To William Wheatstone, of No. 118, Jermyn-street, To George Graydon, of Bath, esquire, a captain in our onths. ALMON FISHERIES IN SCOTLAND AND IRELAND. Arts and Sciences.-An instrument has been lately presented to the Academy of Sciences at Paris, by Mons. Benoit, called a Pachometre, for the purpose of ascertaining the exact thickness of looking-glasses in frames, and which received the approbation of Monsieurs Fremil and Ampere, the Commissioners, who observe, in the conclusion of their report, "We consider that the Pachometre, with fixed angles, is the most simple and correct instrument yet produced, for measuring, with nicety, the thickness of mirrors or looking-glasses in frames;" which opinion was unanimously confirmed by the whole Academy of Sciences. The Phænir. Correspondence. THE HAMILTONIAN SYSTEM. TO THE EDITOR. way drowns him; and when they have made a furrow, bour, so advantageously by me contrived, that a child's they go a little distance, the one to the one side, and the force bringeth up an hundred foot high an incredible other to the other side of the furrow, and throw themselves quantity of water, even two foot diameter, so naturally, on their sides when they approach, and shed their spawn that the work will not be heard even into the next room; into the furrow at the same time. I have seen three pair and with so great ease and geometrical symmetry, that upon a spawning bed at a time, and have stood and looked though it work day and night from one end of the year at them, both while making the furrow and laying the to the other, it will not require forty shillings reparation spawn."-Besides the destruction of the ova, and fry, by to the whole Engine, nor hinder ones day-work, and I the present mode of fishing, and by depredators, immense may boldly call it the most stupendious work in the whole numbers are killed by mill-dams, great quantities being world: not only with little charge to drain all sorts of To Waliam Johnson, of Great Tothan, Essex, gentle-frequently found dead under the wheels. Much injury is mines, and furnish cities with water, though never so high un, for a means of evaporating fluids, for the purpose of also done by dye-works, bleachfields, &c. which poison seated, as well to keep them sweet, running through tering heat into buildings for manufacturing, horti- the water. One witness, speaking of the destruction by several streets, and so performing the work of scavengers, altural, and domestic uses, and for heating liquors in the porpoises, says he has seen them "catching the sal- as well as furnishing the inhabitants with sufficient water baling, brewing, and dyeing, and in making sugar and mon till they were quite satisfied of them, and then they for their private occasions; but likewise supplying rivers with reduced expenditure of fuel.-5th August.-4 would play themselves with them, by throwing them up with sufficient to maintain and make them portable from into the air, and catching them before they reach the town to town, and for the bettering of lands all the way To Jacob Perkins, of Fleet-street, London, engineer, water."-All the witnesses examined generally concurred it runs; with many more advantageous, and yet greater certain improvements in propelling vessels.-9th Aug. in the benefits of the stake-net, which they recommend to effects of profit, admiration and consequence. So that de6 months. be again introduced, and also that the close season should servedly I deem this invention to crown my labours, To John Fassell, of Mells, Somersetshire, edge-tool be enlarged; that the laws respecting poachers should be to reward my expences, and make my thoughts acquiesce aker, for his improved method of heating woollen cloth rendered more efficient, and that angling should not be inway of further inventions: this making up the whole the purpose of giving it a lustre in dressing.-11th permitted for so long a period of the year. To the report century, and preventing any further trouble to the reader ugust-2 months. is appended a paper on the habits and nature of salmon, for the present, meaning to leave to posterity a book, To Herman Schroder, of Hackney, Middlesex, broker, by Sir H. Davy, in which he differs from the fishers on wherein under each of these heads the means to put in r his new filterer.-11th August.-6 months. the subject of the stake net. We shall, if possible, give a execution and visible trial all and every of these inventions, synopsis of this document on a future occasion. Sir H. with the shape and form of all things belonging to them, D. concludes by some propositions for the better preserva-shall be printed by brass-plates. be Select Committee appointed last Session of Par-net fishing, coincides with the general opinion of the protion and production of the fisheries; and, except in stake- In Bonum Publicum, et ad majorem Dei Gloriam. sent to consider the state of the Salmon Fisheries, have prietors of the fisheries. .published an interesting report. It contains the evice of eleven individuals, well acquainted with the fish$; and the object of the inquiry is to ascertain the causes he general decrease in the number of salmon caught of years, and, if possible, to point out some means of teasing the value of the fisheries. The evidence chiefly tes to the Esk, the Tweed, and the Tay fisheries, in land, and to several rivers in Ireland. From the le of the facts adduced, it appears that all these fishehave fallen off in produce, particularly since the protion to fish with what is termed the stake-net; that le nets are not destructive to the fry and spawn, and, gplaced generally near the mouths of rivers, interfish which could not otherwise be taken, as niany of do not go far up the rivers;-while, on the other I, the fishing by net and coble, by disturbing the graeds where the spawn is deposited, and killing the fry, sidered very detrimental to the fisheries. From the ral depositions, we extract the following interesting s-The Tweed affords the greatest produce, and rents bout £12,000 a-year, though it has greatly fallen off, tonsequence of depredations in close time, of angling, hing the water, as it is termed, and other destructive tices. The sea-trout, the herling, the grilse, and the on are considered by all these gentlemen as distinct separate fish, resembling each other in many of habits: and it is also supposed by all of them but that every river has its peculiar breed of