he had twenty thousand pounds of bad debts besides. "Then," said I, (shrewdly, as I thought,) "I suppose he'll not be long before he is in the Gazette." "Not a bit,” replied he; “if one customer out of three pays him he'll be all right, you may depend upon it.' Well, one of his skip-jacks takes my measure, but upon my wishing to examine the cloth, and to beat him down in price, the groom of the chambers shook his head, aud, putting his finger to his lips, as much as to tell me to hold my tongue, he said, "Leave all that to Mr. Vanschwillenverkenn, (a German,) and he will make a perfect dandy of you." "Well," said I, "if he don't make a fool of me it's all very well;" when (would you believe it ?) the two rascals winked at each other, and laugh ed at my expence. I soon got back to Harley street, where there was the devil to pay; aunt Polly had forbid me the house, but the ironmonger was less ironhearted than his wife; he said I must be borne with for a little while, and pacified ma'am by paying her dressmaker's bill; indeed, Nobbs would be a plain, simple, stupid, good fellow enough, and a rare knowing tradesman, if aunt Polly had not filled his head, and turned his brain by visiting Paris, and by polishing him up so, that the's no weight or value left about him. It was at last decided that I should get a severe lecture from his worship, as to behaving myself like agentleman, which I was obliged to put up with, and I was desired not to speak a word unless when spoken to, and then only yes and no; and I was to take my place at table next the French governess, which was making a mute of me at once, as I cannot parlez vous one word of their gibberish, and I was to submit to have my hair put in papers like a lady, to make it curl, and was forbid to join in the dance after dinner with the young ladies, as I was to have a dancingmaster come to me next day lastly I was ordered to dress myself to the best advantage, for which purpose a new suit of clothes came in five hours after my measure was taken, and I found half a dozen pair of dress-shoes, sent from Mr. Hoby's, the butler having taken an old shoe of mine to serve as to size; I now went up the back stairs to my dressing-room, and had the happiness to meet the pretty lady's maid, and to give her a salute, which put me in high spirits for the rest of the day, in spite of the continual snubbing which I got from my aunt. Now I would give you an account of our gorgeous feast, and of the company, and of my mistakes and miseries, and of aunt's most extraordinary dress, but I have got to call at a dozen places, so, my dear George, I must bid you adieu; pray take particular care of my fighting cock, and my black bitch Fanny; let mother know that I am well, but don't say a word of aunt Polly's mad goings on, nor of her unkindness to me; it would break mother's heart, so mum upon that subject. Your's, very truly. GILES GREENTREE. BRUTALITY OF LONDON MOBS, Contrasted with those of Paris. I DON'T like being elbowed by a crowd anywhere-but that, which we call a "mob" is to be found only in England or in Ireland. The whole temperament of the man of the "third estate," and I may add of the second, (to say nothing of the first)—his pas sions-wishes-pleasures-dispositions are perfectly opposite in Paris and in London. In London, scourged and outlawed, trammelled and fettered, as it is, the spirit of personal quarrel meets you at every corner, with an invitation to be shot, or have your bones broken. The labouring poor live like fox-hounds in a kennel, whom nothing but the huntsman's whip keeps from tearing one another in pieces. At present battles seem to be the only end, in their own view, that the people were born for. It is curious to observe, how deeply and generally this disposition imbues the national character-every man seems watching in society for an opportunity to dance a hornpipe on the body of his fellow. You never in your life walked as a stranger into a full coffeeroom, or passed a trio, (single-handed,) lounging in the street, that you did not feel that your safety from affront lay in your power to knock down the artist who should offer it to you. 66 Your Sunday clerk pokes your Sunday 'prentice; your Sunday shoemaker pushes both into the kennel; to have a hundred pounds a-year more than " the gentleman at next door," (and take away the Old Bailey,) is to have your house fired, or at least your windows broken. Cosi fan tutti !