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night after night, in one cruel constrained posture-to hatch young turkeys!"

every change of his countenance. The in proportion. To such a one, “Grawretched parent commanded his fea- cili tam, atque pusillo."-No severe tures, and formed them to express contasks of labour could be assigned even tent, and even hilarity; nay, he en- by the most barbarous task-master. tered into the spirit of the feast, wore What were then the cruelties he had the convivial chaplet, and, though old to relate?" I was treated," he used and infirm, he vied with the most robust to say to his friends, "like a brute of the guests in every joyous excess. animal. They could not make me tug "You ask me," here observes Seneca, at the oar, they could not make me "how and wherefore he acted this drag heavy stones, they made me then strange part. I answer, Habebat al--they made me sit day after day, and terum-He had another son." Here, by a single and very short sentence, the passions of the hearers, which must have been highly excited against the parent for his mean and odious dissimulation, are now as strongly roused in his favour, whose care for the safety of the surviving son (the life of whom would have been forfeited by the least cloud on the father's countenance) had forced him to stifle every feeling of nature, and to wear the mask of joy, while his heart was agonized with every throb of parental wretchedness.

A single ill-chosen word is sometimes fatal to the effect of a really pathetic tale. Dr. Cook, in his "Travels through Russia" (a valuable and entertaining work), affords more than one instance of this error; which, how ever, in one who had resided a long term of years out of his native country, is very pardonable. He describes the cruelties exercised by the Russian troops at the storming of Ockzakow in 1737, and interests his reader strenuously in favour of a gallant Scots lieutenant, a Mr. Innes, who flew from place to place to check the barbarity of the private soldiers, and at the extreme hazard of his life put to death a grenadier, who "in a ridiculous manner was basely diverting himself with the agonies of a poor little innocent, whom he had just pierced with his bayonet.”

Sometimes the distress of the tale will unfortunately chance to be of a species so awkward and ridiculous, that where the audience ought, by the laws of narration, to be most bitterly affected, the smile will unkindly supersede the tear. A refugee officer, who lived to a great age at Bristol, under the title of Capitaine Calamité, took great delight in recounting to his younger neighbours the misfortunes of his early years. His favorite tale was that of his captivity at Algiers. His stature, it must be observed, was most singularly diminutive, and his strength of body small

Solomon's apophthegm, "That there is nothing new under the sun," may be applied with singular propriety to tales. They descend from one another with gradual regularity; and the same adventures, with a little change as to manners, become the amusement of A late French colsuccessive ages. lector of ancient stories has taken the pains to trace many of them down to the present time, through half a score different titles, and twice as many books. The following apologue, which composes a chapter of the Edda, a mythological work of great antiquity, has given many a hint to the composers of fairy tales, &c. &c.

Thor and Loke (the Alcides and the Mercury of the Celts) set out with a comrade, named Thialse, in search of adventures. They found in a desert a rock hollowed into vast caverns, as they supposed, which, however, they afterwards were convinced was only the glove which a giant had dropped: after several such strange events, they entered a city whose gates and edifices proved that it was inhabited by a race immensely gigantic. The king of the place proposed, according to the custom of those days, that each of the three strangers should give a specimen of his skill in some art or exercise. Loke chose to exert his powers in eating; but he was foiled by an adversary who not only consumed the MEAT which was provided for the contest, but also Thor, who affirmed his every BONE. abilities as a drinker to be invincible, found himself unable to empty a horn of liquor which was provided for him; and Thialse, an attendant on Thor, though celebrated for swiftness, was easily vanquished by a puny antagonist. Thor met with two more nucommon humiliations; he was unable to lift from the floor the king's fa

vourite cat, and was brought in a wrestling match with a toothless old woman to bend one keee to the ground. These repeated foils to divinities of such vast power, must have been utterly unaccountable without the help of magic; and magic among the Celts was allowed to rival the power of the deities. In consequence, the king of the giants, after having amused himself by ridiculing the travellers unmercifully, treated them with a hospitable meal; and having, under pretence of doing them honour, accompanied them out of his city gates ;-"Now," said he,

