Εικόνες σελίδας
PDF
Ηλεκτρ. έκδοση

give it a good dressing with chalk, which he dug from under it, by which means he made the farm (for the whole term of his lease) and his own fortune. His successor, who attempted to follow his example, was unsuccessful; and experimental dressings, on small patches of the farm, have been frequently had recourse to, but they appear to do but little if any good. The chalk, however, has not destroyed the susceptibility of the land to dung or composts, nor even to lime, as it now produces excellent crops. There is no description of land on which a first dressing of chalk has been placed but has received benefit

from it.

THE SHEEP ROT.

Symptoms aud Progress of the Rot in Sheep, from the Observations of an intelligent Flock Master, in a Western County.

The first stage of the rot in sheep may be known by the animal's fre

quent habit of rubbing the under lip

against the fold; also of drinking a greater quantity of water than those that are sound, and showing a dispo.

sition rather to lick off the moisture

from, than to crop the grass. In the second stage the lips, nostrils, and throat become swoln: the animal is feverish, insatiably thirsty, and almost incessantly visited by a sort of dry cough. In the third and last stage, the eyes become sunken; the eye veins small, discoloured, and nearly bloodless; the eye-balls livid and dim, with whites exceedingly pale; the burrs of the ears swoln and free from wax; the liver, lights, and throat ulcerated; and the passage of respiration being stopped, the animal is suffocated. I was led to this experience, says our correspondent, when very young in business, by an old shepherd, who had been more than forty years on the farm. Pointing to a sheep that was rubbing its lip against the fold, and acting in the manner before described-" that sheep, master," said he, "is touched with the rot! the best thing I can recommend to do with him is, to take him before he is too far gone, and give him some ground oats and make him fairish meat and kill him." I did so, as sheep will thrive on oats for some time after they are first affected. When the sheep was opened, I discovered that its liver was full of things resem

bling plaice, and its lights just beginning to become ulcerated. The next sheep I found in the first stage, as before mentioned-I suffered it, by way of experiment, to take its chance, and it died by suffocation in the third stage in the manner already described, which was the result of at least a dozen experiments.-Lewes Journal.

SONG OF THE MAIDENS. "Ye ladies all of England, Now wring your hands and mourn, For many a lord and lover

Will fall at Bannockburn; To win their spurs of silver

Go all your gallant grooms, I see the gloves of ladye-loves

Dance mid their dancing plumes. Weep all ye dames of England,

Your mirth has lasted long; Now in your looks be sadness,

And sorrow in your song.

"And why should we have sadness, And wherefore should we sigh?

Saint George for merry England!

I hear our horsemen cry;
And see their war plumes waving,
Black as the raven's wings;
Our fatal shafts are flying,

Hark to the thrilling strings:
And see King Edward's standard

Floats on the buxom breeze

Now all is merry England's

That's girdled by the seas.

"Here comes your lordly chivalry

All charging in a row,
And there your gallant bowmen

Let fly their shafts like snow;
Look how yon old man clasps his hands,
And hearken to his cry;
Alas, alas, for Scotland,

When England's arrows fly! Yet weep ye dames of England,

For twenty summers past
Yedanc'd and sung whileScotland wept;
Such mirth can never last.

"And how can I do less than laugh,
When England's lords are nigh;
It is the maids of Scotland

Must learn to wail and sigh-
For here spurs princely Hereford,
Hark to his clashing steel;
And there Sir Philip Musgrave,

All gore from helm to heel;
And yonder is stout Argentine,

And here comes with a sweep The fiery speed of GloucesterSay wherefore should I weep?

"Weep all ye English maidens,
Lo! Bannock brook's in flood,
Not with its own sweet waters,
But England's noblest blood.
For see your arrow-shower has ceased,
The thrilling bowstring's mute,
And where rides fiery Gloucester ?
All trodden underfoot.
Wail all ye dames of England,

No more shall Musgrave know
The sound of the shrill trumpet-
And Argentine is low.
"Thy chivalry, proud England,
Have turn'd the rein to fly,
And on them rushes Randolph,
Hark Edward Bruce's cry;

'Mid reeking blood the Douglas rides,
As one rides in a river,
And here the good king Robert comes,
And Scotland's free for ever.
Now weep ye dames of England,
And let your sons prolong
The Bruce the Bruce of Bannockburn,
In many a sorrowing song.

PARLIAMENT.

C.

