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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77008 ***





                           THE PENNY MAGAZINE

                                 OF THE

             Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

 24.]                   PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY.      [August 18, 1832

------------------------------------------------------------------------


                            CONSTANTINOPLE.

          [Illustration: View of Constantinople from Galata.]

This magnificent city, which, won from the degenerate Greeks of the
lower empire, has been for four centuries the capital of the Turkish
empire, is situated in 41° 1′ 27″ north latitude, and in 26° 35′ of east
longitude.

The ground it occupies is marked out by nature as the site of a great
city. A gently declining promontory, secured by narrow seas, at the east
of Europe, stretches out to meet the continent of Asia, from which its
extreme point is separated by so narrow a strait that in a quarter of an
hour a boat can row from one continent to the other. This strait or
channel, which is called the Bosphorus, running about fifteen miles from
the Black Sea, between the beautiful shores of Europe and Asia, looks
like a stately river, until it sweeps by the angle of Constantinople and
enters the sea of Marmora. But just before it is lost in that sea, it
makes a deep elbow to the right, flowing between the triangle of
Constantinople Proper, and its suburbs of Galata and Pera, and forming
the port which is called the Golden Horn. This is the most convenient as
well as the most beautiful harbour in the world.

A city was built here by a colony of Lacedemonians as early as the year
660 before Christ, or about a century after the foundation of Rome; but
this city only occupied the apex of the triangle, or precisely that
space now within the enclosures of the Seraglio. It was called
Byzantium. The present immense city, called Constantinopolis, or the
city of Constantine, after its founder, was built about the year 330 of
our era, by the Roman Emperor Constantine, who thought it the best place
for the capital of the world.

The triangle which the city now entirely occupies is thus washed on one
of its sides (the northern) by the deep waters of the port, and on the
other (the south-eastern) by the sea of Marmora. The base of the
triangle, or the ground immediately beyond the walls which attaches it
to the European continent, is an open elevated flat, with some trifling
inequalities of surface. The area of the triangle is occupied by gentle
hills, which are highest towards the land side, and gradually decline to
the Seraglio point, shelving off on either side to the sea of Marmora
and the port. As Rome was built on seven hills, so the Roman founders of
Constantinople called these “the seven hills,” though, in fact, if the
principal chain only were counted there would be less, and if the minor
hills or spurs were taken into the account, there would be more, than
seven. On these hills the city stands, presenting on each of the three
sides of the triangle the aspect of a stately amphitheatre. The ridge of
the first hill, departing from the acute point of the triangle, is
occupied by the Seraglio, or vast palace of the Sultan, behind which, a
little on the reverse of the hill, the dome of Santa Sophia shows
itself. The second hill is crowned by the mosque of the Osmanieh, whose
dome is strikingly bold and lofty. The still grander mosque of Soliman
the Magnificent towers on the third hill; whilst an ancient aqueduct,
whose bold arches have the happiest effect, unites the summits of the
third and fourth hills. On the very highest point of the chain there is
a lofty tower, built within these few years by the present Sultan, in
which a guard is constantly placed to watch the breaking out of fires,
which are very frequent and destructive in a city where all the private
habitations are built chiefly of wood. Few things are more calculated to
make an impression on the mind of the stranger than when an accident of
this sort occurs at the dead of night, and the immense drum is beaten at
the top of the tower, and the voice of the guard is heard shouting,
‘Vangar’ (fire).

Though there is one principal street, which, with but few interruptions,
traverses the city from the Seraglio to the inland walls, the houses of
Constantinople are not generally massed together, but interspersed with
open spaces, gardens, trees, ancient ruins, and isolated mosques,--the
tall, slim, arrowy minarets or towers of which, all kept purely white,
and tipped with a gilded crescent, contribute greatly to the beauty of
the views.

The situation of Constantinople upon hills is not only the cause of its
beauty, but of its salubrity and comparative cleanliness. It catches all
the pleasant breezes from the Bosphorus, the Marmora, and the adjoining
plains of Thrace; and the dirt that might accumulate naturally descends
the hills’ sides to the port or the open sea, in both of which it is
carried off by a strong current. To this advantage must be added the
immense number of fountains and the quantity of flowing water which is
always carrying off parts of the dirt; and the heavy rains which, when
they fall, so wash the sides of the hills, that nothing can well be
cleaner than the greater part of Constantinople at those seasons.
Indeed, at any time, the lower edge of the city that touches the port,
and the opposite suburb of Galata (the Wapping of the Turkish capital),
may be called filthy places, but the term cannot be correctly applied to
Constantinople as a whole.

Some ill-natured travellers have said that the only scavengers here are
the unowned dogs which roam about in countless thousands; but we believe
in all times there were a set of Turks employed to clean the streets,
and the present sultan has certainly a regularly organized corps for
that service.