it is time to clear up all these mysteries. As to you, Loke, you are not to wonder that you were out-eaten by your antagonist. It was Fire which rivalled you in gluttony, therefore the bones were as easy for him to destroy as the flesh. You, Thialse, could not be supposed capable of out-stripping Thought, for it was Thought you had to contend with. You, Thor, were ignorant that the horn at which you pulled so lustily was supplied by the SEA, which ac tually was much diminished by your astonishing draught. In your second contest, what your fascinating eyes took for my cat was the world, which by your vast strength you actually succeeded in moving. As to the apparently decrepid old woman, with whom you wrestled with some disadvantage, it was no other than Death, who never before met with a being which could resist her powers." After this denouncement, the sorcerer prudently thought proper to vanish, together with his suite, his city, subjects, and all, being justly apprehensive that Thor, who was not fond of being played upon, and who was celebrated for his aversion to the giant-tribe, might, by the help of his club, render the catastrophe too serious.

TASTE.

It has been said, "De gustibus nil disputandum." We must not, according to that rule, censure the very extraordinary petition of Achmet Bassa, who, as Busbequius informs us, when condemned, in 1555, to be strangled, by order of the sultan, made it his particular request to the executioner that he would deprive him of life by degrees, and that after he had tight ened the bow-string he would loosen it again, that so he might know minutely bow the pangs of death made their approach.

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The taste of Charlotte Elizabeth of Orleans was singular in point of diet. We will take her own words (plain as her favourite aliments), contained in her letters to our late Queen Caroline.

"Je dejeune rarement, mais si je le fais c'est avec une beurrée; toutes ces drogues estrangeres. Je ne puis ni les soufrir ni les supporter. Mon gout aussi peu l'un que l'autre. Je ne prends et mon temperament s'en accommodent jamois ni chicolat, ni caffé, ni thẻ. Pour la table, je suis toujours bonne Allemande, et de la vielle roche, j'aime June, 1716. ce que est simple and sain."* 16th

"Je ne mange jamais de soupe, à moins que ce ne soit de la soupe au lait, à la biere, ou au vin. Je ne puis supporter le bouillon. Il me donne des coliques, et me fait vomer. Le jambon, et les saucesses, me recommodent l'estomac."+ Oct. 8, 1717.

probably without knowing it, agree with How exactly did this blunt princess, who recommends to hard drinkers nearly Horace's Epicurean lecturer, Catius, the same refreshments as the good lady approved of, after her flip and her

negus.

"Perná magis, et magis hillis Flagitat in morsus, refici: quin omnia malit

Quæcunque immundis, fervent allala popiuis."

which may be thus modernized:
No slops for her!-They'll but abash her,
The lady likes a bacon rasher,

And pines to have, within her call,
A tasteful morsel from Whitehall,
Where steams of sausage, savory cheer,

Regale each passing grenadier.

The Sieur de Brantome has supplied us with so many anecdotes, that it would be unjust to pass by one, which does

"I seldom breakfast at all. When I do, I eat a toast and butter. I cannot endure all their drugs and slops. I neither like them, nor do they agree with me. Neither chocolate, coffee, nor tea, do I meddle with. As to meals, I am a German of the old stamp, and like only what is plain and wholesome."

unless they are made of milk, of beer, or of +"For my part, I never eat their soups, wine. I hate their bouillons;" they give

me the cholic, and make me sick. Good Westphalia hams aud sausages are the best remedies that I can find for the disorders of my stomach."

the highest credit to his taste. He laments, with all the warmth of a feeling antiquarian, the demolition of the celebrated and beautiful castle of Lusignan, which the most cruel, the most detestably brutal of men, the Duc de Montpensier,* caused to be levelled with the ground, out of a mean sentiment of revenge, for its long and gallant resistance against his army, during the civil wars of France. He calls it the glory of the kingdom, the nursing place of princes and heroes, and brings in the queen-mother lamenting over its ruins. To crown all, Brantome introduces machinery. He relates the tales universally credited in France, of the supernatural protection which the foundress, Melusina, afforded it for many years, and dwells with pleasure on the terrors of the neighbours, at bearing the shrieks and wailings which attended its ruin. It seems, that the awful ideas which the country people had formed of the castle, and which had been strengthened by the traditions of the ages, had dazzled their eyes, and had produced the wild visions. Sometimes Melusina was seen in the bloom of female beauty, but deformed by a dragon's tail,

"Ut turpiter atrum Desinat in piscem, mulier formosa superne," HORAT.

hovering over the castle. On particular days, she bathed in a rill which washed its walls, but never did she omit to scream fearfully when any disaster was Jike to happen to any of her descendants. At the time of her castle's destruction, ber cries were shriller and louder than ever; but they were vain, when opposed to the self-interested views of M. de Chameroult, to whom the ruin of the fortress was intrusted, and who was determined with the stones to build a house for himself at a small distance from Lusignan.