[blocks in formation]

The Parliament is the highest, chiefest and greatest Court, that is or can be within the realm; for it consisteth of the whole realm, which is divided into three estates; that is, to wit: the King, the Nobles, and the Commons; every one of which estates is subject to all such orders as are concluded and established in Parliament. These three estates may jointly, and with one consent or agreement, establish and enact any laws, orders, or statutes for the commonwealth; but being divided, and one swerving from the other, they can do nothing; for the King, though he be the head, yet alone cannot make any law; nor yet the King and his Lords only; nor yet the King and his Commons alone; neither can the Lords and the Commons without the King, do eny thing of avail. And yet, nevertheless, if the king, in due order, have summoned all his Lords and Barons, and they will not come, or if they come, they will not appear, or if they come and appear, yet will not do or yield to any thing, then the King, with the consent of his Commons (who are represented by his

knights, citizens, and burgesses), may ordain and establish any act or law, which is as good, sufficient, and effectual, as if the Lords had given their consent.

But on the contrary, if the Commons be summoned, and will not come, or coming will not appear, or appearing, will not consent to do any thing, alledging some just, weighty, and great cause, the King (in these cases) cannot with his Lords devise, make, or establish any law; the reasons are these: when Parliaments were first begun and ordained, there were no Prelates or Barons of the Parliament, and the Temporal Lords were very few or none, and then the King and his Commons did make a full Parliament, which authority was never hitherto abridged. Again, every Baron in Parliament doth represent but his own person, and speaketh on behalf of himself alone.

But in the knights, citizens, and burgesses, are represented the Commons of the whole realm: and every of these giveth, not consent only for himself, but for all those also for whom he is sent. And the King, with the consent of his Commons, had ever a sufficient and full authority to make, ordain, and establish good and wholesome laws for the commonwealth of this realm. Wherefore the Lords, being lawfully summoned, and yet refusing to come, sit, or consent in Parliament, cannot by their folly abridge the King and the Commons of the lawful proceedings in Parliament.

The Lords and Commons, în time past, did sit all in one house; but, for the avoiding of confusion, they be now divided into two several houses, and yet, nevertheless, they are of like and equal authority, every person of either of the said houses being named and counted a Peer of the realm (for the time of the Parliament) that is to say, equal-for par is equal. And therefore, the opinion, censure, and judgment of a mean burgess, is of as great avail, as is the best Lord's, no regard being had to the party who speaketh, but the matter that is spoken.

They be also called Peers, as it were father; for pere is a father; by which is meant, that all such as be of the Parliament, should be ancient, grave, wise, learned, and expert men of the land: for such were the senators of Rome, and called patres conscripti (conscript fathers); for the wisdom and

care that was in them in governing the commonwealth. They are also called Counsellors, because they are assembled and called to the Parliament for their advice and good counsel, in making and devising all such good orders and laws, as may be for the commonwealth.

They, therefore, which make choice of knights, citizens, and burgesses, ought to be well advised that they do elect and choose such as, being to be of that assembly, and thereby equal with the great estates, should be grave, ancient, well-learned, expert and careful men for their commonwealth, and who (as faithful and trusty counsellors), should do that which should turn and be for the best commodity of the commonwealth; otherwise they do great injury to their Prince and the Commonwealth.

Also, every person of the Parliament, during the times of the Parliament, and at his coming and going from the same, is free from all troubles, arrests, and molestations; no action or suit taking effect, which, during that time is begun, entered, or commenced against him, in what Court soever the same be, except in cases of treason, murder, and felony, and except all executions in law, awarded and granted before the beginning of Parliament.

Also, every person, having voices in Parliament, hath free liberty of speech to speak his mind, opinion, and judgment, to any matter proposed, or of himself to propose any matter for the commodity of the Prince and of the Commonwealth; but having once spoken to any Bill, he may speak no more for that time.

Also, every person once elected and chosen a knight, citizen, or burgess, and returned, cannot be dismissed out of that house; but being admitted, shall have his place and voice there, if he be a layman. But if by error a man of the Clergy is chosen, then he ought and shall be dismissed; also, if he be excommunicated, outlawed, or infamous.

[To be continued.]

A HINT TO HYPOCHONDRIACS. Mr. H- is a man of easy fortune, and has some places under government; but he frequently obtains leave of absence from office, on account of

his imaginary ill state of health. There is not a disorder incident to human nature that he is not at times afflicted with; but the truth is, his only complaint is the hypochondria. His doctor and apothecary reap more benefit from his fortune and emoluments, than his poulterer, butcher, and fishmonger. He had, in the course of one month, fourteen different disorders that were all cured with the same medicine.