salmon, return from the sea to the river in which they were We are not informed, however, of any peculiar od of distinguishing those of the different rivers, exfrom the sizes, those in some rivers being generally than those caught in others. Salmon go up the to spawn in July, August, September, and October; th some go up sooner, and return to the sea at differriods, to get rid of different insects which infest them, peculiar to salt-others to fresh water. The salmon it their spawn in November, December, and January. nale and female meet for this purpose on the shalwhere they make furrows in the gravel, deposit their , and cover it up. The spawn come to life, and from the gravel in about six weeks, chiefly in March. number of ova in a salmon is from 13,000 to 26,000, on an average, from 18,000 to 20,000, and each of , if impregnated by the male, would produce a fish. a general opinion of these fishers, that the grampuses, dises, and seals are much more destructive to salmon all the arts of man. The two former have been seen are the salmon like dogs, and devour them in large tities. In the Tay, since the stake-nets were disused, shery only yields about 34.000 fish annually,-fory it yielded 60,000. The fish are best in and near After being long in fresh water, they lose their t colour and their weight, and become less firm.following is the mode of depositing the spawn:hey proceed to the shallow waters, generally in the ng, or at twilight in the evening. They play round ground, two of them together. When they begin to ke the furrow, they work up the gravel rather against stream, as a salmon cannot work with his head down stream, for the water going into his gills the wrong A Century of the Names and Scantlings of such Inventions 95.-A DOUBLE CROSS-BOW. SIR,-The name of Mr. Hamilton has acquired an enviable notoriety. Every unprejudiced mind must admire that intrepidity which denounces the unprincipled conduct and unblushing ignorance of all who have preceded himself in the profession of instructing others. Knowing their arts, he fears not to point them out to the scorn of the world. Equally deserving our unqualified praise is the manly can. dour with which he advances his own pretensions. True supported cannot be doubted. But it is not my intention, merit is ever confident. The value of pretensions thus here, to undertake the needless task of eulogizing Mr. Hamilton. My object in writing to you is to direct the attention of that gentleman, to the subjoined extract from some poems that appeared about 30 years ago. It would, at first sight, appear to militate against his doctrine, that one word in a language can have only one signification, and can, therefore, be properly translated only in one way. He may, perhaps, be able to explain the passage may be ranked under the head of those excepaway the apparent objection to his system; or, at all events, tions which prove the rule. I will, however, hazard perhaps a more probable hypothesis that the lines are the production of one of those schoolmasters whose object is proved by Mr. Hamilton, to be that of obstructing the path of true knowledge, and keeping the rising generation in the same ignorance that has benighted their fathers. He has had an inkling of intelligence beyond his fellows; and, anticipating the appearance of some disinterested genius who would endeavour to explode the old besotted system of teaching by grammars and dictionaries, has, in the true spirit of his class, invented this, as it were, expemo-rimentum crusis, with a view to expose the dreaded system to the cavils and sneers of the superficial and the shoot two arrows, either together, or one after the other, 96. A WAY FOR SEA-BANKS. A way to make a sea-bank so firm and geometrically strong, so that a stream can have no power over it; excellent likewise to save the pillar of a bridge, being far cheaper and stronger than stone-walls. 97.-A PERSPECTIVE INSTRUMENT. An instrument whereby an ignorant person may take 98.A SEMI-OMNIPOTENT ENGINE. 99-A MOST ADMIRABLE WAY TO RAISE WEIGHTS. 100-A STUPENDIOUS WATERWORK. envious. QUIS. "A wise man," "A man of a pleasing address," COUNCIL OF TEN. that Homer would have celebrated it as not the least re Liverpool, January, 1814. To Correspondents. NEGRO'S EPITAPH-We have been favoured by J-, df Lancaster, with an epitaph upon a faithful black servant, writ ten by the late Rev. Mr. Watson, of Lancaster, and placed over a grave at Sunderland. The sentiment contained in these lines is good; but we apprehend that our corresponde must have mistranscribed the first four lines, because, as they stand in the copy, they are ungrammatical. O Lancaster correspondent may probably see this note, if we request he will communicate on this point with Mr John Smith, who will be at the Lancaster Assizes-W shall here copy the first four lines: "Full sixty years the angry winter's wave Has, thundering, dashed this bleak and barren shore, Since Sambo's head, laid in this lonely grave, Lies mute, and ne'er will hear their turmoil more." The last line is extremely faulty; the verbs are in the wrong tense. It would have better stood, "Lay silent, ne'er to hear the turmoil more." GREEK EPIGRAMS.-We have, in another column, inserted Ashtonian's version of the Epigram from the Anthology: and we have shown his query to our young friend, who, us der the cognomen of A Scool-boy, gave a prior version the same lines. He wishes to say to Ashtonian that he does not comprehend the nature of his question. Ou Westminster scholar quoted the Greek from the Greet Anthology, for the use of the Westminster School, Orfe edition, 1817. In this work, page 4, the word in questi stands vwv, being the genitive case plural of pounds If the word be evous in Ashtonian's copy of the lines, must be wrong, as the line would not scan. Es passant, i it not a vulgarism to say five pound? SONG AND MUSIC.