-you cau only perceive the extent to which the right of force applies in England, by residing on the Continent. We live in the interchange not of good offices, but violent blows. The first resort throughout the nation at large, seems to be the course which I once heard recommended to a man in Fleet Street who was fight BRUTALITY OF LONDON MOBS. ing,- Spit in your fist, and go in !" Your hackney-coachman demands double his fare; and, even when you submit, will call you "horse" into the bargain. Your waterman has much ado to keep him from drowning himself, that he may at the same time give the man who hires him a "ducking." A lamplighter throws his spare oil about jocosely; urchins pelt each other with mud, that a chance splash may fall upon the passenger; itinerant dealers collar you as they offer their wares for sale; butcher-boys and mail-coach drivers run people down for their amusement as well as for their convenience; women (in the street) desire to embrace you, and overpower you with execrations when you decline; and watchmen take you up, (no crime committed,) growing rampant in the exercise of their authority! Now, in France, the "contract social" is of a very different character. Your Englishman, (especially after the second class,) like Duke Richard, "has no brother." Pass a market, a wharf, or even a merrymaking-the abiders not only curse you, but they curse one another. The oath among us is not an excrescence or a garnish, but an integral and important member in every sentence. We have as many ways of sending a soul to hell in London, as they have of sending an egg to table (and more variety in them) at Paris. Our London carmen-firemen-boxers -mail-coach guards-and Thamesstreet porters the whole globe could not match them for figure, insolence, courage, or ill-humour!-I heard a fellow the day before I left Londonhe was a navigator" digging out a sewer in Clare-market, and an inhabitant was in doubt whether the foundation of his house might not be affected, "No, no," said my friend, with the greatest coolness, "not yetno danger at all yet. But, when I get over on the other side," pointing, and working onwards, “ you'll come rattling down, all the row of you, as nice as can be." In France there are no battles among the lower orders; few quarrels ; and a little ill language goes a great way. Your domestic servant has the art to be perfectly familiar, and yet never disrespectful; and this lies by no means in his acquiescence, of course in your opinions, but in the tact and good humour with which he contradicts you. The same feeling prevails-an absence of heart-burning between rich and poor-in all the minor ordinary trans 327 actions of life. Your hackney-coachman takes his fare with a short bowremercie, for the little pour boire-and there is kindness on both sides. The postilions are spoiled by the English travellers, but there is still the dispo-, sition to be bon enfant. If you quarrel, the thing is forgotten in ten minutes, (while an Englishman would sulk over it for ten days;) they laugh, 'put on" afresh, and seem to wish to keep in charity for all sakes. So, the drayman-though they have no rule for "sides" in driving, does not block up a street at any time for his diversion. So the man whom you sit next make himself as large as possible in to in the pit of the theatre, does not order to incommode you. FRENCH MODE OF ENCOURAGING HIS- St. Geneviève, has since been created a struck from the list of Royal Academiciring this work by working for engravers, ans, and obliged to support himself duafter he returned exhausted to his house. Mr. West left his family his Government, and died embarrased.-three last great works, unpurchased by Professorship of the Royal Academy.— Mr. Fuzeli escaped from want into the Mr. Proctor, who gained both prizes for sculpture and painting, was starved to death in an obscure lodging in Clareting 20 years to bistory, and having his market:-and Mr. Haydon, after devohis plasters, prints, and books of art, works applauded by thousands, lost all was thrown into the King's Bench, and has taken to portrait painting to get his bread! And all this happens in a country, where there are Academies and Institutions to nourish young students in the highest branches, founded for that purpose; while France does not let her efforts for the art end with. her Academies, but as soon as young men give evidence that they have beneAcademies, they receive honors, and if fited by the instruction obtained in their they ask 2,0001. for a work, are not accused of conceit, but get 4,000/. CHRONOLOGY FOR THE YEAR 1934. MARCH. 