Allowing for the empty spaces, which collectively would form a portion
by no means inconsiderable, Constantinople occupies the whole of the
natural triangle, whose outline is fringed by old walls flanked by
towers. These walls and towers on the side of the sea of Marmora and the
port, where in old times they were not required to be so strong, are now
in a very ruinous state and, in some parts, on the Golden Horn, have
entirely disappeared. But on the land side, where the defences of art
were more called for, Constantinople presents a treble line of most
formidable ancient walls which might easily be repaired; and which, in
their more dilapidated parts, offer such magnificent and picturesque
specimens of mural ruins as no other city can boast of. The length of
this latter line of wall, from the head of the port to the Seven Towers
on the sea of Marmora, is above four English miles. The form of the
triangle, as may be seen by our little plan, is somewhat irregular,
having the side from the Seven Towers to the Seraglio considerably the
longest. According to the best calculations the population contained
within these walls is about 500,000. If we add to this number, as is
usually done, the population of the suburbs of Pera and Galata, of
Scutari, which, though in Asia, is so near as to be considered a suburb,
and of the numerous villages which closely succeed each other on both
sides of the channel of the Bosphorus for several miles, we may arrive
perhaps at the number of from 700,000 to 800,000 souls, comprising
Turks, Greeks, Armenians, Jews, and Franks.

On whichever side you approach Constantinople,--whether ascending by the
Dardanelles and the sea of Marmora, or descending from the Black Sea by
the Bosphorus,--whether you arrive by crossing the plains of Thrace, or
come in sight from the opposite hills of Asia,--she presents herself
indeed like “the Queen of Cities.” The effect of the first view is
almost magical.

The preceding sketch will give some idea of the beautiful outline of
part of Constantinople. It is taken from the hill side, above Galata.
Near this point was an old Genoese tower, burned down within these three
years, from which the view of the city was of surpassing beauty.

                 [To be concluded in our next Number.]

       [Illustration: MAP OF CONSTANTINOPLE, AND ITS VICINITY.]


                         ---------------------


                       MEANINGS OF WORDS.--No. 4.


                    Nouns in _ing_ (German, _ung_).

                          Build-ing. Draw-ing.
                          Walk-ing.  See-ing.

These nouns are formed from verbs, and generally by the simple addition
of the syllable _ing_. They denote the _general act_ of doing something,
and often retain the same place in the sentence with respect to the word
following them, that the verb itself does: thus, when we say, “the
building of a house,” we express in a slightly modified manner the idea
of “to build a house.”

Some nouns in _ing_ express a collection of things, as--

                 Cloth-ing. Stabl-ing. Fir-ing--(fuel).


                            Nouns in _tion_.

          Calculate, calcula-tion.       Educate, educa-tion.
          Na-tion.               Sta-tion.          Ora-tion.

This termination has been introduced into our language from the Latin,
and in some instances differs in meaning very little, or not at all,
from that in _ing_. Thus we could say, _calculating_, _educating_, as
well as _calculation_, _education_. Words like _nation_, _station_, &c.
are pure Latin words, differing from the nominative case of those in the
language from which they are derived, only in having an _n_ at the end
of the word.


                   Nouns in _hood_, (German, _heit_).

                        Man-hood.   Priest-hood.
                        Hardi-hood. Boy-hood.

These words express the _abstract_ notion, as it is called, of the word
from which they are formed; that is, they express in the most _general_
way possible the state or condition of being a _man_, a _priest_, &c.
They are not very numerous, nor, indeed, are they much used, though they
are well adapted to convey that general notion which we have assigned to
them.

All languages contain certain classes of nouns which are called
_diminutives_, from their being used to express “things of a less kind
or degree.”


        Nouns in _ling_ (German, _lein_, in some cases, _ling_).

           Gos-ling.     Found-ling. Dar-ling.    Wit-ling.
           (Goose-ling). Suck-ling.  (Dear-ling). Duck-ling.

In all these examples a notion of some _smallness_ in the object
mentioned, is clearly recognized by common usage. A _duck-ling_ is a
little duck; and a _wit-ling_ is a man of little wit.

It may here be necessary to make a remark, in order to caution those who
are new at this kind of classification from putting words in the same
class merely because they happen to terminate with certain letters that
are the same. Thus it would be absurd to class under the head of
diminutives such words as, _doubling_, _tippling_, _troubling_, merely
because they appear to terminate in _ling_; they clearly belong to the
words in _ing_, and are formed from the words _double_, _tipple_,
_trouble_.


                    Nouns in _kin_ (German, _chen_).

                   Mannikin, a little man, or dwarf.
                   Wilkin, little Will or William.
                   Lamb-kin.
                   Peter-kin, little Peter.


                             Nouns in _th_.

              Strong, strength. Wide, width. Warm, warmth.
              Long, length.     Deep, depth. Moon, month.
              True, truth.

This is a tolerably large class of words, which may be considered as
formed from adjectives by the addition of _th_, and in some cases by
also changing the sound of the vowel, as, strong, strength; deep, depth.
The meaning of these nouns requires no explanation. But though they
belong to the old and genuine forms of our language, we cannot say much
in their favour as far as the ear is concerned. Foreigners occasionally,
as well as some of our own countrymen, find a difficulty in pronouncing
_strength_, a word containing eight letters, with only one vowel to keep
the consonants from quarrelling. It is sometimes incorrectly pronounced
_strenth_.

