Page images
PDF
EPUB

left until it becomes soft. It is then taken out and carefully peeled, the stalk being left on. To prevent any loss of juice, it is placed on a strainer, under which is a dish. When peeled it is put into an oven heated to the ordinary temperature for bread, and left there 24 hours. When taken out and cold, the fruit is pressed flat between the hands; and after being plunged in its own juice, which has been set apart for that purpose, it is packed in boxes and exported.

POPULATION OF PARIS.

According to the last census, the population of Paris amounts to 713,765; the number of births year. ly to 25,156; marriages, 6,465; and deaths, 22,917. It is estimated that there are in that captal 346,188

men;

367,796 women; 224,922 hearths; 366,000 individuals living upon their property, or by their industry: 348,000 by their daily labour; 77,192 from charity; 3,987 sick in the hospitals; 9,771 infirm or aged persons in the workhouses; 12,580 foundling children; 16,000 men in garrison; 429 public functionaries; 10,450 clerks; 446 individuals connected with the law; 1,139 at the Institute and the University; 47,000 students; and 80,000 domestics. This population says a French paper, pays annually upon property and industry, in contributions foncières, 10,404,000f.; personelle, 6,230,000f.; doors and windows, 1,942,000f.; patentes. (licenses) 4,626,000f.; contributions indirectes, 10,000,000f.; expenses of justice, contracts of sale, registries, rights of succession, mortgages, fines, &c. 11,200,000f.; upon building materials, 1,300,000f.; upon journals, cards, public-carriages and passports, 2,000,000f.; lotteries, 25,000,000f.; total, 76,702,000f. to which may be added 22,100,000f. for excise (octroi) duties on articles entering Paris; 6,515,000f, duties on

provisions sold in the markets; and 7,772,600f. the amount produced by the farming of the gaming tables; making a total of 112,043,600f. and to this must be added the customs' duties upon articles of consumption from abroad making a total of public and municipal taxes on the inhabitants of Paris amounting to 165f. per head. From 1817 to 1827, the population of Paris increased 176,463, or about 25 per cent. The increase in the number of houses during the same period was 2,671, being about 10 per cent. The average number of inhabitants to each house in 1817 was 26-6; in 1827 it was 3000

21

LONG BEARDS.

The longest beards recorded in history, was that of John Mayo, painter to the emperor Charles V. Though he was a tall man, it is said that his beard was of such a length, that he could tread upon it. He was very vain of his beard, and usually fastened it with a ribbon to his button-hole; and sometimes he would untie it by command of the emperor, who took a great pleasure in seeing the wind blow it in the faces of his courtiers.

Poet's Corner.

[blocks in formation]

I stood beneath the elm-tree's shade,
Which there the village well did screen,
And gazed on two fair girls that played
At eve, upon the green.

Gladness was in each uttered word,

Beauty was in each glowing face; And flowers with gentlest breezes stirred, Might speak their mutual grace. Around their brows, undimmed with care, Where grief had shed no gloom, Were braided in their flowing hair Spring's loveliest buds and bloom. There played they, till the sun's last ray Was shed on clouds that rest Around the radiant close of day,

Dim fading from the west;

Then to their little cottage home
The merry playmates hied,
To fill with mirth the simple dome,
Their parents' heart with pride.
Another spring I stood upon

That well-remembered scene,
And traced where, in the seasons gone,
The hand of change had been.

The elm whose boughs the well o'erhung,
Had felt the woodman's wrath,
And the green grass and brambles sprung,
And filled the untrodden path..

And the small cottage by the green,

With woodbines at its door, Where signs of happy life are seen, Sent up its smoke no more. Upon its hearth, so lately gay, Cheerless the sunbeam falls'; Whilst Robin trills a pensive lay On its forsaken walls.

I strayed the village tombs among,

And marked a stone that told
There slept the beautiful and young--

And there were laid the old.

They four who in that cottage dwelt
Did there in death unite;
They, who the frosts of age had felt-
And beauty's early blight.

And as I stood all silent there,

And inly mourn'd their doom,

I thought upon their flower-wreath'd hair; Now flowers grow on their tomb.

THE GRAVE OF THE OCEAN WARRIOR..

BY V. V. ELLIS.

Lit by the setting sun's red beams
Proud rolls the emerald deep,
The sky a throne of glory seems,

And the winds are hushed to sleep.
White-winged, upon the water's dark,
A glorious thing and free,

How bravely stands yon bannered bark,
Like a spirit of the sea!

But death is there, and manly grief,
Silent and deep, for one,

Whose brilliant course was all too brief,
And his day too quickly done.
The fairest buds which spring gives birth,
Bloom but to live a day;

And the noblest spirits of the earth
Are the first to pass away.