Considering our present taste in gardening, there is something very extraordinary in a passage in the Spectator, No. 414 "On this account, our English gardens are not so entertaining to the fancy as those of France and Italy, where we see a large extent of ground covered with an agreeable mixture of garden and forest, which represents every where an artificial rudeness, much more charming than that neatness and elegancy which we meet with in those

* Brant me, vol. viii. p. 314.

of our own country." It proceeds to. ask, "Why may not a whole estate be thrown into a kind of garden, by frequent plantations, that may turn as much to the profit as the pleasure of the owner?" Perhaps Shenstone took the hint from Addison, and, in consequence of this question, made of his own estate a model for that elegant style of laying-out grounds which has rendered England's parks and gardens the admiration of all foreigners.

TRANSLATIONS.

A translator should be cautious how he sets out on his work, lest an error in his titlee-page should prejudice the literary reader, though perhaps unjustly, against his whole work.

A Mr. Thomas Cockman, who translated a favourite work of Cicero, would surely have done better, had he rendered the word "Officia❞ Duties, rather than "Offices," as he has done. He proceeds to illustrate one of Tully's maxims by the familiar and modern idea of "clapping a pistol, or the like, Yet, in spite to such a man's breast." of this anachronic vulgarism, and a general meanness of style, the work has seen several editions.

Every translator of Marmontel's "Contés Moraux" has called them "Moral Tales," which surely was never the author's meaning. "Moraux" is there derived from mœurs," and signifies "fashionable," rather than "moral."

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· Comic," it should have been translated idea that the author meant to convey. "Dramatic Romance," which is the

Creech, in his version of Theocritus, brings the names of "Tom, Will, Dick," and of one "Wolf," into the same Idyll with Thynicus, Cunisca, &c. &c.

When the above gross mistakes are considered, it cannot surely be thought too severe to say, that, instead of translators, we in these cases, at least, ought to use the word "Traducer," from Traducteur." And most assuredly we ought to resume the old expressive

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stile of "Done* into English," and sad in the escutcheon of pretence. The doings too!

Great Britain, however, by no means monopolizes bad translators. We read of a French student, who translating from the New Testament, "Erat homo qui habebat manum aridam," rendered it," Il y eut un homme qui avoit une mechante haridelle."—"That mechante haridelle," said his tutor, "must serve to carry you out of the regions of Latin science;" and gave up his charge.*

To the Editor of the European Magazine. Salisbury, 5th Sept.

SIR,

REVIOUS

Pnew Silver Coinage,th issue of the exhibited almost daily specimens of very profound criticism on the abbreviated inscriptions, and whether the word Britt: should have only one T, or a brace of them: next followed some very shrewd guesses, as to the probable length of time the inscription would remain legible, protected as it was by a newly-fashioned raised edge; then came forth some gratuitous praises on the neatness of the exergue, and the inimitable elegance of the milling; concluding with a due share of eulogium on the merits of Mr. Wellesley Pole, for his great diligence in having the coin all-perfect, by placing his own initials (W. W. P.) on the frieze of the escutcheon. With all this vast care and circumspection, it is not a little extraordinary, that two very palpable heraldic blunders occur in the blazon of the arms, on the half-crowns and shillings of 1816 and 1817, and also on the new half-crowns of the latter date (coined since the first issue), as likewise on all the sixpences. I allude to the arms of Scotland in the second quarter, and to those of Lunenburg

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proper arms of Scotland are, Or, a Lion rampant within a double tressure, flory and counterflory, Gules: that is, the inner tressure is adorned with Fleur de Lis on the inside, and the outer one, on the outside; instead of which, the arms of Scotland, as they now appear on the silver coin, are thus emblazoned: Or, a Lion rampant Gules, within a double tressure, the inner one flory, the outer one plain. Posterity will, perhaps, wonder when this abatement took place, and will probably conclude, some of the records of the Heralds' College are lost; the coin of the present day supplying the only existing evidence of this alteration in the Royal Arms of Scotland. This bearing of the tressure was to

by

Charlemagne, when the Scots Kings league with King Achaius, anno 809. When first granted, this tressure was borne only single; but in 1371, Robert Stuart doubled it, by renewing the same alliance with Charles the Vth of France.