-Mr. T's song is prepared in the type, bet we must defer its appearance for a little while, in order to introduce it in a gratuitous supplement It extends to a much greater length in the type than we expected, as it will occupy a page and a half. We must not so far trespass upon the general reader as to appropriate so large a portion of the Kaleidoscope to music. We shall, therefore, adopt the plan of a half-sheet supplement. GYMNASIA. A correspondent, who signs Gymnasticus, informs us, that he has succeeded in performing the feat described in our last; which we do not at all doubt, as it is simp enough, if the hints that we gave for its performance be tended to. Gymnasticus, however, fancies that he has m an improvement by being able to perform the feat eithe standing on the left leg, as described in our figure, or the right; and he desires we will candidly inform hi whether we ever attained that pitch of eminence? It no very severe trial to our candour to admit that we nend attempted the trick, except in the way we have rec mended; nor are we at all ambitious of succeeding in experiment from which we could derive no addition laurels. There is no greater difficulty in standing up one leg than on the other, and our reason for selecti the left leg to stand upon, in several of our gymnas, that, by naming always the same leg, confusion is avoida and repetition in the explanation. In all the tricks where is is required to spring from one foot, we have unifar chosen the left foot, because, as we observed in the mencement of the series, the best leapers we have met w always sprung from the left foot. the party to whom it was addressed, being from home the time, did not receive it till it was too late to comp with the request it contained. A further communicati is earnestly entreated, and will meet with prompt an grateful attention. SIR,-The answer given by a correspondent, last week, DEAR SIR,-As the Editors of newspapers are almost to the grammatical query, whether the word "are" or the in the daily habit of communicating to the public some word "is" should be made use of in the following sen- running, boxing, or shooting match, I infer that such subtence, viz." The quarrels of lovers is the renewing of jects are not void of interest with their readers. I therefore love," is, in my humble opinion, scarcely satisfactory. take the liberty of furnishing you, for insertion in your inThe point of discussion is not whether it is correct to say structive and entertaining paper, with the particulars of "the result, &c. is" but whether it is correct to say, "the a quoiling match, played no great time back at Wavertree, quarrels, &c. is." I should hope that there are few of the by two Liverpool gentlemen: which, for the number's letter of the 23d March last was duly delivered, b readers of this work who do not know that the first rule in and length of its games deserves to be ranked amongst syntax is, "The verb must agree with its subject in num- the most extraordinary events of a similar nature, which ber and person." In this sentence the word "quarrels" have recently occurred. This single match consisted of (which is undoubtedly the subject of the verb) being in 99 successive games (eleven the game) the whole of which the plural number, the verb must also be plural: it will, were played, according to the strict letter of the agreetherefore, be necessary to use the word "are." I agree ment, without any interruption, except that necessarily with Mr. Philo Abstemious that an alteration is requisite occasioned by taking refreshment, not rest. The distance to make the sentence distinct and clear: but if, instead of agreed on was 21 yards, and the weight of the quoits used inserting a fresh subject to the verb, we simply change the by one of the gentlemen 11 pounds. The parties set to verb, and say "are" or " is followed by;" then the mis- at six o'clock on the Monday morning, and playing take is rendered more evident, and the meaning of the sen- the whole of Monday night, by the aid of candles, comtence plainer, though the grammatical query still remains pleted their most arduous undertaking by half-past three the same as before. The sentence, thus changed, and rec-o'clock on Tuesday afternoon. With the highest opinion tified, will run thus, "The quarrels of lovers are followed by the renewing of love:" and I have no doubt Mr. P. A. will agree that it is incorrect in such a case to make use of the word" is." Yours, &c. J. W. S. will perceive that we have inserted the piece suggest by him. Printed, published, and sold, EVERY TUESDAY, by L OR, Literary and Scientific Mirror. UTILE DULCI." his familiar Miscellany, from which religious and political matters are excluded, contains a variety of original and selected Articles: comprehending Literature, Criticism, Men and Manners, Amusement, Elegant Extracts, Poetry, Anecdotes, Biography, Meteorology, the Drama, Arts and Sciences, Wit and Satire, Fashions, Natural History, &c. &c. forming a handsome Annual Volume, with an Index and Title-page.-Its circulation renders it a most eligible medium for Literary and Fashionable Advertisements.-Regular supplies are forwarded weekly to the Agents. No. 220.-VOL. V. Literature, Criticism, &c. TALES OF A TRAVELLER. TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 14, 1824. We feel occasional pleasure in the recollection, that the Kaleidoscope, five years since, was the first medium through which Mr. Washington Irving's popular Sketch Book was introduced to the British public. We claim no merit to ourselves from the circumstance, except inasmuch as we took some pains to gratify our readers by a first peep at Geoffrey Crayon's entertaining and interesting volume. A valuable friend in the United States supplied us with the parts, in succession, as they appeared; and we were thus enabled to anticipate the metropolitan booksellers-The opinion we formed and expressed of the merits of Mr. Irving's work has been fully confirmed by the manimous verdict of our countrymen, who have been mot a little surprised that an American should have evinced more intimate acquaintance with British antiquities and British customs than any of our native writers. Another work has just appeared by this popular author, under the title of the Tales of a Traveller: comprising Ghost Stories, by a Nervous Gentleman-Literary or Common-life Stories-Buckthorn and his Friends-Stories of Italian Banditti-Stories of American Money Diggers. We have only dipped into this work; but we have seen Enough of it to enable us to say, that it is decidedly inferior to the Sketch Book and Bracebridge Hall. Some of the tales are strangely destitute of interest, and the reader is frequently disappointed by not arriving at an inLeresting catastrophe, which seems so natural as to be inevitable; in the place of which he meets with a tame common-place conclusion. Nothing can be more void of incident or of origiBality than the tale of the Bandit Chieftain; and the story of