This gentleman was some time since at a coffee-house near St. James's, when a certain wag, well known for his wit and pleasantry, coming up to him, said, "My dear H, I am very glad to see you; but heavens! how ill you look!" H terrified at this information, flew to the lookingglass, and turning pale at seeing himself, was ready to swoon. His friend took him aside, and conducting him into a private room, advised him by all means to be immediately blooded. This terrified him more than the former intimation, as bleeding was an operation he never could persuade himself to submit to. However, a surgeon being present, he was compelled.

Being seated in a chair, he was held down, whilst the surgeon turned up his shirt sleeve, he leaning his head aside, to avoid the tragic sight of seeing his own blood:-when lo! a glass of wine being at hand, and a toothpick, the operation was performed with these implements, without the assistance of a lancet, or the least real blood shed. H -, nevertheless, fainted, and it was not without the assistance of hartshorn and water that he recovered.

The next morning his disorder greatly preyed on his mind. He sent for his own physician, and communicated to him what he thought had really happened; adding, he very well knew the real sources of his complaint. The doctor was very desirous of being acquainted with it, that he might radically remove it. "Why then," said H-, "about a twelvemonth ago, I was so imprudent as to go into the company of a woman of the town, and I know how it has been ever since. Then whispering, lest the servants should overhear, concluded in rather a louder tone, "Confirmed, Sir, I say confirmed." The doctor wrapt up a smile in a look of astonishment, and endeavoured to dissuade him from his error, as he had not the least symptom

of the disorder he mentioned about
him;
but it was all in vain, H-
began to grow warm, and the doctor,
fearful of losing so good a friend, pre-
scribed for him as if he had really the
complaint. Six weeks having expired,
under evacuations of various kinds, he
now thought himself radically cured.
His juices were, indeed, almost dried
up, and he was reduced nearly to a
skeleton; so that it was impossible any
bad humours could remain in the mass
of his blood.

In this condition he ushered forth, to exhibit a new man-no, a mere existence, when George S-1-n meeting with him, scarce knowing him till he spoke, was really astonished at the alteration, and did not attempt another joke, as he had formerly done at the St. James's coffee-house; but candidly and seriously advised him to take a trip with him to his villa, to recover himself. H was prevailed upon, conditionally, that he should live and do as he liked, with regard to hours, and every thing else. The rustic treaty was ratified, and they set off that very day.

George really wished him well, and was desirous of curing him of his phrenzy; but he could not do it with out a joke, for two reasons; first, because it was his natural propension; and secondly, because the discovery would operate the more forcibly when produced in this manner. Hwent to bed early, and was attended by a servant to undress him, who had received instructions to bring away his waistcoat, which had been taken in for temporary accommodation, in expectation of hereafter filling it in its extent once more. The waistcoat was let out before the time, and when in the morning (being restored to its place) Hfound it large enough to hold two of him in his present incorporate state; the discovery terrified him almost to death. He rang the bell with the greatest precipitation, and if assistance had not come in time, he would certainly have fallen a victim to a new disorder, not mentioned in the whole materia medica, and quite the opposite to the straight waistcoat.

George S-n ran up, and fearful of the consequences, was obliged to disclose to H- the imposition that had been put upon him; but it was with much difficulty that the wit could gain credit. However, at length, with

copious libations of water and hartshorn, H- recovered.

S

now very frankly informed him of the imposition at the coffee. house, the deception of his doctor, in administering medicines for a disorder that he never was afflicted with, and which had brought him to death's door, and then apologized for the last deceit, as the only means, in his opinion, to bring H- back to reason and common sense, and dissipate those black clouds of melancholy, that had brought on him more disorders, than are to be found in the weekly bills of mortality.

CRUELTY OF SOLYMAN THE
SECOND.

Few princes had more success in war than Solyman the Second, nor did ever monster make a more barbarous use of it; among numberless instances. In Hungary he murdered the garrison of Buda, after having accepted their capitulation. In Austria, women were first ravished before their husband's faces, then murdered with their children.

Infants were ripped from the womb; others, seized from the breasts of their mothers, were cut in pieces before their eyes, and thrust upon pointed spears or stakes. At another time he killed in cold blood 4,000 prisoners, when retreating from an unsuccessful campaign.

