Read Ebook: The Mirror of Literature Amusement and Instruction. Volume 12 No. 329 August 30 1828 by Various

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THE MIRROR OF LITERATURE, AMUSEMENT, AND INSTRUCTION.

As one act of public spirit generally leads to another, the erection of a new stone bridge is projected at Staines; it is to be nearer the church than the present bridge, and will afford a better view of the new structure. An elegant stone bridge was erected here in 1796, but two of the piers sinking, the bridge was taken down, and an iron one substituted; this failed, and has since been supported by wooden piles and frame-work.

This is a boundary stone which marks the extent of the jurisdiction possessed by the City of London over the western part of the River Thames. It stands on the margin of the river, in the vicinity of Staines church, and bears the date of 1280. On a moulding round the upper part is inscribed "GOD preserve the City of London, A.D. 1280."

THE SPECTRE'S VOYAGE.

"There is a part of the river Wye, between the city of Hereford and the town of Moss, which was distinguished and well known for upwards of two centuries, by the appellation of the Spectre's Voyage; across which, so long as it retained that name, neither entreaty nor remuneration could induce any boatman to convey passengers after a certain hour of the night. The superstitious ideas current amongst the lower orders of people were, that on every evening about the hour of eight, a beautiful female figure was seen in a small vessel, sailing from Hereford to Northrigg, with the utmost rapidity, against wind and tide, or even in a dead calm--landed at the little village, returned, and vanished, when arrived at a certain part of the river, where the current is remarkably strong, about half a mile from the city of Hereford."

Bright shines the silver queen of night, Upon fair Wye's soft stream; Which throws a ray of heavenly light Reflected from her beam. Yet this smooth water, wide and clear, This scene of sweet repose; Erst filled the villagers with fear As ancient story goes.

'Tis told us that in dead of night, A skiff was seen compact and light, With sail, and oars, and mast. And in it sat the spectral form, Of a most beauteous maid; Who heeded neither wind nor storm, As she this voyage made.

Nor heeded she the pelting rain, Nor winter's blinding snows; But to the destin'd spot amain, The scudding vessel goes; Or if so calm, the placid Wye, No wave was on its face, Yet onward did that light bark fly To reach the fated place.

When on the deck she was espied, Each trembled to behold; As on she sail'd 'gainst wind and tide, Then sail and oar were both applied, And swift the vessel flew; But where the man--who could abide That vessel to pursue?

Ah! who could dare approach the spot Where Isabel did steer? That mariner existeth not, But did that phantom fear. Or where's the man whose courage bold, Could lend him strength one hour, To gaze upon that form so cold, Or place him in her power.

And when the spectral sail was spread, That flutter'd to and fro; The hair would bristle on each head, Which awful fear did show. And when the moon-beam seem'd to kiss, That dreaded maiden's brow; Something each knew would go amiss, Nor judg'd such wrong, I trow.

For tho' the form was wond'rous fair, 'Twas terrible to view; And to avoid it was the care Of every vessel's crew. Full many a dismal tale was told, Of that fam'd spectre ship; And none were ever known so bold To watch this nightly trip.

Why did that troubled shade proceed Along that watery way? Or what the purpose, or the deed, Which caus'd her thus to stray? For good, or bad, did Isabel, Forsake her dreary grave? Or was't because she lov'd to sail On Wye's pellucid wave?

The spectre came to meet her dear, Lord Hugh--the young and brave; When dreadful tidings met her ear, "He'd found a traitor's grave." When second Edward rul'd this land, Of favourites he'd a numerous band, As worthless as could be.

Two noblemen amongst this set Were hated above all; And many were the lords who met, To work the Spencer's fall. Success attends these foe-men's strife, Lord Hugh is doom'd to die; And in his happiest hours of life, That precious life did fly.

His manly form did never more, Bless Isabel's fond eyes; With him--the joys of life were o'er, For him--the maiden dies. Yet still the spirit fondly clings, To what in life has been, Thus Isabel, it nightly brings To this beloved scene.

