The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 13, No. 363, March 28, 1829

WAR

War! what miseries are heaped together in the sound!–What an accumulation of curses is breathed in that one word. To us, happy in our insular position, we have, within existing memory, known chiefly of war, its pomp and circumstance alone; the gay parade, the glancing arms, the bright colours, the inspiring music—these are what we see of war in its outset;—glory, and praise, and badges of honour, these are what appear to us as its result. The favourite son, the beloved brother, he who, perhaps, is dearer still, returns to the home of his youth or of his heart, having sown danger and reaped renown. Thus do we look on war. But ask the inhabitant of a country which has been the seat of war, what is his opinion of it. He will tell you that he has seen his country ravaged, his home violated, his family – But no! the tongue recoils from speaking the horrors and atrocities of war thus brought into the bosom of a peaceful home. All the amenities and charities of domestic life are outraged, are annihilated. All that is dearest to man; all that tends to refine, to soften him—to make him a noble and a better being—all these are trampled under foot by a brutal soldiery—all these are torn from his heart for ever! He will tell you that he detests war so much that he almost despises its glories; and that he detests it because he has known its evils, and felt how poorly and miserably they are compensated by the fame which is given to the slaughterer and the destroyer, because he is such!

Tales of Passion.

THE NEWSPAPERS

These square pieces of paper are the Agoras of modern life. The same skilful division of labour which brings the fowl ready trussed to our doors from the market, brings also an abstract of the

 
Votum, timor, ira, voluptas,
Gaudia, discursus,
 

which agitate the great metropolis, and even opinions, ready prepared, to the breakfast tables of our remotest farms, ere the controversial warmth has had time to cool. In the centre of this square, where you observe the larger character, a public orator, "vias et verba locans," takes his daily stand. One makes his speech in the morning, and another reserves his for the evening; a third class, either disposed to take less trouble, or, finding it convenient to construct their speeches from fragments of the daily orations, harangue once in two or three days; while a fourth waylay the people in their road to visit the temples on our hebdomadal festivals. But cast your eyes to another part of these our artificial forums, and observe the number of small divisions which fill up the space. There are stalls of merchandize. The ancient venders must have been noisy, and a frequent cause of annoyance to political speakers; but here the hawkers of wet and dry goods, the hawkers of medicine, the hawkers of personal services, the hawkers of husbands and wives, (for among us these articles are often cried up for sale,) and lastly, the hawkers of religions, moral, and political wisdom, all cry out at once, without tumult or confusion, yet so as to be heard in these days through the remotest corners of these islands.... If a peculiarly bloody murder has been tried, or if some domestic intrigue has produced a complicated love story, however offensive in its details, you will find our reading crowd stationary in that quarter, to enjoy the tragic stimulants of terror and pity. We have also a modest corner of the square appropriated to the use of our posts; but like Polydorus's ghost, they generally utter doleful soliloquies, which no one will stop to hear.

London Review.

BEAUTY

It is vain to dispute about the matter; moralists may moralize, preachers may sermonize about it as much as they please; still beauty is a most delightful thing,—and a really lovely woman a most enchanting object to gaze on. I am aware of all that can be said about roses fading, and cheeks withering, and lips growing thin and pale. No one, indeed, need be ignorant of every change which can be rung upon this peal of bells, for every one must have heard them in every possible, and impossible, variety of combination. Give time, and complexion will decay, and lips and cheeks will shrink and grow wrinkled, sure enough. But it is needless to anticipate the work of years, or to give credit to old Time for his conquests before he has won them. The edge of his scythe does more execution than that of the conqueror's sword: we need not add the work of fancy to his,—it is more than sufficiently sure and rapid already.

Tales of Passion.

PRE-AUX-CLERCS

In 1559, the most frequented promenade in Paris was the Pré-aux-Clercs, situated where a part of the Faubourg St. Germain is at present. The students of the university were generally in favour of the reformed religion, and not only made a profession of it, but publicly defended its principles. They had been in the habit of meeting at this place for several years, and the monks of the Abbey St. Victor having refused to let them assemble in the Pré-aux-Clercs, a serious affair sprung out of the refusal, and several rencounters took place, in which blood was shed; the students, being the most numerous, carried their point, the monks resigned the field to them, and the Pré-aux-Clercs was more than ever frequented. It became the grand rendezvous of all the Protestants, who would sing Marot's psalms during the summer evenings; and such numbers giving confidence, many persons declared themselves Protestants, whose rank had hitherto deterred them from such a step. Among such, the most eminent was Anthony of Bourbon, first prince of the blood, and, in right of his wife, king of Navarre.