29. Mr. Pocock, of Brighton, sets saft from the Suspension Pier for Lowdon in the Royal Gift, built by desire of the King, measuring five feet six inches in length, tonnage four cwt. that the phoïtashwagorie lastern is fixed où a smart and firm table of various dimensions, which either slides silently in groves on the floor of the apartment or stage, or runs on a smooth floor, on 'small solid wheels, covered with thick cloth, and that the whole apparatus is 30. Two young men, named Henry and Thomas Large, burnt to death th enclosed in a bag or covering of dark the cago at Lewisham, the straw of coloured cloth, får order to prevent any their beds having caught fire from some accidental escape of light, which would coals with which they had been replied to warm themselves. Henry Large had greatly infure, If not totally destroy the been committed for throwing oil of vi- Illusive effect of the exhibition. Two triot over the gown of a maid-servant other optical deceptions, of singular and his brother, out of compassion, had accompanied him. Their efforts to extricate themselves were most desperate. Death of the Duchess of Devonshire at Rome. She was celebrated in Italy for her patronage of the Fine Arts. $1. Arrival at Buenos Aires of the British Consuls to the Independent States of South America. The Consuls were most favourably received. Great alarni at Cape Coast Castle in consequence of the advance of the Agliantees. (April in our next.) THE PORTFOLIO. THE CONVERZATIONE In the dimensions of the phantom of figure exhibited are to be increased, the whole instrument is gradually drawn from the screen on which the figures are thrown, while, at the same time, and at a corresponding rate, the smaller lens F is by the rack H drawn nearer to the painting. If, on the contrary, the figure is to become smaller, or seem to recede, the whole instrument is made to advance towards the screen, while, at the same time, the small lens F is made gradually to increase its distance from the lamp, and advance towards the outer extremity of its tube. It should be understood that in this experiment, and extremely impressive effect, formed a part of this gentleman's successful and extraordinary exhibitions, which shall be the subject of our next. The lower bgare of our Engraving représents an arrangement for a magić lantern of great power and effect, proposed by Gravesandi, a mathematician and philosopher, about 150 years since, and which, by a singular negligence of the instrument, hus seldom or never, except in a few solitary instances in the bands of the curious, been acted upon. A is a glass or metallic reflector; B the lamp or candle; C a double convex lens of five inches diameter, and 12 inches focal length; D a double convex lens of the same focal length, but of three inches and a half diameter; F & double convex lens of 48 inches focal length, and one and a half inches diameter. The lenses D and Fare fixed in one tube G G at a distance of three inches from each other, with a díaphragm or shutter midway between them, and having an opening in its centre equal to the diameter of the lens F. The tube G G slides to and fro, with the tube H containing the larger lens C, and a groove II immediately before the lens Č receives the painting. Some of our young readers might profitably and pleasantly employ their mechanical abilities in the construction of this powerful instrument, purchasing their lenses at an optician's, and taking themselves the assistance of the carpen ACCOUNT OF THE ORIGINAL PHANTASMAGORIA. ter and the tinman, in the general arrangement and disorganization. My young readers are in possession of the actual particulars of the two constructions of the instrument which are the most effective and easy of management. We shall need but one other explanatory sketch to enable us to re 329 vert to the account of Philipsthal's la- The annexed Cut represents the Phantasmagoria of Philipsthal, completely arranged and in action, in explanation of what has been already said of it. A is in this view the instrument itself, under the arrangement of parts and construction already described; B the small stand or table on which it is supported; bb the small wheels or rollers on which it is made to move backwards or forwards with respect to the scene, between the grooved guide pieces ec. D is the semi-transparent scene itself, (the mode of preparing which we shall presently particularly describe,) and E is the wondering audience. We may now return to our account of De Philipsthal. In the course of the evening figures of celebrated men were thus exhibited with curious transformations such as the bead of Franklin, which was suddenly changed to a skull, and these were rapidly succeeded by phantoms, skeletons, and various terrific figures, which, instead of seeming to recede and then vanish, as those before exhibited, were (by enlargement) made suddenly to advance, to the surprise and astonishment of the audience, and then disappear by seeming either to pass with a rapid sweep over the heads of the spectators, or to sink directly before them into the ground. This part of the exhibition, which by the agitation of the spectators appeared to be much the most impressive, had less effect with me than the receding of the figures, doubtless because it was more easy for me to imagine the screen to be withdrawn than brought forward. But among the young people who were with me the judgments were various. Some