He caused to be strangled his son Mustapha, on suspicions which he afterwards found were erroneous, and put to death another son named Bajazet, with four of his children. He was proclaimed Emperor in the same year that Charles the Fifth was crowned in Germany; and died to the joy of the world, 4th Sept. 1566.

ODD CUSTOM.

The Turks are partial to carrying in their right hand a string of beads they call Tespee, with which they, in conversation, or at other times, amuse themselves by passing it with the thumb over the fore finger. It is an object of such importance, that emeralds and pearls of great value, are sometimes substituted for the more common beads of ivory, ebony, or amber; but it is not, as some authors have imagined, connected with their religious ceremonies; at least not by obligation.

BATAVIAN ANTHOLOGY. The English reader will, no doubt, be grateful to Messrs. Bowring and Van Dyk for their labours in the above; particularly as it affords them a comparative view of what was little known in this country, the progress of their Dutch neighbours have made towards the summit of Parnassus. We give the following extract:

AN AMATORY POEM.

FROM BROEKHUIZEN.

When e'er thy mouth is prest to mine,

And when my heart upon thy breast reposes, Whene'er I pluck the fragrant roses That hang in fondness round those lips of thine, It brings, dear girl, no grief to me, To think I give up liberty to thee.

up the contest, delivered of her second son to whom the name of NAPOLEON was given. They who believe in the great influence which the situation of the mother, during pregnancy, has upon the offspring, will perhaps attribute the active and enterprising spirit of the son to the restless life led at this period by the mother. The late Pope, Pius the Seventh, was excessively struck with the circumstance, when it was relatad to him in the year 1801 by the French ambassador, and thought it extremely curious and remarkable.

This also occasioned Madame Buonaparte to be likened, at the time, by her friends, to Latona, the mother of

Then, then my soul floats on a stream of Apollo ond Diana; by which appella

blisses,

Till it has won

The gentle kisses That it lives upon.

gaze,

But when on those bright orbs I Those orbs whose lustre o'er my spirit glances

And blissfully my heart entrances With the divine effulgence of their rays;

Then mourn my lips, then mourn my eyes,
And each complain o' the other's luxuries.
My lips are envious of the eye's sweet pleasure,
And the eye would sip
Ambrosial treasure

Like the luscions lip.
Then think, Clorinda, what distress,
What grief my tender heart would visit,
If e'er another should solicit

The charms which I alone would fain possess!

Whene'er we sport in dalliance sweet, My eyes will scarce allow our lips to meet. My lips are angry when the eye in glory Looks from its throne,

Aud tells a story

Sweeter than their own.

[blocks in formation]

When the Corsicans took up arms in 1767, to resist the subjugation of their country to the yoke of France, Carolo Buonaparte, the father of Napoleon, quitted the gown for the sword; and under the standard of the patriot General Paoli, who was godfather to his eldest son Josesh, fought bravely, though unsuccessfully, for the liberties of his country.

Whilst the struggle continued, Madame Buonaparte, the wife of Carolo, was constantly flying from town to town, and from village to village, to avoid the French, dreading nothing so much as falling into their hands. After repeated changes of place, during the whole time of her pregnancy, she was, on the 15th of August 1769, two months after the Corsicans had given

tion she continued to be known until a gentleman brought with him from England, as a present for her, a print from Mr. West's picture of Cornelia, the mother of the Gracchi, showing her children as jewels. This latter circumstance, united with the ardour shewn by the young Buonaparte's, for emancipation of their country from the yoke of the old French despotism, occasioned her former name of Latona to be changed to that of the Mother of the Gracchi.

It has been said that the name of Napoleon was given to the new-born infant of Madame Buonaparte, according to a common custom among the Catholics; viz. that of naming the child after the saint on whose festival it was baptized; and that the 16th of baptism, was the festival of Saint August, the day of young Buonaparte's Napoleon, a saint then peculiar to Corsica.

[blocks in formation]

THE ISLE OF DOGS.

The Isle of Dogs, opposite Greenwich, is said to have received its name in consequence of a man murdering a person who had a dog with him, who would not leave his dead master until hunger constrained him to swim over to Greenwich. This being frequently repeated, was observed by the watermen plying there, who followed the dog and discovered the body. Some time after, the said dog, going through Greenwich, stopped and snarled at a waterman who sat there, and would not quit him; in consequence of which

« ΠροηγούμενηΣυνέχεια »