BREVITIES. There is this wide difference between love and friendship: the one is blind to a fault, the other points out an error and corrects it. In exposing the vice of others, many think by the attraction to conceal their own deformity. It is better to acknowledge the timely assistance of humanity, than to sink beneath an intensity of obligation by being more proud than we are grateful. It is more advisable to imitate perfection than originate a subordinate duty. There is always an indefinite charm attached to an object, the attainment of which we consider indispensable to complete our felicity. Obtain it, and the illusion vanishes. Vanity is the result and only comfort of a weak mind. There is something soothing in every condition, however degenerated. Those who make fortunes seldom spend them. It is useless to look forward to future prosperity, if the present be not occupied towards laying the foundation of it. Many cling to a distant hope and reject a progressive certainty. The greatest gluttons are those who feed upon slander. When society begins to profit by a man's misfortunes, his difficulties rarely terminate. Fear is the universal offspring of uncertainty. That man who has passed through life without enemies could not have had a character worth depreciating. Wycombe. THE ODES OF HAFIZ. W. H. HAFIZ is to Persia what Anacreon was to Greece, Burns is to Scotland, or Tom Moore to Ireland. Allusions to the odes of Hafiz, form such frequent topics of conversation in society in Persia, that a want of acquaintance with such an author would reflect quite as much discredit upon a Persian gentleman, as ignorance of Shakspeare or Pope, would upon a person of corresponding rank in England. An idolatrous Mussulman asserts, that the poesy of Hafiz derived its innate grace from having been bathed in the waters of life; and that it equalled the virgins of Paradise in beauty. The series of gazels, or odes, of which the one appended is a free translation, (in which the spirit and mysticism of the Persian original has been as well preserved, as its English garb would permit,) are thrown into an artful arrangement, showing the progressive operation of love, the passion chiefly described, with which this one, relating to the vernal season, may be supposed These odes bear a strong allusion to the metaphysical theology of the Mussulmans. "Hafiz," said Khan Taib, "has the singular good fortune of being praised alike by saints and sinners. His odes are sung by the young and joyous, who by taking him in the literal sense find nothing but an excitement to pass the spring of life in the enjoyment of the world's luxuries; while the contemplative sage, considering the poet as a religious enthusiast, attaches a mystical meaning to every line, and repeats his odes as he would an orison." By wine, which is sung of in the following gazel, they give forth that Hafiz means devotion; and the breeze, an illapse of grace, whilst the perfume, typifies the hope of divine grace; and so on they construct the mystical vocabulary of their favourite poet. Hafiz, they record, to substantiate this, gave public lectures on Mohammedan theology. The truth is, the orthodox Mussulman attaches too special for the peculiar tenets of the folthis meaning, as the poet's praise of wine is lowers of the prophet;-wine being strictly prohibited to be used by the Koran. It is recorded that a dispute arose as to whether the character of his works did not exclude the poet of Shiraz from religious burial. The volume of odes was produced, and it was opened by a person whose eyes were bound; seven pages were counted back, when the heaven-directed finger pointed to one of his inspired stanzas: Withdraw not your steps from the obsequies of Hafiz, Though immersed in sin he will rise into Paradise. The admirers of the poet shouted with delight, and those who had doubted, joined in carrying his remains to a shrine near Thoraz, where from that day to this, his tomb is visited by pilgrims of all classes and all ages; and where a splendid copy of his works is chained to his tomb. The "Anacreon" of Iran lived at Shiraz also; it is the capital of the province of Persia Proper, and called Darool Ilm, or seat of learning; its inhabitants are distinguished by their learning, and the fragrance and abundance of its roses are only equalled by the beauty of its women, and the melodious chants of its nightingales. The following epitaph is on his tomb: Thou willow-bound brow look not sad now, 'Tis the season of love, Enjoined from above, Fill the cup to the brim and look glad now; But drink from her lip, 'Tis a joy-giving streamlet more precious in price, Than which laves the fair daughters of bright Paradise. The above, it will be observed, is a very free translation. In the cold, linguist-like versification of Sir William Jones, all the fire and mystical beauty of the poet is lost. Comparison will illustrate this:-take the first stanza or two; 1. The dawn advances, veiled with roses; 2. The dew drop trickles over the cheek of the tulip; Bring the wine, my dear companions, bring the wine. But this is getting critical; we will shortly present another of these "orient gems," which like many other works of genius are more talked about than known. RECOLLECTIONS OF