the Black Fisherman, which afforded scope for a most impressive and appalling termination, is so managed, that the interest diminishes as the narrative proceeds. The specimen which we are about to present to our teaders is of the genuine Monk Lewis class. If it were fot well told, it would be intolerable, it is so absurd and avagant. Mr. Irving cannot, however, be said to be the father of this literary monster, although he certainly the merit of presenting the young imp to the pub in a garb that heightens its original hideousness. To p metaphor, we mean to say, that the plot of the ry is not original, although we cannot, at this moment, elect the name of the work in which we met with its totype a long time ago. We remember, however, at the specte bride in the original had paid the forfeit her natural life at the gallows; and when she visited spouse still bore the mark of the halter on her neck, hich she took special care to conceal by her style of dress. Mr. Irving's Dead Alive stalks from the guillotine to he bridal bed, which some of our readers may think improvement, as the exit of the lady was certainly ore genteel; besides which, it is more interesting, as it Fives scope for that appalling catastrophe-the head falling , and rolling on the floor.-Edit. Kal. THE ADVENTure of a geRMAN STUDENT. On a stormy night, in the tempestuous times of the rench Revolution, a young German was returning to his gings, at a late hour, across the old part of Paris. lightning gleamed, and the loud claps of thunder led through the lofty narrow streets;-but I should first you something about this young German. Gottfried Wolfgang was a young man of good family. had studied for some time at Göttingen, but, being of visionary and enthusiastic character, he had wandered to those wild and speculative doctrines which have so The bewildered German students. His secluded life, his tense application, and the singular nature of his studies, PRICE 3d dered houseless. Perhaps this was some poor mourner whom the dreadful axe had rendered desolate, and who sat here heartbroken on the strand of existence, from which all that was dear to her had been launched into eternity. had an effect on both mind and body. His health was "Wolfgang arrived at Paris at the breaking out of the Revolution. The popular delirium at first caught his enthusiastic mind, and he was captivated by the political and philosophical theories of the day: but the scenes of blood which followed shocked his sensitive nature; disgusted him with society and the world, and made him more than ever a recluse. He shut himself up in a solitary apartment in the Pays Latin, the quarter of students. There in a gloomy street, not far from the monastic walls of the Sorbonne, he pursued his favourite speculations. Sometimes he spent hours together in the great libraries of Paris, those catacombs of departed authors, rummaging among their hoards of dusty and obsolete works in quest of food for his unhealthy appetite. He was, in a manner, a literary goul, feeding in the charnel-house of decayed literature. Wolfgang, though solitary and recluse, was of an ardent temperament, but, for a time, it operated merely upon his imagination. He was too shy and ignorant of the world to make any advances to the fair, but he was a passionate admirer of female beauty, and in his lonely chamber would often lose himself in reveries on forms and faces which he had seen, and his fancy would deck out images of loveliness far surpassing the reality. While his mind was in this excited and sublimated state, he had a dream which produced an extraordinary effect upon him. It was of a female face of transcendent beauty. So strong was the impression it made, that he dreamt of it again and again. It haunted his thoughts by day, his slumbers by night: in fine, he became passionately enamoured of this shadow of a dream. This lasted so long, that it became one of those fixed ideas which haunt the minds of melancholy men, and are at times mistaken for madness. "Such was Gottfried Wolfgang, and such his situation at the time I mentioned. He was returning hoine late one stormy night, through some of the old and gloomy streets of the Marais, the ancient part of Paris. The loud claps of thunder rattled among the high houses of the narrow streets. He came to the Place de Grève, the square where public executions are performed. The lightning quivered about the pinnacles of the ancient Hôtel de Ville, and shed flickering gleams over the open space in front. As Wolfgang was crossing the square, he shrunk back with horror at finding himself close by the guillotine. It was the height of the reign of terror, when this dreadful instrument of death stood ever ready, and its scaffold was continually running with the blood of the virtuous and the brave. It had that very day been actively employed in the work of carnage, and there it stood in grim array amidst a silent and sleeping city, waiting for fresh victims. "Wolfgang's heart sickened within him, and he was turning shuddering from the horrible engine, when he beheld a shadowy form cowering as it were at the foot of the steps which led up to the scaffold. A succession of vivid flashes of lightning revealed it more distinctly. It was a female figure, dressed in black. She was seated on one of the lower steps of the scaffold, leaning forward, her face hid in her lap, and her long dishevelled tresses hanging to the ground, streaming with the rain which fell in torrents. Wolfgang paused. There was something awful in this solitary monument of wo. The female had the appearance of being above the common order. He knew the times to be full of vicissitude, and that many a fair head, which had once been pillowed on down, now wan "Trembling with violent and conflicting emotions, Wolfgang again accosted her. He spoke something of her being exposed at such an hour of the night, and to the fury of such a storm, and offered to conduct her to her friends. She pointed to the guillotine with a gesture of dreadful signification. "I have no friend on earth!' said she. "The heart of the student melted at the words. "If a stranger dare make an offer,' said he, without danger of being inisunderstood, I would offer my humble dwelling as a shelter; myself as a devoted friend. I am friendless myself in Paris, and a stranger in the land; but if my life could be of service, it is at your disposal, and should be sacrificed before harm or