No. 55. The Modern Cornaro 56. On the Decline and Fall of Serenading 57. Common use of Plate in the time of Henry VIII. 58. Waxen Figures of some of the Kings of France 59. Lawyer's Fee. 60. A desultory Chapter on Eating, with Anecdotes of a few distinguished Gourmans and Gourmets 61. When a Stranger enters a room 63. The Ceremonial of making the King's bed 64. The Aphorisms of Hippocrates 142 ib. € 160 69. Economy in Queen Anne's Dresses, with a Few 70. Therapeutic Effects of the Passions 71. Not Particular. 72. A Modest Request 78. Pressing to death, and Praying and Fasting. 79. A Merciful Schoolmaster ib. BOOK OF TABLE-TALK. 1. SANDOWNE CASTLE. My limbs are bow'd, though not with toil, For they have been a dungeon's spoil; Are bann'd and barr'd-forbidden fare. Prisoner of Chillon. ONE evening in August last I was sitting on the beach close by Sandowne Castle. The evening was so mild that I had come out with the intention of bathing; but as the state of the tide was somewhat unfavourable, I fell into some doubt on the subject; and, while in that state of mind, was amusing myself with looking at the numerous ships then riding at anchor in the Downs, and from time to time gathering pebbles from the countless mass of them around me, and throwing them down the beach; in a vain effort to recover an art in which I had excelled in my boyhood, that of being a good shot with a stone-in technical phrase, of" shying well." While I was thus employed, a man came out of the castle gate, crossed the drawbridge, and passed me. In passing, he stopped a moment, and looking towards the Goodwin Sands lying beyond the Downs, he said, "The sands are very visible this evening, sir." "Are they more so than usual?" "Yes, sir." "What state are they in now? I mean, firm footing on them ?" VOL. II. is there a B "O yes; you might play cricket on them. But when the tide returns, they will again become a quicksand.” "Can any one see Sandowne Castle now?" "O yes, sir, I have just come out of it. The serjeant who takes care of it will be very happy to show you any part of it you may wish to see.' "I suppose there is little to be seen ?" "Not a great deal, sir." "What is the age of it?" He mentioned a date about two centuries wide of the true one. With that he wished me good evening, and passed on; and I resolved, instead of taking a cold bath that evening, to take a look at Sandowne Castle. I crossed the drawbridge; and, passing under the dark portal, where a portcullis appears to have once been, and where there are three large holes from above, probably for the purpose of pouring shot or molten lead upon the assailants, I entered a sort of court-yard, which runs (I think) quite round, between the ramparts and the central tower, which together form the castle. I made my way by a ladder stair to the ramparts, where I found a serjeant of artillery sitting upon a gun,—which by the fleur-de-lis upon it seemed once to have belonged to the King of France,-in conversation with one or two men belonging to the preventive service (as it is called), who likewise lodged in the castle. Sandowne Castle was built, together with Deal and Walmer Castles, by Henry the Eighth, for the protection of that coast. None of these castles are of great extent; and they seem to have been designed as a sort of batteries, -the martello towers of the sixteenth century. The walls are about thirteen feet thick; and the apartments are said to be damp; that is, the evidence with which I am acquainted on the subject is in the proportion of two to one in favour of damp. The serjeant of artillery who has the charge of Sandowne Castle told me, to the best of my recollection, that the place was quite dry. On the other hand, the housekeeper at Walmer Castle said that Lord Liverpool's books were spoiled there by the damp: and Mrs. Lucy Hutchinson, the wife of Colonel Hutch inson, one of King Charles's judges, who was imprisoned about a year and died in Sandowne Castle, bears witness to the same effect, of damp at Sandowne; to the situation of which, in fact, low and close to the sea, she attributes her husband's death. The serjeant showed me a picture, as he said, of the "famous Colonel Huskisson, who condemned King Charles." 66 “I dare say, sir," added the loyal artilleryman, “ he I did it all for the best." "No doubt," I replied; "but was not the colonel's name Hutchinson, not Huskisson ?” The man of war looked for a moment with a mingled expression of wonder, pity, and contempt in his countenance, at the individual whose daring ignorance led him to dispute the authenticity of that legend which had been so often told without a murmur of contradiction. "No, sir," he said, with the good-humoured smile with which a benevolent and superior nature checks presumption, reproves ignorance, and enlightens darkness, -"no, sir, not Hutchinson; Huskisson, Huskisson, sir. Here, sir, is his picture.” I looked at it; that is, as well as the dim twilight and the dingy condition of the portrait would enable me to do. "But there is no name on the picture," I observed. He looked carefully, but could find none. "The fact is," said I, "I have read the memoirs of this man, written by his wife, who was with him here. that is, she lived in Deal, and walked over to see her husband every day; the governor would not let her live in the castle and I assure you the name was Hutchinson." My worthy friend looked at me again, and I perceived that my display of scholarship had made some impression upon him. Well, sir," he said, "it's likely his wife would know his name." "Do you know which was the apartment occupied by the colonel?" I asked. 66 ، It is at the bottom of the tower, sir; I will show |