These words in _th_ may be formed from verbs also, as _birth_, from the
verb _to bear_; but some, as _worth_, have no corresponding word in our
own language from which they may be derived, though in the case of this
word, _worth_, there is in the Latin language a word (_vir_), and in the
Anglo-Saxon a word (_were_), which are the parents of our word _worth_.
From the word _ear_ (to plough), we have the word _earth_, signifying
ploughed land, and still correctly pronounced in many parts of England
as a word of two syllables, _e-arth_. It is written _e-orth_ in the
Anglo-Saxon books, which is exactly the pronunciation that the word
still has in some parts of Lancashire.


                    Words in _ght_, (German, _cht_).

                         Flight. Might. Night.
                         Sight.  Tight. Right.

These words are not easy to explain without entering into considerations
foreign to the kind of inquiry that we have thought proper to adopt; nor
is it quite certain that all the words we have given strictly belong to
the same class, though they happen to terminate with the same letters.
We may, however, observe that there is the same relationship between
_fly_ or _flee_, and _flight_, that there is between _see_ and _sight_,
_tie_ and _tight_. The reason why these and other similar words contain
a _g_, is, because the words from which they are formed originally
contained a _g_, or at least some letter akin to _g_. Thus, in German
there is a word _flug_, meaning _flight_, from which is formed another
word _flucht_, which is nearer in form to our own word _flight_.


                         ---------------------


                                 SONG.

              Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright,
                The bridal of the earth and sky,
              Sweet dews shall weep thy fall to-night,
                                  For thou must die.

              Sweet rose, whose hue, angry and brave,
                Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye.
              Thy root is ever in its grave,
                                  And thou must die.

              Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses,
                A box where sweets compacted lie,
              My music shows you have your closes,
                                  And all must die.

              Only a sweet and virtuous soul,
                Like seasoned timber never gives,
              But when the whole world turns to coal,
                                  Then chiefly lives.

                                                 HERBERT.


                         ---------------------


_Fear._--Charles Gustavus (the successor of Christina of Sweden) was
besieging Prague, when a boor of most extraordinary visage desired
admittance to his tent, and, being allowed entrance, offered, by way of
amusing the king, to devour a whole hog, weighing two hundred weight, in
his presence. The old General Konigsmarc, who stood by the king’s side,
and who, soldier as he was, had not got rid of the prejudices of his
childhood, hinted to his royal master that the peasant ought to be burnt
as a sorcerer. “Sir,” said the fellow, irritated at the remark, “if your
majesty will but make that old gentleman take off his sword and his
spurs I will eat him before your face, before I begin the pig.” General
Konigsmarc (who at the head of a body of Swedes had performed wonders
against the Austrians, and who was looked upon as one of the bravest men
of the age) could not stand this proposal, especially as it was
accompanied by a most hideous and preternatural expansion of the
frightful peasant’s jaws. Without uttering a word the veteran suddenly
turned round, ran out of the court, and thought not himself safe until
he had arrived at his quarters.


                         ---------------------


                    THE LABOURERS OF EUROPE.--No. 2.

          [Illustration: Driving Wild Cattle in the Maremma.]

That part of Italy which borders the Mediterranean, from the mountains
of Genoa to the extremity of Calabria, a length of about seven hundred
miles, consists, except in a few places, such as Naples, where hills
intervene, of a broad stripe of flat country extending from the
sea-shore to the lower ridges of the Apennine mountains. This region is
called the Maremma. It is particularly unhealthy during the summer
months, from June to October, when all the inhabitants who are able
remove to the hills, and the few who are obliged to remain are exposed
to the malaria fever, an intermittent ague, which emaciates the body,
exhausts the vital strength, and, if not checked in time, proves fatal
to the patient. The farms in the greater part of this immense tract, and
more particularly in the Roman and Tuscan divisions of it, are very
large, often extending to several thousand acres. They are held by
wealthy tenants, who live in the towns and keep agents and domestics who
reside on the spot, at least till harvest time. By far the greater part
of the land, although arable, is left for pasture, about one-fourth or
one-sixth being brought into cultivation by annual rotation. No villages
or cottages are to be seen; but here and there, at long intervals, a
dingy, dismal looking _casale_ or farm-house, a speck in the midst of
the desert. As there is no fixed population in these plains, labourers
are engaged from the interior, and chiefly from the highlands of the
Apennines, where a scanty soil, though under a healthy climate, does not
furnish sufficient occupation for the native peasantry. They generally
come down from the mountains in October, in bands of about one hundred
each, under the guidance of a leader, a sort of jobber, who stipulates
for their services and pay with the agent of the farm. It is calculated
that about twenty thousand come down in this manner every year in the
Campagna or plains of Rome alone. Many of them remain till May, employed
in the different works of the farm. They are engaged mostly by the
season, and receive at the rate of from ten to fifteen pence a day.
Their chief nourishment consists of _polenta_, or Indian corn flour,
boiled, with water and salt, into a sort of pudding, with the occasional
addition of skimmed milk or grated cheese. They sleep on the bare
ground, either in the casale, or under shelter of temporary huts made
with canes (arundo tenax), which grow luxuriantly in these regions.