indignity should come to you. There was an honest earnestness in the young man's manner that had its effect. His foreign accent, too, was in his favour; it showed him not to be a hacknied inhabitant of Paris. Indeed, there is an eloquence in true enthusiasm that is not to be doubted. The homeless stranger confided herself implicitly to the protection of the student. "He supported her faltering steps across the Pont Neuf, and by the place where the statue of Henry the Fourth had been overthrown by the populace. The storm had abated, and the thunder rumbled at a distance. All Paris was quiet; that great volcano of human passion slumbered for a while, to gather fresh strength for the next day's eruption. The student conducted his charge through the ancient streets of the Pays Latin, and by the dusky walls of the Sorbonne to the great dingy hotel which he inhabited. The old portress who admitted them stared with surprise at the unusual sight of the melancholy · Wolfgang with a female companion. "On entering his apartment, the student, for the first time, blushed at the scantiness and indifference of his dwelling. He had but one chamber-au old-fashioned saloon-heavily carved and fantastically furnished with the remains of former magnificence; for it was one of those hotels in the quarter of the Luxumbourg palace which had once belonged to nobility. It was lumbered with books and papers, and all the usual apparatus of a student, and his bed stood in a recess at one end. "When lights were brought, and Wolfgang had a better opportunity of contemplating the stranger, he was more than ever intoxicated by her beauty. Her face was pale, but of a dazzling fairness, set off by a profusion of raven hair that hung clustering about it. Her eyes were large and brilliant, with a singular expression that approached almost to wildness. As far as her black dress permitted her shape to be seen, it was of perfect symmetry. Her whole appearance was highly striking, though she was dressed in the simplest style. The only thing approaching to an ornament which she wore was a broad black band round her neck, clasped by diamonds. "The perplexity now commenced with the student how to dispose of the helpless being thus thrown upon his protection. He thought of abandoning his chamber to her, and seeking shelter for himself elsewhere. Still he was so fascinated by her charms, there seemed to be such a spell upon his thoughts and senses, that he could not tear himself from her presence. Her manner, too, was singular and unaccountable. She spoke no more of the guillotine. Her grief had abated. The attentions of the student had first won her confidence, and then, apparently, her heart. She was evidently an enthusiast like himself, and enthusiasts soon understand each other. "In the infatuation of the moment Wolfgang avowed his passion for her. He told her the story of his mysterious dream, and how she had possessed his heart before he had ever seen her. She was strangely affected by his recital, and acknowledged to have felt an impulse toward him equally unaccountable. It was the time for wild theory and wild actions. Old prejudices and superstitions were done away; every thing was under the sway of the ⚫ Goddess of reason.' Among other rubbish of the old times, the forms and ceremonies of marriage began to be considered superfluous bonds for honourable minds. Social compacts were the vogue. Wolfgang was too much of a theorest not to be tainted by the liberal doctrines of the day. Why should we separate?' said he; our hearts are united; in the eye of reason and honour we are as one. What need is there of sordid forms to bind high souls together?' 64 6 The stranger listened with emotion: she had evidently received illumination at the same school. "You have no home nor family,' continued he; let me be every thing to you, or rather let us be every thing to one another. If form is necessary, form shall be observed-there is my hand. I pledge myself to you for ever.' "For ever?' said the stranger solemnly. "For ever!' repeated Wolfgang. : "The stranger clasped the hand extended to her Then I am yours,' murmured she, and sunk upon his bosom. The next morning, the student left his bride sleeping, and sallied forth at an early hour to seek more spacious apartments, suitable to the change in his situation. When he returned, he found the stranger lying with her head hanging over the bed, and one arm thrown over it. He spoke to her, but received no reply. He advanced to awaken ber from her uneasy posture. On taking her hand, it was cold-there was no pulsation; her face was pallid and ghastly. In a word, she was a corpse. "Horrified and frantic, he alarmed the house. A scene of confusion ensued. The police was summoned. As the officer of police entered the room, he started back on beholding the corpse. "Who show their works for profit and for praise," or supply his wants, then his heart is indeed ready to sink subject) seem alike determinately silent. This lack of cri within him; then is presented a scene which calls forth ticism, so injurious to the artists, the most strenuous exertions of benevolence.-In a large and populous town like Liverpool, numerous are the instances of this distressing nature; and although the com- and so unlike what has occurred during other exhibitions, passion of individuals might obtain some mitigation for a (particularly the last, when the different editors vied with few of these cases, yet nothing could so well supply the each other in publishing the observations either of themmeans of remedying the various and extensive evils exist-selves or correspondents,) has furnished grave subject of ing among the poor, as the establishment of those public hospitals where advice and skill, medicine and accommo- remark for those who are anxious to have the public at dation, are provided to meet the exigencies of the sufferer. tention directed to their favourite artists, and various have Such, doubtless, were the generous sentiments which been the reasons assigned for it; but one which is calcu animated the founders of this Institution. With a libe-lated to do much injury to the arts, and which I regret t rality well worthy of our imitation, they erected a noble edifice, into which they invited the sons of disease and say appears to be the prevailing one, is, that the presen sorrow to enter: there the anguish of pain has found re- exhibition is so much inferior to the