thought The exhibition of Phantasmagoria may seem trifling, and fitted but for the young, and such as seek but the latter tual. He has failed to immortalise the kind of amusement. Let us not, how ever, deceive ourselves; as experiments leading directly to the developement of curious and important optical phenomena, they require our serious attention; as exhibitions leading as distinctly to important and useful speculation on spectral appearances, they still more seriously demand our countenance and our assiduous cultivation. I would humbly propose it as my opinion, and not without a confident expectation that many others may think with me, that no subject is beneath the consideration of a philosopher. The most estimable philosophical characters have been, of all other men, ever the most studious of the daily and apparently the trifling occurrences of life. Newton's attention was attracted by the fall of an apple, before he extended the theory of gravitation to the moon, and thence explained the laws of the universe. Soap bubbles and the prism were the playthings of children before he selected them as instruments to analyse the rays of light, and thence determine the construction of telescopes, which now penetrate the depths of space and bring myriads of new worlds within our admiring gaze, and within the reach of our speculations. Franklin, by the kite of a child, conducted lightning from the clouds to the earth: and, in a word, it must appear to us that the most beautiful and the greatest discoveries have been made, not by those who could command the expensive and ornamental apparatus of showy experiment, but by such as were in the habit of close attention to the means, the agents, and the operations which are constantly performing around us, and are frequently ill understood, only be cause considered trifling, and therefore habitually neglected. (To be continued.) Spirit of the Magazines. THE LOVES OF THE CITS. EVERY age has its peculiarities, and every tongue its theme. Mine is Love. What more intellectual? What more calculated to inspire the strains of the poet, or to awaken the tuneful lyre of the muse? Moore and Love will sound in unison when the urn shall contain the source from whence those divine effusions have sprung, which have so much delighted us in the present age. But there are many kinds of love; and Moore has treated only of the intellec honest effusions of the simple boy who sweeps the grocer's shop in the morning, and coos, by the pale moonlight, 'to the trull of all-work. He has left us ignorant of the tender billets penned by the linen-draper's shopman, after daily labour, to the simpering stitcher at a stayshop. He leads us at once from the coy simplicity of nature to the highest stage of refinement. Without stopping to take in his course the intermediate steps by which the sublime pinnacle is ascended, he wafts us, as on the wings of a cherub, to the loftiest height, where we soar, as the lark, until tired of our celestial intrusion, we are content, like it, to drop to the original lowness of mortality. It is left to the citizen to record the deeds of love of which this vast metropolis is the theatre. And what more amusing, more instructive, than the complication in the movements of the blind deity's votaries? Kate the cook has long fixed her amorous eyes on Billy the butler; but Billy's ambition soars higher, and he courts an alliance with his washerwoman's daughter. 'Tis in vain Kate prepares him a round of toast nightly to give a zest to his cup of bohea. He eats the toast, but sues not the hand that made it. Less obdurate is the heart of the grocer's apprentice. His daily toil performed-the shutters closed—the lights extinguished--he casts away the neat apron in which his form had been enshrouded, and sallying to the corner of Petticoat-lane, meets his fair Desdemona, a milliner's apprentice, to enjoy the pristine recreation of a stroll down Bishopsgate. And who shall tell in mannered language the projects, the shifts, "the numerous ills that love is heir to," to gain the happy object of a treat to the Royalty? Many a plot matured is counteracted by an unwelcome order of a few pounds of cheese, which must be delivered that night at a distance. A wedding is suddenly got upthe nuptial dress is to be prepared by a given day, and those hours which the fond pair had mutually agreed to dedicate to love, are destined to be employed in preparations for others to enjoy its consummation. Soar higher, gentle pen, and tell how the lawyer's clerk has made all necessary arrangements to drive his tenderly-adored one to a Sunday dinner at the Castle at Richmond, in a hired Stanhope. How the coats are borrowed with which to decorate the well-built vehicle, and to cheat the insulting toll-keeper who would ask "a ticket!"-how the boots are pa |