At harvest time, about the latter end of June, a new reinforcement of
labourers from the mountains is required. This is the most critical
period in the year for those poor men who come by thousands from the
pure and wholesome atmosphere of their native districts to inhale the
pestilential air of the lowlands, working by day under a burning sun,
and sleeping at night in the open air, exposed to the heavy dews and to
the bite of gnats and other insects. The harvest men are engaged for
eleven or twelve days, sometimes a fortnight, and they are paid at the
rate of about two francs, or 1_s._ 10_d._ a day. They are also better
fed at this time, and have a plentiful allowance of wine and water. The
corn must be cut, threshed, winnowed, and carried into the granary by
the middle of July, after which no one dares to remain in the fields.
Mr. Chateauvieux, who visited one of these immense farms during the
harvest season, gives the following description of the scene:--

“The _fattore_ or steward ordered horses for us to visit the farm, and
while they were getting ready I examined the _casale_, or farm-house, a
noble but gloomy structure. It consisted of a spacious kitchen and two
large apartments adjoining, at the end of which were three other rooms
of similar dimensions; all totally destitute of furniture, not even
having windows. These formed the ground floor of the centre building.
Above them were six other rooms of the same size used as granaries, one
only being furnished for the use of the superintendants. The wings were
formed by capacious arched stables, at once airy and cool; and above
them were lofts for hay. This part of the establishment is almost
superfluous, being merely used to put up the cattle employed in the work
of the farm during the resting time in the middle of the day; at all
others they are turned out to graze in the open air. There was not the
least appearance of care or neatness about the whole farm. Neither
trees, gardens, nor vegetables were to be seen. To my observations about
this negligence the people replied that the cattle would trample down
and destroy whatever might be planted or sown, and that it was therefore
more convenient to purchase their vegetables in the neighbouring towns,
which are surrounded with vineyards, orchards, and gardens. The expense
of carriage is nothing on these large grazing farms, where there are
always cattle in abundance. They put a loaf and a bundle of hay into the
cart, and thus equipped will perform a journey of sixty miles without
any expense. This abundance of animals constitutes the only luxury of
these farms. Neither steward, superintendants, nor even the herdsmen,
ever think of going on foot. They are always on horseback, galloping at
full speed over the plains, with a gun or a _pungolo_ or spear in their
hands, and horses are always kept ready saddled in the stables, each
person employed on the farm having two assigned for his use. As soon as
we were mounted, the steward conducted us to the part of the farm where
the harvest had commenced. Broad stripes, of a golden yellow, extended
at a distance over the undulated surface of the soil towards the sea;
and we at length came in sight of a sort of army in battle array, with
the commanders on horseback having lances in their hands, fixed to their
stations. We passed several carts drawn by oxen, which were loaded with
bread intended for the consumption of the men. We beheld before us a
long line of a thousand reapers round a vast tract of corn which was
silently falling under their sickles, while twelve superintendants on
horseback surveyed and animated them from behind. They raised a loud
shout at our approach, which resounded through the solitude, and was
intended as a salute to the master of the farm. Soon after, the carts
which we had passed drew up under the shade of some oaks, which were
providentially still remaining in the middle of the plain. At a signal
given, the reapers quitted their work, and the whole troop defiled
before us. There were about as many men as women, all natives of the
Abruzzi. The former were good figures, but the women were frightful.
They were bathed in sweat, for the heat was terrible. Though it was only
a few days since they left the mountains, the malaria was beginning to
affect them. Two only had as yet been attacked by the fever, but I was
told that the number would increase daily, and that by the end of the
harvest, scarce half the troop would be left. ‘What becomes of these
poor wretches?’ inquired I. ‘We give them a piece of bread, and send
them away.’ ‘But where do they go?’ ‘They return towards the mountains:
some of them die on the road, and the others reach home exhausted with
illness and fatigue to recommence the same attempt next year.’ The
repast of this day was a festival; for the master, in order to make his
visit the more welcome, had purchased at Genzano two cart-loads of
water-melons, which were distributed to the reapers with the bread,
which in general forms their only food. The eyes of the poor people were
eagerly fixed on these fine fruits, and I cannot describe the joy which
appeared in their countenances when the large knives displayed the red
pulp and refreshing juice of the melons, and spread around a delicious
perfume. They make three meals a day, which divides their labours into
two periods, and they are allowed two hours sleep in the middle of the
day. Their slumbers at that time are unattended with danger; but the
earth still serves as their bed after the cold dews of the evening haze
descended upon it, and they pass the night on the moist turf in the
midst of sulphureous exhalations. Their employers say that they would
lose too much time were they to return every evening to sleep at the
casale, which in these extensive farms is often at a great distance.”