last, that it is not consi lief, and the poor man has enjoyed the benefit of that dered worthy of critical notice. That this opinion is errone medical skill and of those comforts which, in many coun- ous, will be freely admitted by all who are competent to en tries, fall to the lot of the rich alone. Nor did the foun- ter into the merits of several of the pictures exhibited, and ders restrict their views to the state of Liverpool as then existing, but extending their benevolent wishes to a distant who will take the trouble to judge for themselves; bu period, they established their Institution on a scale so there are so many who, to spare themselves that labour, plac comprehensive as for a considerable time to keep pace implicit reliance on the opinions of others, or, as the poe with the growing prosperity of the town. That prosperity expresses it, "of pictures judge by other people's eyes has at length, however, exceeded their most sanguine ex- that however absurd it may seem to some, or however un pectations, and has caused such an increase of the popu lation, that the former buildings are now inadequate to necessary it appear to the artists, (who might deem it a the many urgent cases of distress which require admission infringement on their proper dignity to contradict a state. into the House. It has, therefore, been found necessary ment so palpably untrue,) it still seems to me necessary to erect a new Infirmary, which is calculated for the re-it should be publicly contradicted. It is true, I must in ception of from 200 to 220 patients, and which will, it is candour confess, that the exhibition this year, taken as hoped, be long found sufficient for the relief of all those whose cases require such assistance. It will also form an whole, has not answered my expectations; but this i additional ornament to our town, now distinguished by so more owing to the scarcity of good subjects than from an many monuments of the liberality and public spirit of its want of merit in those exhibited; and, indeed, it grows a inhabitants. But here it may be proper to observe, that, much into favour on repeated visits, that I have had rea as the object of the truly charitable is to relieve distress, son to conclude my first disappointment was owing to m and not merely to gratify the taste, the Committee on whom the management of the new building devolved, hopes having been too high raised, and my expectation would probably not have considered themselves justified too sanguinely excited by the talent displayed last ye in erecting so handsome an edifice as the new Infirmary, made me expect more than probability would justify thi had they not (in exchange for the old buildings, and the I had been informed before the opening of the exhibition land behind them) obtained so liberal a grant from the that the pictures sent in were numerous, so much so, the Corporation, whose munificent improvements have, espe- several had been rejected; I was therefore much surprise. cially of late, contributed greatly to the healthiness, the convenience, and the beauty of the town. Yet, notwith- to find the space unoccupied greater than at any former standing the extent of this grant, a large sum will be re- exhibition, and on inquiring of a friend, (more initiated quired to complete and furnish the new House. This in academic secrets than I am) he assured me my infor sum, if taken from the permanent funds of the Charity, would cause a most serious diminution, and must occasion mation was correct, but believed the subjects rejected we a correspondent decrease in the annual income. The copies. Yet this could not, I should think, be the case Committee, therefore, rely on the liberality of the friends else it reflects little credit on the discernment of the com of the Institution, that they will, by a generous effort, not mittee, since copies still remain; and if it was for want only provide the requisite amount in donations, but also, merit they were rejected, they must have been wretche They tried to soothe him, but in vain. He was pos- by new and increased annual subscriptions, meet that aug-indeed to be worse than a few that disgrace the prese sessed with the frightful belief that an evil spirit had re-mentation of expense which, notwithstanding the strictest animated the dead body to ensnare him. He went dis- economy, must necessarily attend the extension of the exhibition. I could, too, find fault with the Pictor tracted, and died in a mad-house. Charity. At periods when the commerce of Liverpool arrangement, (an important feature in an exhibition) as was in a less flourishing state, and agriculture was also is superintended by a committee consisting of the to depressed, the subscriptions naturally decreased; but now, when the town is rising so considerably in magnitude and able artists, and consequently should display a depth commercial prosperity, and when the agricultural inte- judgment sufficient to convey some idea of their skill s rests are likewise improving, the Committee doubt not ability. That the distribution of the pictures in the pr their fellow-townsmen, and the neighbouring gentlemen, sent fails to do this, I scruple not to assert, and am ca will make their charitable exertions keep pace with the vinced a more skilful arrangement would have much in increase of their own comforts and enjoyments. May they freely extend a liberal hand, and may they themselves proved the general effect of the exhibition, since there experience the truth of that encouraging declaration, dic- neither regularity of arrangement nor judgment as to th tated by Divine wisdom and benevolence, "It is more distribution, where the light would be such as to a blessed to give than to receive." with the intended effect. I should not blame the m bers of the academy for securing the best situations their own works, when this could be done without inj ing the necessary order and regularity of the arrangemen but to sacrifice every other consideration for it, is, I th here ?' Great heaven!' cried he, how did this woman come Do you know any thing about her?' said Wolfgang eagerly. Do I,' exclaimed the police officer;' she was guillotined yesterday.' "He stepped forward; undid the black colour round the neck of the corpse, and the head rolled on the floor! The student burst into a phrenzy. The fiend! the fiend has gained possession of me!' shrieked he; I am lost for ever!' his narrative. Here the old gentlemen with the haunted head finished “And is this really a fact ?' said the inquisitive gen tleman. A fact not to be doubted,' replied the other. I had it from the best authority. The student told it me himself. I saw him in a mad-house at Paris.