The other error to which I have

alluded, is manifest in the Arms of Lunenburg; which should be Or, Semé of hearts proper, a Lion rampant azure. In cutting the die, the field of this impalement should be dotted ::: in addition to the semé of hearts, which would at once point out the bearing to be Or, or gold; whereas by leaving it plain (as it now appears on all the coins in question) a very different tincture in heraldry occurs, known by the name of Argent.

I trust, Sir, that the persons of the Royal Mint, whose province it may be to direct the cutting of the dies, have paid more than ordinary attention to those intended for the Gold Coinage. I have seen two or three of the Sovereigns, they have only the collar of the Garter and badge on the reverse: the Half Sovereigns (which, we are informed, have the arms "beautifully emblazoned") I hope to find emblazoned correctly as well as " beautifully ;” for Dr. Johnson very accurately ob serves, that all ornaments owe their beauty to their propriety."

I am, Sir,

Your very obedient servant,

SAMUEL HERBERT HAWES.

THE HIVE.

No. XXXIII.

THE PLEASURIST.

INDS that derive all their plea

SELF CONFIDENCE..

How difficult to follow is the line of truth with the greatest perspicuity of wisdom and virtue! what then the blindness of prejudice and self-interest?

levity man

of promiscuous company, are seldom
able to contribute, in any high degree,
to their own amusement. Characters
like these search every place for enter-
tainment, except their own bosoms, and
the bosoms of their surrounding fami-
lies. The wearied pleasurist, sinking
under the weight upon his spirits, flies
to scenes of public gaiety, or private
splendor, in fond, but vain, expectation,
that they will dispel his discontent, and
recreate his mind; but he finds, alas!
that the fancied asylum affords him no
rest. The ever-craving appetite for
pastime always grows by what it feeds
on. While he eagerly embraces every
object that promises to supply the dire
ful vacancy of his mind, he exhausts
its remaining strength, enlarges the
wound he is so anxiously endeavouring
to heal; and by too eagerly grasping
at the phantom Pleasure, loses, perhaps
for ever, the substantial power of being
happy.
T. H.

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As I am a man, I must be changeable: and sometimes the gravest are so, even upon ridiculous accidents, owing to the temperament of our bodies, which makes me suspect they are nearer allied than either our philosophers or school divines will allow them to be. "I bave observed," says Montaigne, "that when the body is out of order, its companion is seldom at ease." And ill dreams or a cloudy day has power to change this wretched creature, who is so proud of a reasonable soul, and make him think what he thought not yesterday. T. H.

straight an hundred yards, will probably be much surprised to find himself so strangely wide of his intended mark, as he certainly will be when the bandage is taken off his eyes; and should not we, think you, be surprised to find how wide we are from that line of truth, if our bandage was taken off? But how dissimilar are the two cases! in the first, the bandage is put on by another, and the man expects to be a little wide of the straight path; but in the last, we put it on ourselves, and expect to walk perfectly true. Nay, strange imagination! we begin putting on this bandage, and then believe we have it not on: we choose to go in the dark, and like Lord Peter his loaf was a shoulder of mutton; we swear we have nothing at all on our eyes, that we see perfectly well, and heartily execrate those who contradict us.

T. H.

PROSPERITY AND ADVERSITY.

Characters enervated by Prosperity feel the smallest inconvenience as a serious calamity; and unable to bear the touch of rude and violent hands, require to be treated, like young and tender flowers, with delicacy and atten tion; while those who have been edu cated in the rough school of Adversity, walk over the thorns of life with a firm and intrepid step, and kick them from the path with indifference and contempt. Superior to the false opinious and prejudices of the world, they bear with patient fortitude the blow of misfortune, disregard all trifling injuries, and look down with proud contempt on the malice of their enemies, and the infidelity of their friends. T. H.

ANECDOTE RELATING TO THE ORIGINAL

MACHEATH.

Tom Walker, the original and jovial Macheath, once gave out a play, in which he exhibited his happy talent for blundering. It was upon a Saturday night, the play Henry the Eighth, for After the benefit of Mrs. Bicknell: having made his bow, he began, "Ladies and Gentlemen, to-morrow→→→"

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