Not in the glorious hour of flight,
Death round, and victory nigh,

Where hearts beat quick, and eyes flash bright,
Was it his proud boon to die.
Not on the wave, nor in the storm,
The dark destroyer came;

But when sharp pains had bent his form,
And disease unnerved his frame.

Proud were his features; and they wear
Even now, life's breathing hue;
His was a noble soul to dare,
And a manly arm to do.

In beauty's mould his form was cast,
Fire lit his eagle eye;

But the glory and the gloom are past,
And the last sad rite is nigh!
No sign of outward pomp is shown,
No hasty prayer is said;
The inward spirit breathes alone,
The requiem of the dead.
Around his bier, with tearless eyes,
The hardy veterans crowd;

One look, one sigh for the brave, who lies
Cold in his simple shroud.

The agony is past. Far down
The sea's unfathomed deep, -

With many a true and valiant one,

[ocr errors]

He sleeps his dreamless sleep. But long for him, who in the leaf,

Of his young years is dead,

Shall many a heart be filled with grief, And many a tear be shed.

HOW OFT AT MIDNIGHT O'ER
THE BOWL.

How oft at midnight o'er the bowl

That sheds its joys on heart and brain, The madd'ning thought comes o'er my soul, That we may never meet again.

Where art thou now--
--where art thou now?
Far o'er the dark blue sea;

Wild ocean bounds beneath the prow,
That bears thy form from me.

Time calms each breast o'er which it flies,
But brings no peace to mine; i
'Mid other hopes, and other eyes,
I still remember thine.
Wilt thou, 'mid gayest revelry,
Bethink thee of thy vow,
And give to one a single sigh,
Who weeps for thine and thou.

CHANCE.

DAVIES.

""Tis priestcraft all," the impious atheist cries,

"The world was made by chance—the Bible lies!"

'Tis useless such assertions to repel;
But what if chance has also made a hell?

W.

Published by J. ROBINS, Bride Court, Fleet Street, where all communications (post paid) are requested to be addressed; and sold by J. DUNCOMBE, 19, Little Queen Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields; SHERWOOD AND Co. Paternoster Row; SUTHERLAND, Edinburgh; MAC PHUN, Glasgow; and all Booksellers and Newsmen.

OF AMUSEMENT AND INSTRUCTION,

IN

HISTORY, SCIENCE, LITERATURE, THE FINE ARTS, &c.

[merged small][merged small][merged small][graphic]

:

THE OLD JEWESS OF PALERMO,

A Sicilian Romance, from the French of Florian.

observe every day events which demonstrate the truth of magic. For instance:-two lovers, whom absence, persecution, and obstacles of every kind only render more firm in constancy, finally attain felicity; and then those hearts become disunited which vowed eternal fidelity;

Since philosophy has become the rage in France, and every thing is sifted through the meshes of reasoning, magic has fallen much into disrepute witchcraft, incantations, and all the train of enchantments, formerly so respected in the eyes of our ancestors, diminish in importance: the Bohemians, those sagaci- Is not this the effect of enchantous divers into futurity, are despised ment? A disconsolate widow, ready -fortunes told on cards questioned: to expire with grief on her husband's our moderns, with equal temerity, tomb, requiring all the soothing even laugh at those more skilful energies of friends to retain her reastill, who read fate in the white of son, suddenly, at sight of a handsome an egg, or in the grounds of coffee; young man, feels that tempestuous I am not so incredulous Without tide of sorrow ebbed and cleared bringing forward a number of facts away. When she places in bis attested by many witnesses, I myself hands the cash, which he esteems

[blocks in formation]

much, and her happiness, which he values little, is it not evident that magic here is busy also? Yes, undoubtedly; and a hundred such evidences would arise in proof of my assertions. Do not Spain, Italy, and Sicily, still preserve a tribunal to watch over sorcerers and magicians; an additional proof that their art is not so chimerical as some would fain imagine it. As a further demonstration, I shall offer the following anecdote, a fact obtained from actual eye-witnesses.

[ocr errors]

Rosalba, sole heiress of a noble and illustrious family, was born at Palermo. Fortune did much for her nature still more. Beauty, grace, gentleness, and intelligence, rendered her a father's idol. The most costly education, the best selected masters, developed these precious gifts of Providence. At fourteen Rosalba eclipsed all other Sicilian belles. She spoke and understood the languages of Racine, of Pope, of Cervantes, and even a little of Gessner. She wrote verses; she sang the airs of Leo in accents more delightful than those of the famous Faustine; and when they were accompinied by her harp, cardinals and prelates (excellent judges of music) agreed that the angels themselves could not surpass Rosalba.

r

To these diversified talents--these numerous attractions, she added one hundred thousand ducats per annum. We may well believe that such an heiress was sought by the first nobles in Sicily. The old Compte de Scanzano, her father, wise enough to perceive that the most splendid alliances are not always the happiest, placed no value on the wealth or titles of those who demanded his daughter - he left her absolute mistress of her own inclinations.