But when her feet have touch'd the ground, With silent, noiseless tread; No tender lover there is found, He's number'd with the dead. No more of love the tender strain, Falls on her list'ning ear, In life--her joy, was turn'd to pain, Her hope--gave place to fear.

'Tis then, that dread laments they hear, Who pass by night that way; Which the scar'd traveller, so clear, Hears till returning day; When re-embarks sad Isabel, That spectre shade so fair; Then dashing in the water's swell, She vanishes in air.

No trace remains in Sol's bright ray, Of boat or awful spright; For grief--or guilt conceived by day, Conspicuous is at night. Thus Isabel's unearthly woe, Remain'd for many years; But as our superstitions go, So go unfounded fears

CAROLINE MAXWELL.

HARVEST HOME.

Sir,--Wishing to add to your numerous accounts of our local customs, I send you a description of the manner of celebrating harvest home in Westmoreland.

Thus, Mr. Editor, is harvest home spent in that county, and I send you the only account I can furnish of the harvest merriments, hoping some of your correspondents will add to my little mite.

W.H.H.

STANZAS TO, AND IN ILLUSTRATION OF, A LANDSCAPE BY CLAUDE.

Young land of beauty, and divine repose! Art thou a dream? a vision from on high Unveiling Paradise? uncurt'ning those Supernal glories, Eden doth supply To glad immortals? o'er thee, ev'ning glows, Brilliant, as seraph's blush--pure as his breath-- Smiling an antidote to tears and death!

Young land of beauty! a living well Of sylvan joy art thou, whose thousand springs Gush, sinless, gladness, peace ineffable, And that luxuriousness of being, which Mocks eloquence: warm, holy, ruby, rich.

Young land of beauty! 'neath thy sun-ting'd shades, Beside thy lake, crystal in roseate light, Enam'ring music breathes: there, raptur'd maids In dances, with adoring youths unite; There, magic voices sigh in song; and glades With birds and blossoms, all but vital, seem Entranc'd, like hermit in divinest dream!

Young land of beauty! art thou but a ray Of intellect, emerg'd from one? and shrin'd, That thine immortal light may dim the day, Faint struggling thro' some lowlier, cloudier, mind: Dream of the painter-poet! oh! we'll say, Lur'd to ethereal musings by thy thrall, Tho' dream in part, no dream art thou in all!

M.L.B

MARCH OF "IMPROVEMENT."

Is not the Borough a very improper place for the king's, or any other, college?--Is it not the very mart of trade, and consequently ever noisy and in confusion?--And what a magnificent improvement would its erection near Westminster Abbey be to that ancient and very sumptuous pile. Could it not be erected from Tothill Street, and extend towards Storey's Gate?--And should it not be built in the Gothic style to correspond with the abbey? The seat of learning and wisdom is in that neighbourhood ; therefore it is the place best adapted for the erection of a college. Ought not also those disgraceful erections close to the abbey's western front, to be instantly removed?--And ought not the house of the dean, &c. to be also rebuilt in the Gothic style, and extend from Tothill Street towards St. John's church? I never see this abbey without feeling utterly disgusted at the surrounding objects. The great tower, also, should be erected in the same style as the other two. But should not the council office, and Somerset House, be finished before other works are begun?--Should not the interior of the dome of St. Paul's be repainted and gilt, and the windows be of stained glass?--And should not the railing on the top of the dome on the outside be replaced by railing made of the new metal lately invented, which imitates brass, and does not tarnish?--Would not the entrance for the public, from Piccadilly into St. James's Park, be much better two or three yards from the new royal archway, as it will be very likely to be injured by people passing so near it?

These additions, alterations, and improvements, ought to be made now; and I doubt not, in the course of time, all warehouses will be removed from the banks of the Thames, above Blackfriars' Bridge, and that streets will run by the waterside as at Dublin. Also the time will come when the houses round St. Paul's will be pulled down and rebuilt in the Grecian style of architecture to correspond with the cathedral , and be re-erected at a much greater distance from it.

I would also ask, "should not the chimney pots upon the palaces in Regent Street, &c. be of a slate colour?--Should not all tiles be painted of the same colour? --Should not the names of streets be more particularly attended to?"

