was obliged to walk sideling and ly, no doubt, and not very captivating; wary, and look about me, as you guard but, although I“thought her prattle to your eyes in London streets; for the be tedious," there was a rosy puden- horns thickened and came at me like cy about her lips, that once a-month the ends of umbrellas, poking in one's was not so much amiss to an old sub- face. They do not know what danscriber. But now-fye on it-equi- gerous weapons they protrude in front, voque, double-entendre, and down and will stick their best friends with right, plain-spoken" skulduddery," provoking complacency.” How like is with her the order of the day. Now the language of a dream! How far for the Vision of Horns.
superior to Coleridge's Kubla-Khan! The wit of the Vision is this : Why, it is quite Shakspearean ! But Elia (God forgive him) becomes clear
hark sighted in a dream, and, to his utter
“ Desiring to be better informed of dismay, observes that every man of the ways of this extraordinary people, I his acquaintance is a-cuckold, and applied myself to a fellow of some assuthis important information he com rance, who (it appeared) acted as a sort municates, at the rate of ten guineas of interpreter to strangers-he was dressa-sheet, to London, “which is the me, ed in a military uniform, and strongly retropolis, not merely of Great Britain, sembled Colonel of the Guards; but of the whole British empire.” His -and • Pray, sir,' said I, have all the in friends are all interesting characters, habitants of your city these troublesome and they all belong to the most inte excrescences ? I beg pardon, I see you resting professions. We have Dick
have none. You perhaps are single.' Mitis, a cheesemonger; Dulcet, a con
. Truly, sir,' he replied with a smile, fectioner; Placid, an annuitant; and for the most part we have, but not all various clerks of the India-House.
alike. There are some, like Dick, that Elia, even in his dreams, is addicted sport but one tumescence. Their ladies to the very best society; and among
have been tolerably faithful-have conthese delightful citizens he introduces
fined themselves to a single aberration or also no less a man than a colonel - so-these we call Unicorns. Dick, you yes, an absolute colonel in the army.
must know, is my Unicorn. (He spoke
this with an air of invincible assurance.) « Dick Mitis, the little cheesemonger Then we have Bicorns, Tricorns, and so in St 's Passage, was the first that on up to Millecorns. (Here methought salated me, with his hat off-you know I crossed and blessed myself in my dream.] Dick's way to a customer-and, I not Some again we have-there goes onebeing aware of him, he thrust a strange you see how happy the rogue looksbean into my left eye, which pained and how he walks smiling, and perking up grieved me exceedingly; but, instead of his face, as if he thought himself the only apology, he only grinned and fleered in man! He is not married yet, but on my face, as much as to say, “it is the cus Monday next he leads to the altar the tom of the country,' and passed on. accomplished widow Dacres, relict of our ." I had scarce time to send a civil late sheriff.' message to his lady-whom have al « «I see, sir,' said I, and observe that ways admired as a pattern of a wife, and he is happily free from the national goitre, do indeed take Dick and her to be a mo- (let me call it,) which distinguishes most del of conjugal agreement and harmony of your countrymen.'