Rosalba was scarce seventeen, yet her heart possessed all the strong emotions of a Sicilian, and the young Duke de Castellamare had already

known how to call them forth. His personal attractions surpassed those of all the other noblesse; but wild and impetuous, his being left at an early age uncontrolled master of himself and immense riches, could alone excuse a life of juvenile dissipation. Rosalba's will was, notwithstanding, a law to her father, and the marriage was concluded accordingly. The youthful Duchess appeared at court, and formed its brightest ornament. Her charms were the general subject of conversation, every one envied the Duke. The happy Rosalba saw in the future but an uninterrupted career of felicity, yet six months had scarce flown till her husband, drawn away by dangerous society, gradually returned to those pursuits which his marriage had only interrupted.

Rosalba needed not to be informed by those officious persons who take pleasure in disclosing misfortunes. She loved, and painfully observed the change in Castellamare. Yet her sorrows were concealed

from every eye, from her father especially, whose tenderness would have sunk beneath the anguish of such a blow. Feigning, while in his presence a happiness far from her heart,-smiling, while tears suffocated her respiration, she excused the frequent absences of the Duke when the old Compte complained of them. She sought to find motives for their continuance; and invented pretexts for total solitude in the state of her health, which was visibly declining. The anxious father, on his part, now concealed alarms and inquietudes; and each, mutually fearing to distress the other, permitted themselves to be deceived through the delicate sensibilities of a feeling heart.

Rosalba had one confidential domestic, named Laura. Better informed than her mistress of the infidelities of the Duke, and despairing of ever seeing him restored to his

duties, she endeavoured to weaken the passion of his devoted wife, and exhorted her to live for herself, for her father, and for the soothing consolations of friendship.

Rosalba

could not; her heart was still enslaved by a dear, though guilty, spouse. She even endeavoured to attribute to herself the change in his affections; she reproached herself with believing that it only sufficed to love in order to please, and with having neglected, since her marriage, those talents and agremens, which she esteemed little, but which seduce -which flatter the vanity of a hus band, and which have sometimes even more power over the other sex than solid virtues. She dressed to greater advantage, she heightened her beauty by every innocent attraction, she had recourse to her forgotten harp, and drew tears from her father's eyes, while breathing in plaintive accents those tender verses where Armida recalls Rinaldo. Alas! her efforts were vain; her gentleness, her patience, her tender cares made no impression on the heart of Castellamare: his days and nights were passed abroad, and Rosalba, reduced to despair, seemed likely to find that repose in death for which she now sighed so bitterly.

citizens pretend to laugh at her prodigious undertakings, and even to doubt their success, but for myself I believe it well; one cannot question what their own senses have

witnessed sufficiently. You may probably recollect, my dear lady, the young Lisbette, for whom you expressed an interest last winter. Her good conduct was as remarkable as her beauty, which my sister, with whom she lodged, has frequently observed to me. A young nobleman made dishonourable proposals, Lisbette indignantly rejected them, returned his letters unopened, and shunned every opportunity of an interview. The nobleman, in despair, resorted to the Old Jewess, related the circumstances, and offered a large sum for the accomplishment of his pursuit. The sorceress placed in his hands a green taper, which she desired him to light each time he wished to behold the unfortunate Lisbette. Poor girl! since that luckless day she has repaired every evening to her lover. My sister, on discovering this, loaded her with reproaches; but the devoted victim of witchcraft disarmed her resentment by declaring, that sleep overwhelmed her at an unusually early hour, when, impelled by supernatural force, she arose, dressed, and, without any voluntary act, hastened to the house of the young nobleman, whom she detested. There (she added) is a green taper, which burns a certain time, and presently extinguishes itself with a tremendous noise. Then my senses are restored; I appear to wake out of a frightful dream, and 1 return home drowned in tears. You may judge, my dear mistress, by this anecdote, which is, alas! but too well authenticated, of the powerful force of this woman's enchantments. Why not then consult her? If you wish to be incognito, make use efficacious nito, make use of my apparel; and if you fear to go alone, I shall willingly accompany you."

The faithful Laura grieved at beholding her mistress's afflictions. "Beloved Lady," said she to her one day, "since it is not in your power to control the force of those feelings which are undermining your existence-since you have exhausted every effort of which love and virtue are capable, in order to regain the affections of an unworthy object, let us, rather than see you expire, have recourse to some measure extraordinary. I know an old Jewess, established at Palermo for two years past, highly celebrated for witchcraft, especially the efficacious charms which she composes in cases similar to yours. Some of our wise

« PreviousContinue »