INTRODUCTION OF SILK INTO EUROPE.

LADIES' FASHIONS.

If you think the following observations conformable to the plan of your useful and entertaining publication, perhaps you may be induced to give them a place, or notice the subject I have in view, in some other way.

Notwithstanding the host of publications periodically issuing from the press, independent of the incalculable list of newspapers and reviews; and though the rage for periodicals is so great, that a single event will give rise to one, yet there does not appear to me to be any thing like those works which used to amuse and instruct our great grandfathers. I mean the "Spectator," "Tatler," and others, whose influence extends to the present day, and which are continually affording pleasure to cultivated minds by the soundness of their doctrines, aided by the extensive knowledge of human nature that the authors display throughout. But as they are now become standard works, they are not so capable of "shooting folly as it flies," and being as it were aged in the service, can only have a proper effect when folly will stand still to listen to them; but as that is, in most instances, out of the question, we want something more active, or in other words, something new; and novelty being the order of the day, attention is thereby excited, and the follies and extravagances of the "age," may possibly have some advantageous pruning.

Caricatures, whether exhibited in pantomimes or print shops, are not sufficient; they are too ridiculous, though sometimes not devoid of humour, instance the picture of a lady striving ineffectually to make a way through Temple Bar, but is prevented by the enormous size of her bonnet, which shows likewise that this extravagance in dress is not confined to the west end. But as these things are only laughed at, some other means ought to be adopted; and I should think myself extremely fortunate if I could be the humble means of inducing you, or your correspondents, to take the matter in hand.

Certainly not the least to be deprecated are the "ladies' present dresses;" the extravagances of which are not confined to the head, but are exhibited also all down the arm and are also, in most instances, by some unusual "bustling," equally absurd. I wonder what would be said by Mr. Addison, were he to witness the present fashions. He would certainly think that all the care he took to keep the fair sex in order was in vain; and though enormous head dresses were not in vogue in his time, he seems to have anticipated that they would be, by his recommending the perusal of his 98th paper of the "Spectator" to his female readers by way of prevention, but which, alas! has not been studied with the attention it merits. Probably the transcription of one passage will not be misapplied here:--

He says, "I would desire the fair sex to consider how impossible it is for them to add any thing that can be ornamental to what is already the masterpiece of nature. The head has the most beautiful appearance, as well as the highest station, in a human figure. Nature has laid out all her art in beautifying the face; she has touched it with vermilion, planted in it a double row of ivory, made it the seat of smiles and blushes, lighted it up and enlivened it with the brightness of the eyes, hung it on each side with curious organs of sense, given it airs and graces that cannot be described, and surrounded it with such a flowing shade of hair as sets all its beauties in the most agreeable light. In short she seems to have designed the head as the cupola to the most glorious of her works; and when we load it with such a pile of supernumerary ornaments, we destroy the symmetry of the human figure, and foolishly contrive to call off the eye from great and real beauties to childish gew-gaws, ribbons, and bone-lace."

Womankind, Mr. Editor, I do not believe, are naturally vain; but as they were made for us and for our comfort, it is natural that they should endeavour to gain our esteem; but they carry their endeavours too far; by straining to excite attention they overstep the mark, become vain and coquetish, one strives to outdo another, others say they must do as other women do, and they thus make themselves ridiculous unknowingly. It is really painful to see a woman of sense and education become a slave to the tyranny of fashion--and injuring both body and mind--and it is, I think, an insult to a man of understanding to endeavour to excite his attention by any such peculiarities.

RETROSPECTIVE GLEANINGS

HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF SMITHFIELD.

P.T.W.

After the Great Fire, many Londoners resided here in huts.

THE ANECDOTE GALLERY.

THE ANDALUSIAN ASS.

A gay lieutenant of the Spanish Royal Guards, known by the name of Alonzo Beldia, became violently enamoured of the beautiful Carlotta Pena, the eldest daughter of a reputable gunsmith, whose humble habitation adjoined the vast cemetery of Valencia, and whom Beldia had casually seen at a public entertainment given in that good city.

GRADIVUS.

SPIRIT OF DISCOVERY.

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