ADMIRAL BYNG, AND LORD CHATHAM. BY A NONAGENARIAN. (To the Editor.) DURING a recent visit at the village of Hayes, near Bromley, in Kent, I was introduced to an old man of the name of John Mumford, who is living at the advanced age of ninetyone, in a small cottage, which he has occupied for the last fifty-seven years on Hayes Common. The particulars of Mumford's life are worthy of notice. In 1756, when quite a youth, being in the employ of Mr. Brough, Marshal of the Admiralty, he accompanied him to Greenwich, where Admiral Byng was then confined on the charge of a defect of duty. Mumford having much leisure time, devoted it to the service of the admiral, whose valet taking advantage of his master's confinement, attended more to his own pleasures than to his services. Mumford became a great favourite of the admirai, and was constantly with him till his execution, which took place at Portsmouth, in 1757. He used to carry him his dressing-gown and slippers every morning; and whenever Byng wanted anything, he always called for the "Marshal's boy." He well remembers the excited state of the country at that time against the admiral, and repeated over to me some of the ballads and doggerel rhymes, composed in ridicule and censure of Byng. He was present during the whole of the trial, and when sentence of death was pronounced, Mumford says he looked up into the admiral's face, and did not perceive in it the slightest change of countenance or colour. He was in the train at the execution; and what is perhaps the most singular incident in his life, he laid down the cushion for the admiral to knee on, when shot. John mentions the circumstance of Byng's not wishing to have his eyes blindfolded, and says he came forward 66 as bold as a lion:" this agrees with the account given by historians, and shows anything but cowardice on the part of Byng. "After the murder (for so John terms it,) I went," said he, "among others and stroked down the body; and it required the efforts of the steward and cook to stop my blubbering, for I was mortation sorry for him, poor man!" Mumford retains a strong remembrance of the admiral's person; he describes him as a Bring the morning draught, my friends, the fine, tall, hale man, rather inclined to corpumorning draught. lence, and much troubled with the gout. He wore a large, grey wig, and was full of urbanity and good humour. Mumford says he left him six-and-thirty shillings, wrapped up in paper, as a reward for his trouble. If I were to mention all the trifling, though amusing, anecdotes which he related to me concerning Admiral Byng, I fear I should encroach too much on your pages; I will, therefore, relate as concisely as possible, the remaining circumstances of Mumford's life. When John arrived at manhood, he lived as coachman to the great Lord Chatham: he says, that his lordship was very partial to riding about the country near his seat (Pitt Place,) on a little pony, and taking up and replanting trees; he was a tall, gouty man, and generally wore a great coat; he had a particular dislike to be gazed at, and when he saw any person approach, would often turn down the first lane, or by-way, which presented itself. I asked John if he remembered William Pitt, the great statesman; he replied, as well as if I had only seen him yesterday;" and that when he, and the present Lord Chatham, and another brother, (who died when young,) were lads, they were very fond of frequenting the stables, while he was at work, and entering into conversation with him concerning horses. 66 Mumford retains all his faculties, and sees, hears, and talks wonderfully, for a man of his advanced years; he says, "he can't think what it is, but he has felt rather weakish about the legs of late"-however, this does not prevent him from walking on the common regularly every day, and cutting furze and turf for his fire. He has had nine children, all of whom he has survived except one; his wife lived to the age of ninety. He is remarkably sensible for an uneducated man, and possesses a fund of entertaining conversation; and his sentiments are replete with simplicity and unaffected goodness. He is supplied with a hot dinner every day by a charitable lady in the neighbourhood, for which he expresses himself extremely grateful; this, together with the little money he has saved, serves to render the remainder of a life of hard labour and industry, comfortable and happy. When I called to see him in his cottage, he was seated in an easy chair, talking to a favourite cat, and I was so much pleased with his venerable appearance, that I made a sketch of him as he sat, with the resemblance of which he was highly delighted. Mumford was born at Hayes, in 1742: since my first introduction to him, I have made him a present of a print of Admiral Byng. E. M. W. MILTON'S SONNET ON THE VAU- country. All who remained and refused to be converted, with their wives and children, suffered a most barbarous massacre. Those who escaped, fled into the mountains, from whence they sent agents into England to Cromwell for relief. He instantly commanded a general fast for his unoffending people, to show this monster the horror in which he held his conduct, and promoted a national contribution, in which near forty thousand pounds were soon