Browning's History of the Hugonots.

LOVE

When she learned the vocabulary, she did not find that admiration meant love; she did not find that gratitude meant love; she did not find that habit meant love; she did not find that approbation meant love; but in process of time she began to suspect that all these put together produced a feeling very much like love.

Rank and Talent.

HUGONOTS

Various definitions of this epithet exist. Pasquier says it arose from their assembling at Hugon's Tower, at Tours; he also mentions, that in 1540 he heard them called Tourangeaux. Some have attributed the term to the commencement of their petitions, "Huc nos venimus." A more probable reason is to be found in the name of a party at Geneva, called Eignots, a term derived from the German, and signifying a sworn confederate. Voltaire and the Jesuit Maimbourg are both of this opinion.

Browning's History of the Hugonots.

A ROUT

A great, large, noisy, tumultuous, promiscuous, crowding, crushing, perfumed, feathered, flowered, painted, gabbling, sneering, idle, gossiping, rest-breaking, horse-killing, panel-breaking, supper-scrambling evening-party is much better imagined than described, for the description is not worth the time of writing or reading it.

Rank and Talent.

PLEASURE

 
We are mad gamesters in this world below,
All hopes on one uncertain die to throw;
How vain is man's pursuit, with passion blind,
To follow that which leaves us still behind!
Go! clasp the shadow, make it all thine own,
Place on the flying breeze thine airy throne;
Weave the thin sunbeams of the morning sky;
Catch the light April clouds before they fly;
Chase the bright sun unto the fading west,
And wake him early from his golden rest;
Seeking th' impossible, let life be past,
But never dream of pleasure that shall last.
 

The Ruined City.

GERMAN LIFE

One day (says a late adventurer,) that I was quartered in a farm-house, along with some of our German dragoons, the owner came to complain to me that the soldiers had been killing his fowls, and pointed out one man in particular as the principal offender. The fact being brought home to the dragoon, he excused himself by saying, "One shiken come frighten my horse, and I give him one kick, and he die." "Oh, but," said I, "the patron contends that you killed more than one fowl." "Oh yes; that shiken moder see me kick that shiken, so she come fly in my face, and I give her one kick, and she die." Of course I reported the culprit to his officer, by whom he was punished as a notorious offender.

Twelve Years' Military Adventures.

THE HEIR

Persons who are very rich, and have no legal heirs, may entertain themselves very much at the expense of hungry expectants and lean legacy-hunters. Who has not seen a poor dog standing on his hind legs, and bobbing up and down after a bone scarcely worth picking, with which some mischief-loving varlet has tantalized the poor animal till all its limbs have ached? That poor dog shadows out the legacy-hunter or possible heir.

Rank and Talent.

The author of "The Journal of a Naturalist," just published, relates the following incident that occurred a few years past at a lime-kiln, (on the old Bristol Road) because it manifests how perfectly insensible the human frame may be to pains and afflictions in peculiar circumstances; and that which would be torture if endured in general, may be experienced at other times without any sense of suffering. A travelling man one winter's evening laid himself down upon the platform of a lime-kiln, placing his feet, probably numbed with cold, upon the heap of stones newly put on to burn through the night. Sleep overcame him in this situation; the fire gradually rising and increasing until it ignited the stones upon which his feet were placed. Lulled by the warmth, he still slept; and though the fire increased until it burned one foot (which probably was extended over a vent hole) and part of the leg, above the ankle, entirely off, consuming that part so effectually, that no fragment of it was ever discovered; the wretched being slept on! and in this state was found by the kiln-man in the morning. Insensible to any pain, and ignorant of his misfortune, he attempted to rise and pursue his journey, but missing his shoe, requested to have it found; and when he was raised, putting his burnt limb to the ground to support his body, the extremity of his leg-bone, the tibia, crumbled into fragments, having been calcined into lime. Still he expressed no sense of pain, and probably experienced none, from the gradual operation of the fire and his own torpidity during the hours his foot was consuming. This poor drover survived his misfortunes in the hospital about a fortnight; but the fire having extended to other parts of his body, recovery was hopeless.