Thus for about one pound sterling, to which the wages of a reaper during
the harvest fortnight amount, thousands of these poor men walk fifty or
sixty miles and back again, to work in the pestilential flats of the
Maremma, with the prospect of catching the fever, and either dying away
from home, or returning sickly and debilitated for the rest of the year.
Such is, and has been for ages past, the condition of labourers in some
of the most celebrated regions of Italy. In the time of the ancient
Romans the country was cultivated chiefly by slaves, who were considered
no better than cattle, and over whose persons the owners had unlimited
power, beating them, mutilating them, or putting them to death at their
will. Christianity effected a great change: the slaves became, first of
all, serfs attached to the soil, and bound to perform a certain measure
of work for their masters, but their persons were placed under the
protection of the laws. By degrees the serfs became emancipated over the
greatest part of Europe, and although most of them continued poor, they
were enabled to dispose of their own labour and carry it to the best
market. This is as much as human justice and benevolence have been able
to effect as yet for the labourers of Europe in the course of eighteen
centuries. Any further improvement in their condition must be the result
of a slow progress in the general condition of society, to be
accelerated by the diffusion of sound knowledge.

The only stationary population in the Maremma consists of the cow and
buffalo keepers, and forest rangers. The former are always mounted and
armed with a lance, with which they keep in respect the wild cows and
fierce bulls, which are let to roam about these solitudes. These keepers
lead a life of freedom and independence, like that of the Arabs in the
desert; they are paid by yearly wages, besides which they generally rear
up cattle of their own, which are allowed to feed with the rest. They
retire in the summer months to the shady forests which line the
sea-shore, and where the air is not so unwholesome as in the open
plains. There, also, criminals escaped from the pursuits of justice take
shelter, and are sometimes employed as wood rangers or buffalo drivers
by the people of the neighbouring farms. The following cut, as well as
that at the head of this article, represents the mode of driving cattle
to the towns.

 [Illustration: A man drives four head of cattle with a long stick. The
                      cattle are yoked together.]


                         ---------------------


                     THE NATIONAL GALLERY.--No. 3.

Among the restorers of art in the fifteenth century, perhaps the
greatest name, whether in regard to the extent or the versatility of his
powers, is that of LEONARDO DA VINCI. Other artists, his contemporaries
or immediate predecessors, had done much towards the resuscitation, or
rather the introduction, of a just taste, each according to the
particular bent of his genius. But Leonardo, with an intuitive
comprehension, seems to have seized on every principle of excellence,
and although those principles were carried by his successors, at least
by M. Angelo, Raffaelle, and Titian, to higher degrees of perfection,
yet it is not too much to assert that in his works we discover, not the
germs merely, but in visible development, the severe dignity of the
Florentine, the dramatic pathos of the Roman, and the captivating
splendour of the Venetian schools. The works of Leonardo are scarce. The
celebrated picture of the Last Supper, at Milan, has crumbled from the
walls; it is well known, however, by engravings. The picture of _Christ
disputing with the Doctors_, in the National Gallery, is in all that
relates to internal evidence, of unquestionable originality; although,
from the difficulty of having the history of so early a picture, doubts
of its genuineness have been sometimes expressed. Of its value as a
great work of art there can be no doubt. It is evident, that in this
brilliant and elaborate performance Leonardo has tasked his powers to
the utmost. From the depth of colour and chiaroscuro, the figures stand
out in the boldest relief; but in order to concentrate the interest on
the person of the Saviour, the subordinate figures are kept somewhat
smaller than the laws of perspective allow: an artifice not perfectly
justifiable, but, in this instance, fully effective. The person of
Christ is considerably older than is consonant with scriptural
authority, and the countenance has an air of almost feminine mildness
and amiability: indeed, it is evident that the radical lines of the
physiognomy were constructed on that abstract idea of beauty which the
artist had established in his own mind. Hence it is that this head of
the Saviour is, perhaps, somewhat deficient in masculine energy. The
expression, however, is beautiful and characteristic; and announces a
being who, conscious of uttering inspired truths, encounters the
authority of human wisdom without fear, and triumphs without arrogance.
The noble and sedate character of this picture is nowhere disturbed by
strong contrasts or violent expression. The astonishment which the
Doctors may be supposed to have evinced, has subsided; and with the
exception of the eager and determined theologian on the right, they
appear to listen with absorbed and deferential attention to the
arguments and eloquence of their divine antagonist. The drapery of the
Saviour is disposed with great grace and dignity, and the hands are
painted with peculiar beauty.

There are four pictures by CORREGIO in the National Gallery, and
although neither of them can be said to exhibit the excellence of that
great master in its fullest extent, they are yet fine and beautiful
specimens of his various and extraordinary powers. The two groups of
children’s heads which hang on the staircase are painted precisely on
the same principle with the groups of angels in the Cupola at Parma,--a
style which in breadth and grandeur has never been equalled, except by
Michael Angelo in the Sistine Chapel. The two small pictures exhibit the
extremes of Corregio’s style: that of _Christ praying in the Garden_,
leaning to the last degree of depth and concentration; the other, that
of _The Holy Family_, being made up of semi-tones, and scarcely
exceeding, either in its lights or shadows, the medium of half-tint. The
colouring, too, is negative, never approaching to a primitive hue; but
the execution is exquisitely pure and delicate. If in this work Corregio
is at all inferior to himself in his usual power of expression, the
deficiency is amply compensated in the picture of _Christ praying in the
Garden_, which may be cited as one, among the few works of art, in which
every part of the picture is made a vehicle of the presiding sentiment.
The whole scene is enveloped in gloom and solemnity. No genial hues
enliven the colouring, a part even of the principal light formed by the
mantle of Christ being composed of pale blue, an arrangement rarely
admitted by Corregio or any other great colourist: the only tint
approaching to warmth is that of the drapery of the Angel, a subdued
red, which, for the purpose of harmony, is faintly repeated on the
groups in the middle distance. The first pale grey of dawn appears
breaking over the horizon; but the general effect of the picture is that
of intense gloom, in the midst of which we discern the sleeping
Disciples, and farther off the Jews approaching to seize on Christ. The
figure of the Redeemer himself, isolated, amidst darkness and danger,
while his friends slumber and his enemies pursue him, is a sublime and
touching impersonation of suffering virtue appealing to God from human
persecution, but bowing with implicit resignation to the Almighty will.
In this picture, Corregio exhibits what we so often wish for in
Rembrandt, principals worthy of the beautiful accessories by which they
are surrounded.