*' "The latter part of the above story is founded on an anecdote related to me, and said to exist in print in French I have not met with in print." The Philanthropist. REPORT OF THE COMMITTEE OF THE LIVERPOOL Among the numerous advantages of affluence, there is none which excites more lively gratitude to Heaven than the means which it affords of obtaining advice and assistance in the hour of sickness. When the wound inflicted on a single limb spreads agonizing pains through the whole frame, or a disease which we cannot comprehend, fills us with apprehensions of fatal consequences, we raise an imploring eye towards those whom science has blessed the drooping spirits; the comforts of domestic life are with the power of administering relief. Their aid raises tasted with a higher relish, and the voice of love and friendship is more consoling and delightful. But when to the pains of sickness are added the horrors of poverty; when the sufferer pines away in obscurity, unseen and unheard; when no kind relative is near to soothe his sorrows Fine Arts. [See a note to correspondents.] ON THE LIVERPOOL EXHIBITION OF PAINTINGS, &c justly blamable. That this has been done, will be a TO THE EDITOR. "What rage for fame attends both great and small, mitted when it is known that the entire centre on ea side of the room is taken up by the members' pictur those sent in by strangers being placed above or below, in fact any where, just (I should conceive) as they ca to hand. This, as may be supposed, causes a most in SIR, That the exhibition of the Liverpool Royal Aca-gular appearance; no matching either of frames, sulje demy is now open, we are told by the newspaper adver- or sizes, (though these things are particularly attended but was it not for the information they convey, we might subject, a landscape, a portrait, a fruit piece, and a dra tisements and the large bills placarded about the town; in the London exhibitions,) and thus we have an histori to this time have remained ignorant that an opportunity ing, each of very different dimensions, placed by ca was now afforded of marking the progress of the arts in other. The appearance, as may naturally be expected, this town, by a survey of the works of our artists, since the ridiculous, and should serve as a caution at another ex public prints (the proper vehicles of information on this bition. T It was, I believe, nerally wished and expected that nity, Military and Naval Officers, Lord Mayors of London, the portrait of his Royal Highness the Duke of York, Aldermen, Sheriffs of Counties, Common Council Men, &c. Lately received from London, would have appeared in this fessions, the duties of their respective offices is pointed out, exhibition. I, amongst others, expected to see it here, illustrated with many interesting historical particulars of and felt much surprise and disappointment at not meeting their origin and contiguity. At the end of each section the with it, since I am aware it would have added consider- reader is instructed how to address each by his proper title, able attraction, and, no doubt, have increased the attend-in speaking and by letter. The distinctions in the crowns of the various grades of nobility is also shown, by engravings, ance: indeed, I think it might even yet prove serviceable, which we shall copy as we proceed with the work. We thank and I am not aware that the Common Council have any C. for the loan of it; and shall proceed forthwith to avail ourselves of his politeness. objections to its being exhibited. &c. In the accounts of each of these different ranks or pro Having now exhausted my stock of complaints, it is proper I should enter into the merits of the collection this year exhibited; and this I am most willing to do, it being at all times more agreeable to me to commend than to car blame, where I can do so consistently with truth and candour; and, indeed, there are several pictures in this collection that will afford ample scope for commendation; pictures of great excellence, and that would grace the finest collections of modern art. To these I will speedily refer, naming (as they occur in the catalogue) such as I deem most deserving of attention, and briefly pointing out their particular merits. I may here observe, that my intention is more to provoke criticism than to set up myself as a public censor, an office for which I have neither inclination or ability; and if any one else, better qualified, had offered, I would willingly have remained silent. The first, both in number and merit, is, No. 1. Ulswater, from Patterdale (D. Williamson,) a most delightful landscape, and, in my opinion, as fine as any in the collection: for rich mellowness of tint, and a beautiful masterly style of handling, this artist stands unrivalled. A little more force in the fore-grounds would, I think, assist the distant objects, and add greatly to the general effect of his landscapes. A BOOK, explaining the RANKS and DIGNITIES [LONDON: PRINTED 1809.] THE KING. The supreme executive power of these kingdoms, says Lawyers say, the King of England is a mixed person, crown: parliaments; and may refuse his assent to any bill passed But though he be entrusted with the whole executive court; for justice must be administered according to the power of the law, yet he cannot sit in judgment in any powers committed and distributed to the several courts. The law also ascribes to 2. Eli receiving the infaut Samuel. The finest picture in the exhibition. The figure of Eli is the most prominent; the others being made, most properly, subordinate to it. The attitude of this figure, and the expression of the face, are admirably pourtrayed. The devout adoration of the father is well depicted. This picture has evidently been painted some time, but age has not impaired its laws and customs of the same? The King or Queen shall the king, likewise, there can be no negligence, and there beauties. 