collected. As might be expected, the prosecution was suspended, the duke recalled his army, and the surviving inhabitants of the Piedmontese valleys were reinstated in their cottages, and the peaceable exercise of their religion. Sir William Moreland, Cromwell's agent for the valleys of Piedmont, at Geneva, published a minute account of this unparalleled scene of religious butchery, under the title of the "History of the Valleys of Piedmont, Lond. 1658," with numerous cuts, in folioa most judicious measure. We shall add a very few explanatory notes to the sublime sonnet of our indignant bard, himself Cromwell's Latin secretary at this period. ON THE LATE MASSACRE IN PIEMONT. "AVENGE, O Lord, thy slaughter'd saints whose bones Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold Slain by the bloody Piemontese that roll'd Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans The vales redoubled to the hills, and they To Heav'n. Their martyr'd blood and ashes saw O'er all th' Italian fields, where still doeth sway The tripl tyrant; that from these may now A hundred fold, who having learn'd thy way, Daily may fly the Babylonian woe." 5 9 14 3. Milton states that exact fact; they have manuscripts against both antichrist and purgatory as early as 1120. 7, 8. This horrible picture is thus related by Sir W. Moreland, in his book:-"A mother infant in her arms; and three days after was was hurled down a mighty rock, with a little found dead with the little child alive, but fast clasped between the arms of the dead mother which were cold and stiff, insomuch that those who found them had much ado to get the young out.”—p. 263. The Topographer. IPSWICH. C. S. IPSWICH, the capital of the county of Suffolk, derives its name from its situation, at the confluence of the rivers Gipping and the Orwell. It appears to have been a town of some consequence during the Anglo-Saxon dynasty, as it was strongly fortified against the Danes, who twice broke down the works, and, according to their merciless custom, pillaged the place. The fortifications were repaired in the reign of King John, and their subsequent decadence has been effected by the slow but sure effects of devastating time. The town had formerly four gates, called from their situation, after the four points of the compass, and from them were named the four leets, or wards, into which the place was divided. A fifth gate also stood on the banks of the Orwell, at the spot where once was a ford across the river. Not a vestige of these gates remains, and the rampart is nearly level with the ground; nor is there a fragment of the castle, (common to all fortified towns,) to prove its site or define its character; all that is known concerning it is, that it was destroyed by Henry II., about the year 1176. The privileges of the Corporation, (which, at this moment, it may be interesting to enumerate,) are very extensive, and were granted in charters by succeeding monarchs. The town has sent two members to parliament since 25 Henry VI.; who are elected by the burgesses at large. The principal officers in the corporation at present are, two bailiffs, a high steward, and a recorder; twelve portmen, of whom four are justices of the peace; a town clerk; twenty-four chief constables, two of whom are coroners, and the twelve seniors are headboroughs; a treasurer; and two chamberlains to collect the revenues of the town. The corporation has also ten livery servants, viz. four sergeants-at-mace, two beadles, a common crier, a water-bailiff, a gaoler, and a bridewell-keeper, Time, and the injudicious hand of modern innovation, have spared but few relics of ancient Ipswich. All that remain are, the Town-hall and the gateway of the college, built by Wolsey, as a nursery for his great college at Oxford, and a splendid bequest to his native town, Ipswich; a small part of the church of the Grey Friars' Monastery may also be included in the vestiges of the old town. The beautiful structure represented in the above Cut was one of the most interesting ornaments of Ipswich; but it was removed, on what plea we know not, early in the year 1812. Its appropriation as a market cross is denoted by the figure of Justice, which surmounts the cupola roof. It was an octagon, 27 feet in diameter, and about 50 feet in height, to the top of the figure. The annexed view shows the east side of the cross, and to the left, the north front of the Town-hall. At what time these structures were erected is uncertain. The latter, before it was used as a guildhall, was the parochial church of St. Mildred; and it appears to have continued so for nearly 200 years. In 1199, it was appropriated to the priory of St. Peter's. Under the building are three rooms, which are now let as warehouses; adjoining the hall is a spacious council-chamber, and beneath it are the appropriate appendages of spacious kitchens. The reader may probably think the irregu larity of the Town-hall redeemed by its antiquity. Some years since a piece of the plaster-work in the middle of the front, near the top, fell down, and discovered a stone, on which could be discerned the arms of England and France quartered. A board has been placed over this representation, with a fac simile of the arms painted upon it, at the private expense