                         ---------------------


                            ART OF WRITING.

Mr. Mariner, in his account of the Tonga Islands, has given us a most
curious and interesting description of the surprise and perplexity with
which the powers of this invention were contemplated, for the first
time, by some of the natives of the Tonga Islands. Mr. Mariner, shortly
after the commencement of his captivity amongst these savages, had, in
the hope of thereby obtaining his liberty, written a letter, with a
solution of gunpowder, on a piece of paper which he obtained from one of
the natives; and he confided it to the care of a chief, with directions
that it should be given to the captain of any ship which might appear on
the coast. Finnow, the king, however, having heard of this transaction,
his suspicions were excited, and he immediately sent to the chief for
the letter, and obtained it. “When it was put into his hands,” the
narrative proceeds, “he looked at it on all sides; but not being able to
make anything of it, he gave it to Jeremiah Higgins, who was at hand,
and ordered him to say what it meant. Mr. Mariner was not present.
Higgins took the letter, and translating part of it into the Tonga
language, judiciously represented it to be merely a request to any
English captain that might arrive to interfere with Finnow for the
liberty of Mr. Mariner and his countrymen; stating that they had been
kindly treated by the natives, but nevertheless wished to return, if
possible, to their native country.... This mode of communicating
sentiments was an inexplicable puzzle to Finnow; he took the letter
again and examined it, but it afforded him no information. He considered
the matter a little within himself; but his thoughts reflected no light
upon the subject. At length he sent for Mr. Mariner, and desired him to
write down something; the latter asked what he would choose to have
written? He replied, Put down me. He accordingly wrote ‘Fee-now’
(spelling it according to the strict English orthography); the chief
then sent for another Englishman, who had not been present, and
commanding Mr. Mariner to turn his back and look another way, he gave
the man the paper, and desired him to read what that was: he accordingly
pronounced aloud the name of the king, upon which Finnow snatched the
paper from his hand, and, with astonishment, looked at it, turned it
round, and examined it in all directions. At length he exclaimed, ‘This
is neither like myself nor anybody else! Where are my legs? How do you
know it to be I?’ And then, without stopping for any attempt at
explanation, he impatiently ordered Mr. Mariner to write something else,
and thus employed him for three or four hours in putting down the names
of different persons, places, and things, and making the other man read
them. This afforded extraordinary diversion to Finnow, and to all the
men and women present, particularly as he now and then whispered a
little love anecdote, which was strictly written down, and audibly read
by the other, not a little to the confusion of one or other of the
ladies present; but it was all taken in good humour, for curiosity and
astonishment were the prevailing passions. How their names and
circumstances could be communicated, through so mysterious a channel,
was altogether past their comprehension. Finnow at length thought he had
got a notion of it, and explained to those about him it was very
possible to put down a mark or sign of something that had been seen,
both by the writer and reader, and which should be mutually understood
by them; but Mr. Mariner immediately informed him, that he could write
down anything that he had never seen: the king directly whispered to him
to put Toogoo Ahoo, the king of Tonga, whom he and Toobo Nuha had
assassinated many years before Mr. Mariner’s arrival. This was
accordingly done, and the other read it; when Finnow was yet more
astonished, and declared it to be the most wonderful thing he had ever
heard of. He then desired him to write ‘Tarky,’ the chief of the
garrison of Bea, whom Mr. Mariner and his companions had not yet seen;
this chief was blind in one eye. When ‘Tarky’ was read, Finnow inquired
whether he was blind or not? This was putting writing to an unfair test!
And Mr. Mariner told him that he had only written down the sign standing
for the sound of his name, and not for the description of his person. He
was then ordered, in a whisper, to write, ‘Tarky, blind in his left
eye,’ which was done, and read by the other man, to the increased
astonishment of every body. Mr. Mariner then told him, that in several
parts of the world messages were sent to great distances, through the
same medium; and being folded and fastened up, the bearer could know
nothing of the contents; and that the histories of whole nations were
thus handed down to posterity, without spoiling by being kept, as he
chose to express himself. Finnow acknowledged this to be a most noble
invention; but added, that it would not do at all for the Tonga Islands;
that there would be nothing but disturbances and conspiracies, and he
should not be sure of his life perhaps another month.”