5. Portrait (G. Sheffield.) This gentleman's portraits es very considerable merit: his attitudes are easy, yure well drawn, and painted with a degree of freedom eldom to be found in the productions of so young an The colouring is the worst part about them, though by no means bad; it is of too cold a tone, and scarce #ficiently opaque: a little study of the old masters would ble him to remedy this defect, and prove of essential #nefit to him. No. 163 (portrait of a gentleman) is his But, as I am fearful of exceeding the limits you gene- A CONNOISSEUR. The Phænix. The Archbishop, or Bishop, shall say, will you solemnly promise and swear to govern the people of this kingdom of England, and the dominions thereto belonging, according to the statutes in parliament agreed on, and the say, I solemnly promise so to do. Archbishop, or Bishop-Will you to your power cause law and justice, in mercy, to be executed in all your judg ments? King or Queen, I will. Archbishop, or Bishop-Will you to the utmost of your power maintain the laws of God, the true profession of the gospel, and the Protestant reformed religion esta blished by the law? And will you preserve unto the bishops and clergy of this realm, and to the churches com. mitted to their charge, all such rights and privileges as by law do or shall appertain unto them or any of them? King or Queen, All this I promise to do. After this, the King or Queen, laying his or her hand upon the holy gospels, shall say, The things which I have here before promised, I will perform and keep: so help me God. And then shall kiss the book. One of the principal bulwarks of our liberty, is the certain and definite limitation of the king's prerogative, the extent and restrictions of which are marked out with the greatest clearness. But in the exertion of those powers which the law has given him, the king is irresistible and absolute. He is considered by the laws of England as the in virtue of this authority, he convenes, prorogues, rehead and supreme governor of the national church; and, strains, regulates, and dissolves all ecclesiastical synods or conovcations. He has the supreme right of patronage over all ecclesiastical benefices; and if they are not presented to within the time prescribed, their lapse becomes the advantage of the crown. In regard to foreign concerns, the king is the delegate or representative of his people. He The useful little work, which we are about to present to has power, by his prerogative, without any act of parliareaders in weekly portions, has been presented to us for ment, to make war or peace, conclude treaties, grant safe Durpose of reprinting it, in whole or in part; and, upon conducts, give commissions for raising and regulating ag over its contents, we are of opinion that we shall fleets and armies, as well as for erecting, manning, torn a very acceptable service by laying the greater part of and governing forts, and other places of strength. He tents before our readers; because, although it professes can prohibit the exportation of arms and ammunition e intended chiefly for the instruction of young persons, it out of the kingdom; can dispose of magazines, castles, ares much useful information on subjects, the knowledge ships, public moneys, &c.; and all that is done in regard *which is in constant requisition, although much neglected. to foreign powers by the royal authority, is the act of the the work treats of the functions, rank, and precedency of whole nation. He has the sole power of sending ambasKing, Lord Chancellor, Dukes, Earls, Viscounts, Bishops, sadors to foreign states, and receiving ambassadors at arom, Knights, Judges, Barristers at Law, Doctors of Divi- home. He convokes, adjourns, prorogues, and dissolves He is not in law liable to As the king is declared to be the supreme head in matters both civil and ecclesiastical; so no suit can be brought against him even in civil matters, because no court can have jurisdiction over him. the king, in his political capacity, absolute perfection. The king can do no wrong. By which ancient and fundamental maxim we are not to understand, that every transaction of government is of course just and lawful; but that whatever is exceptionable in the conduct of public affairs is not to be imputed to the king, nor is he answerable for it personally to his people; and farther, that the prerogative of the crown extends not to do any injury. It is created for the benefit of the people, and therefore cannot be exerted to their prejudice. In fore no delay will bar his right. In the king also there can be no infamy, stain, or corruption of blood. And him. His death is termed his demise, because the crown the law ascribes a kind of perpetuity, or immortality to is thereby demised to another. death, being a corporation of himself that lives for ever. his heir is king, fully and absolutely, without any coroThere is no interregnum; but the moment one king dies, nation, ceremony, &c. To these it may be added, that, by the law, the king is said, in a manner to be every where in all courts of judicature, which he alone has the right of erecting, and therefore cannot be nonsuited. power of issuing proclamations is vested in the king alone, considered as the fountain of justice. The laws make it high treason barely to imagine or intend the death of the king; and because the destruction of the king may ensue that of his great counsellors or officers, it is felony in any of the king's subjects to conspire even that. Some things, however, there are which the king cannot do. He cannot divest himself or successor of any part of the regal prerogative or authority. And, in particular, there are two things which he cannot do, without the consent of parliament-the making of new laws, and the raising of new taxes. The king cannot dispense with the laws, nor do any thing contrary to law. In England the law is as much superior to the king, as to any of his subjects: and the obedience of the king of England to the laws, is his greatest glory, while it is the security of the rights and liberties of his people, who are the greatest as well as the freest people on the face of the earth, merely because their sovereigns are obliged to live in subjection to the written laws of the land. The The title of Grace was first given to our kings about the time of Henry IV. and that of Majesty first to Henry VIII. The title of his present Majesty is, George the Third, King of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, Defender of the Faith, Sovereign of the Orders of the Garter, Thistle, Bath, and St. Patrick; Duke and Elector of Brunswick Lunenburgh, Bishop of Osnaburg, and Arch Treasurer of the Holy Roman Empire. [To be continued.] |