of Henry Seekamp, Esq., one of the portmen. Had Ipswich, from time to For an Engraving of this Gate, see an early volume of the Mirror. time, but possessed one such zealous officer as this gentleman, its appearance would at the present moment be more attractive to the antiquarian. POMPEII. Ar Pompeii a discovery was made on the 10th of October, 1831, of a picture in mosaic, of greater value and interest than any that had preceded it. It was found in the Triclinium of the house said to belong to Faunus; it is about eighteen feet high, by nine feet in width, and of exquisite workmanship. The subject is the battle of Sarpedon, from the Iliad, the figures being half the natural size. Time has injured some parts of this precious relic, which, however, is still the chef d'oeuvre of Pompeii, as to the expression of the figures, the perfection of the drawing, and, what is more rare in a marble picture, the finish of the execution. Since the discovery of this mosaic, four rooms and a kitchen have been opened, where a considerable number of bronze vases and iron utensils were found. These are very interesting, as they tend to acquaint us with the domestic customs of the ancients. One of the chambers was filled with amphora, some of which are of a new and hitherto unknown form; they in general bear a Greek and Latin inscription, written in black. Several contained dried wine, which, liquefied with water, still retains its flavour. W. G. C. INTERESTING DISCOVERY AT LOCHLEVEN. IN August, 1831, were discovered in the bed of Lochleven, on the south side of the castle, and about two hundred yards from the tower, a number of balls of freestone, varying slightly in size, but averaging about twenty-four inches in circumference, and fifteen pounds weight. From their peculiar shape and appearance, together with the circumstance that nothing of a similar description can be found in that quarter, it has been infered, with a considerable degree of probability, that they must be the identical balls that were discharged upon the memorable occasion when the unfortunate Mary, Queen of Scots, effected her escape. There are sixteen of them, and the direction in which they lay is precisely the spot where they would have been lodged, had the alarm been instantly given, and the firing taken place as soon as the sentries on the top of the tower could have commanded a view of the boat; supposing (as, indeed, there can be little doubt), that Mary, having found egress through a south window, which overlooks the lake, and not as has been most commonly maintanied through the castle gate; the course which her youthful pilot had taken, lay to the south of the island, and between the latter and the small islet called the Reed Bower. FERNANDO. Anecdote Gallery. MUSICAL COMPOSERS. 6 'Are you 'No.' 'I GRETRY, the celebrated musical composer, who died a few years since at Paris, gives the following account in some memoirs which he has left of himself, of his first and last interview with Rousseau: "I was at the representation of the Fausse Magie, when some one said to me, there comes Rousseau!' I flew to meet him. How glad I am to see you,' said he, it is long since I imagined my heart to be inaccessible to the tender impressions which your music revives in it. I wish to become acquainted with you; or rather, I know you sufficiently by your works, and I am desirous of being your friend!' 'O, sir, my fairest reward is that of pleasing you by my talents.' married ? Yes." 'Is your wife, as I have been told, a woman of genius?' thought not.' She is the daughter of an artist, who never speaks but as she feels: nature is her guide.' 'I thought as much; I am fond of artists; they are the children of nature. I should like to become acquainted with your wife. I shall call to see her very often.' We continued together the whole of the performance, during which he pressed my hand twice or thrice, and we went out together. Little did I think that it was the last as well as the first time I should see him. In the Rue Francaise, the pave ment was broken up, and the stones thrown up into a heap. Rousseau seemed not to perceive them. I laid hold of his arm and said, Take care, M. Rousseau.' He drew back furiously with the words, 'Let me use I was thunderstruck. my own faculties!' The coaches parted us; he took his way, and I mine, and we never afterwards spoke to one another." HANDEL, though of a very robust and uncouth external appearance, yet had such a remarkable irritability of nerves, that he could not bear to hear the tuning of instruments, and therefore this was always done before Handel arrived.—A musical wag who knew how to extract some mirth from his irascibility of temper, stole into the orchestra one night when the Prince of Wales was to be present at the performance of a new oratorio, and untuned all the instruments, some half a note, others a whole note, lower than the organ. As soon as the prince arrived, Handel gave the signal of beginning conspirito; but such was the horrible discord, that the enraged musician started up from his seat, and having overturned a double bass which stood in his way, he seized a kettle-drum, which he threw with such violence at the head of the leader of the band, that he lost his full-bottomed wig by the |