                         ---------------------


                        LARGE-HEADED QUADRUPEDS.

The great teeth of such quadrupeds as the Hippopotamus require
proportioned jaws, and, consequently, the bones of the head are of great
strength and weight. Thence arises a necessity for the head being
supported by a particular ligamentous apparatus, which in the bull is
vulgarly called the _paxwax_ (the ligamentum muchæ). This ligament
extends from the prominent spines of the vertebrae betwixt the
shoulders, to the occiput or back of the head, so as to suspend the
head, and of course without muscular exertion or waste of vital energy.
This ligament, however, differs from the common ligaments which knit the
bones together, in being elastic; without which property it would check
the motions of the head. On this subject of the wonderful provisions
evinced in the bones of the head and neck of the larger animals, we were
much interested in what was lately delivered by Sir C. Bell, the
anatomical Professor in the Royal College of Surgeons. On exhibiting the
skull of the elephant, and leading his audience to remark the weight of
the grinding teeth, the length of the tusks, and the size and strength
of the jaws, he observed it was impossible that such an enormous engine
of mastication could be suspended at the end of a long neck. Jockies, he
said, attended very particularly to a light head and a short neck in a
horse; a heavy head and a long neck brought too great a weight to bear
upon the fore-feet. If such slight differences in the shape were
observed to produce defects in the horse, the consequent imperfection
would be incalculably greater in the elephant. But in this animal,
nature, instead of projecting the head on such a neck as would enable
the mouth to reach the ground, diminishes the depth of the vertebrae of
the neck in a very remarkable manner, so as in fact to fix the head to
the body without the intervention of a neck. But how was the animal to
feed? since the want of a neck and the projection of the tusks made
grazing in the usual way impossible. This implied the necessity of a
trunk, which is equivalent to a hand, and enables the animal to feed
itself without projecting the head to the ground. By these and similar
illustrations, the Professor proved design in the structure of the
skeleton; and contrasted the heads of the horse, the elephant, and the
giraffe.


                         ---------------------


                              WITCHCRAFT.

The reigns of Philip and Mary and James I. were not sufficiently removed
from the darkness of the middle ages to render enactments like the
following ridiculous, even in the mouths of the legislature:--

“All persons who shall practise invocation or conjuration of wicked
spirits, any witchcraft, enchantment, charm, or sorcery, whereby any
person shall happen to be killed or destroyed, shall, with their aiders
and abettors, he accounted felons, without benefit of clergy; and all
persons practising any witchcraft, &c., whereby any person shall happen
to be wasted, consumed, or lamed in his or her body or members, or
whereby any goods or chattels shall be destroyed, wasted, or impaired,
shall, with their counsellors and aiders, suffer for the first offence
one year’s imprisonment and the pillory, and for the second the
punishment of felony without clergy.”

The like penalties are annexed to declaring by sorcery where any hidden
or stolen treasure or goods may be found.

Again, “if any person shall consult, covenant with, entertain, employ,
feed, or reward any evil or wicked spirit, or take up any dead man,
woman, or child out of his, her, or their grave; or the skin, bone, or
any other part of any dead person to be employed in any manner of
witchcraft, sorcery, charm, or enchantment[1],” &c., he shall suffer
death as a felon, without benefit of clergy.

Let us thank God, who has put the means of civilization in our way, that
(in the words of Sir Walter Scott) “the grosser faults of our ancestors
are now out of date; and that whatever follies the present race may be
guilty of, the sense of humanity is too universally spread to permit
them to think of tormenting wretches till they confess what is
impossible, and then burning them for their pains.”

-----

Footnote 1:

  1 James, c. 12.


                         ---------------------


_Heraldry._--A sanguine Frenchman had so high an opinion of the
pleasures to be enjoyed in the study of heraldry, that he used to
lament, as we are informed by Menage, the hard case of our forefather
Adam, who could not possibly amuse himself by investigating that
science, nor that of genealogy.


                         ---------------------


_A Threat explained._--“Your unchristian virulence against me,” said a
Huguenot who had been persecuted for preaching, “shall cost hundreds of
people their lives.” This menace brought the author into trouble; he was
cited to a court of justice, and was charged with harbouring the most
bloody designs against his fellow-subjects. “I am innocent,” said he,
“of all you lay to my account. My only meaning was, that I intended
(since I could not act as a minister) to practise as a physician.”--If
the Huguenot had practised without the requisite knowledge he would have
kept his promise.


                         ---------------------


_Pride._--A Spaniard, rising from a fall, whereby his nose had suffered
considerably, exclaimed, “Voto a tal, esto escaminar por la tierra!”
“This comes of walking upon earth!”


                         ---------------------


_Advertisements._--We are sometimes astonished at the impudent
assertions of quacks in their public announcements at the present day.
Their predecessors, however, went somewhat further, as the two following
advertisements taken from the original edition of the Spectator will
show:--“An admirable confect which assuredly cures stuttering and
stammering in children or grown persons, though never so bad, causing
them to speak distinct and free without any trouble or difficulty; it
remedies all manner of impediments in the speech, or disorders of the
voice of any kind, proceeding from what cause soever, rendering those
persons capable of speaking easily and free, and with a clear voice, who
before were not able to utter a sentence without hesitation. Its
stupendous effects in so quickly and infallibly curing stuttering and
stammering, and all disorders of the voice and difficulty in delivery of
the speech, are really wonderful. Price 2_s._ 6_d._ a pot, with
directions. Sold only at Mr. Osborn’s Toy-shop, at the Rose and Crown,
under St. Dunstan’s church, Fleet-street.”

“Loss of memory, or forgetfulness, certainly cured, by a grateful
electuary, peculiarly adapted for that end; it strikes at the primary
source, which few apprehend, of forgetfulness, makes the head clear and
easy, the spirits free, active, and undisturbed; corroborates and
revives all the noble faculties of the soul, such as thought, judgment,
apprehension, reason, and memory, which last in particular it so
strengthens as to render that faculty exceeding quick, and good beyond
imagination; thereby enabling those whose memory was before almost
totally lost to remember the minutest circumstance of their affairs, &c.
to a wonder. Price 2_s._ 6_d._ a pot. Sold only at Mr. Payne’s, at the
Angel and Crown, in St. Paul’s Church-yard, with directions.”


                         ---------------------


_Doubtful Improvement._--A set of parish officers applied to Snetzler (a
celebrated organ builder) to examine their organ and to make
improvements on it--“Gentlemen,” said the honest Swiss, “your organ be
wort von hondred pound, just now--well--I will spend von hondred pound
upon it, and it shall then be wort fifty.”


                         ---------------------


                           ANCIENT PAINTINGS.

    [Illustration: Grotesque representation of a Portrait Painter’s
                               Studio.]

During the progress of the excavations at Pompeii, a painting was found
in the Casa Carolina, which scarcely held together to be copied, and
fell in pieces upon the first rain. It is of grotesque character, and
represents a pigmy painter whose only covering is a tunic. He is at work
upon the portrait of another pigmy, clothed in a manner to indicate a
person of distinction. The artist is seated opposite to his sitter, at
an awful distance from the picture, which is placed upon an easel,
similar in construction to ours. By the side of the artist stands his
palette, which is a little table with four feet, and by it is a pot to
wash his pencils in. He therefore was working with gum, or some sort of
water-colours: but he did not confine himself to this branch of the art,
for to the right we see his colour-grinder, who prepares in a vessel
placed on some hot coals, colours mixed with wax and oil. Two amateurs
enter the studio, and appear to be conversing with respect to the
picture. On the noise occasioned by their entrance, a scholar seated in
the distance turns round to look at them. It is difficult to explain the
presence of the bird in the painting-room. The picture is not complete:
a second bird, and on the opposite side a child playing with a dog, had
perished before Mazois (an artist who has preserved some of the most
valuable remains at Pompeii) copied it. This picture is very curious, as
it shows how few things, in the mechanical practice of painting, have
been changed during 2000 years.

There is another picture preserved at Pompeii, representing a female
employed in making a copy of the bearded Bacchus. She is dressed in a
light green tunic, without sleeves, over which she wears a dark red
mantle. Beside her is a small box, such as we are told by Varro painters
used, divided into compartments, into which she dips her brush. She
mixes her tints on the palette, which she holds in her left hand.

             [Illustration: Painting of a Female Artist.]


                         ---------------------


_Union for Ill_.--When the Prince of Conde and Cardinal de Retz, two
leaders of opposite factions in France, were viewing the curious garden
of a hermit who was famous as a florist, they amused themselves by
keeping him attentive to their discourse while they trod to pieces his
best flowers on each side of the path. He soon discovered their plan,
and, shaking his grey locks, “Alas!” said he, “how much were it to be
wished that you could agree in plans to relieve your distressed country
with the same readiness which you show in joining to persecute a
helpless solitary.”


                         ---------------------


_Command of Temper_.--Lopez d’Acunha, a gallant Spaniard, who lived in
1578, recorded in the Apophthegms of Juan Ruffo, seems to have had the
affections of his mind under rare command. He was called out from his
tent by a sudden alarm. His servants armed him in great haste, and
although he told them that his helmet pained him exceedingly, they
insisted that it could not be fitted better. The brave Lopez had not
leisure to contest the point: he rushed to the combat, fought with
success, and at his return, unlacing his casque, and throwing it down on
the ground together with his bloody ear, “There,” said he mildly to his
awkward valets, “was I not right when I told you how much you hurt me in
putting on my helmet?”

------------------------------------------------------------------------




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                          Transcriber’s Notes


This file uses _underscores_ to indicate italic text. New original cover
art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain.
Illustrations have been moved in some cases to natural breaks in the
text. Itemized changes from the original text:

 • p. 197: Changed “providentally” to “providentially” in phrase “He
   then desired him to write ‘Tarky,’ the chief of the garrison.”
 • p. 198: Added closing single quotation mark after “Tarky” in phrase
   “providentially” in phrase “which were providentially still remaining
   in the middle of the plain.”
 • p. 200: Added closing bracket to caption of illustration “Grotesque
   representation of a Portrait Painter’s Studio.”



*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77008 ***