purpose of displaying her jewel, the horse! And that elegant horseman Sam Day-but see how he is wasted to bring himself to the weight! Observe the knuckles of his hands and the patella of his knees, how they appear almost breaking through the skin. But if he have left nearly half of his frame in the sweaters, the remaining half is full of vigour; and we'll answer for it his horse don't find him wanting in the struggle. Then that slim, young jockey, with high cheek bones, and long neck, in the green jacket and orange cap-surely he must be in a galloping consumption! There is a pallid bloom on his sunken cheek, rarely seen but on the face of death, and he wants but the grave-clothes to complete the picture. Yet we need not fear. He is heartwhole and well; but having had short notice, has lost fifteen pounds in the last forty-eight hours. They are off again -a beautiful start and a still more beautiful sight! All the hues of the rainbow in the colours of the riders and the complexions of their horses! What a spectacle for the sportsmen who take their stand on the hill on the course, to see the first part of the race, and to observe the places their favourites have gotten! They are all in a cluster, the jockeys glancing at each other's horses, for they cannot do more in such a crowd. They are soon, however, a little more at their ease; the severity of the ground, and the rapidity of the pace, throw the soft-hearted ones behind, and at Tattenham's corner there is room for observation. "I think I can win," says Robinson to himself, “if I can but continue to live with my horse, for I know I have the speed of all here. But I must take a strong pull down this hill, for we have not been coming over Newmarket flat. Pavis's horse is going sweetly, and the Yorkshireman, Scott, lying well up. But where is Chifney? Oh! like Christmas, he's coming, creeping up in his usual form, and getting the blind side of Harry Edwards. Chapple is here on a dangerous horse, and John Day with a stain of old Prunella." It is a terrible race! There are seven in front within the distance, and nothing else has a chance to win. The set-to begins; they are all good ones. Whips are at work-the people shout -hearts throb-ladies faint-the favourite is beat-white jacket with black cap wins. 66 Now a phalanx of cavalry descend the hill towards the grand stand, with Who has won? in each man's mouth. "Hurrah!" cries one, on the answer being given; my fortune is made." "Has he, by says another, pulling up with a jerk; "I am a ruined man! Scoundrel that I was to risk such a sum! and I have too much reason to fear I have been deceived. Oh! how shall I face my poor wife and my children? I'll blow out my brains." But where is the owner of the winning horse? He is on the hill, on his coach-box; but he will not be lieve it till twice told. "Hurrah!" he exclaims, throwing his hat into the air. A gipsy hands it to him. It is in the air again, and the gipsy catches it, and half-a-sovereign besides, as she hands it to him once more. "Heavens bless your honour," says the dark ladye, "did I not tell your honour you could not lose ?" There are two meetings now at Epsom, as indeed there were more than half a century back, but the,October meeting is of minor importance. The grand stand on the course is the largest in Europe, and, to give some idea of its magnificence, it has been assessed to the poor's rate at 5007. per annum. exact expense of its erection is not known to us, but the lawyer's bill alone was 5571. Poor distressed England! Foreign Horse-racing. The After the example of England, racing is making considerable progress in various parts of the world. In the East Indies, there are regular meetings in the three different Presidencies, and there is also the Bengal Jockey Club. In the United States, breeding and running horses are advancing with rapid strides; and the grand match at New York, between Henry and Eclipse, afforded a specimen of the immense interest attached to similar events. In Germany we find three regular places of sport, viz., Gustrow, Dobboran, and New Brandenburg; and the Duke of Holstein Augustenburg has established a very promising one in his country. His Serene Highness, and his brother, Prince Frederick, have each a large stud of horses, from blood imported from England; and amongst the conspicuous German sportsmen, who have regular racing establishments, under the care of English training grooms, are, Counts Hahn, Plessen, Bassewitz, (two,) Moltke, and Voss; Barons de Biel, Hertefeldt, and Hamerstein. The Duke of Lucca has a large stud; and the stables at Marlia have been rebuilt in a style of grandeur equal to the ducal palace. At Naples, racing has been established, and is flourishing. Eleven thorough-bred horses were lately shipped at Dover, on their road to that capital, and which were to be eighty days on their journey, after landing at Calais. Prince Butera's breeding-stud, on the southern coast of Sicily, is the largest in these parts: it was founded by a son of Haphazard, from a few English mares, and his highness is one of the chief supporters of Neapolitan horseracing. In Sweden is some of our best blood; and Count Woronzow and others have taken some good blood-stock to Russia. In Austria, four noblemen subscribe to our Racing Calendar; in Hungary, eight; in Prussia, two. France makes very little progress in racing; it does not suit the taste of that people. But, of all wonders, who would look for racing in good form in Van Diemen's Land? There, however, it is: we perceive several well-bred English horses in the lists of the cattle at Hobart's Town, where they have three days' racing for plates, matches, and sweepstakes, (one of fifty sovereigns each,) with ordinaries, and balls, and six thousand spectators on the course! This little colony is progressing in many odd ways: it turns out, inter alia, as pretty an Annual, whether we look to the poetry or the engraving, as any one could have expected from a place of three times its standing though the engraving, to be sure, may be accounted for! WOMAN. OH! man, how different is thy heart, While Eve-poor Eve-looked back and wept !- Support some trembling fair one's charms, Looks forward to vague days beyond, Yea, even when on her lover's breast The sigh she gives is not so much For long remembered hours, when first To prove the empire of that touch, As for those days of old; Love on her dawning senses burst For all the wild impassioned truth That blest the visions of her youth! mark. Sailing from Elsineur on the 18th On the 27th of November, they were surprised by the phenomenon of three distinct suns, which appeared in the heavens. On the 24th of January they again saw two, equally distinct On the 18th of December they had an eclipse of the moon. They also saw a transparent circle round the moon, and what they fancied a cross within it, exactly quartering that satellite. These particular appearances were regarded, according to the spirit of those days, as omens of no future good fortune. The frost speedily froze up their beer, brandy and wine, so that the casks burst. The liberal use of spirituous liquors, which, in high latitudes, are doubly pernicious, was quickly productive of disease. Their bread and such provisions as they had brought from home were exhausted early in the spring, and the scurvy having reduced them to a most miserable condition, they were unable to pursue or capture any of the multitudes of wild fowl which flocked to the vicinity of their miserable dwellings. Death now committed frightful ravages The Hon. Mrs. Norton-in the Court Magazine. amongst them. They were helpless as chil New Books. SHIPWRECKS AND DISASTERS AT SEA. dren, and died in great numbers. In May, 1620, their provisions were entirely consumed, and then famine aided disease in the work of death. Never was the waste of life in such a situation so terrible. Summer had [WE quote still another extract from this nearly arrived, but not to bring hope and entertaining work:]— Munk's Disastrous Voyage. In the year 1619, an able navigator named Jens Munk was sent out on a voyage of discovery towards the north-west coast of America, by Christian IV., king of Den consolation to those who had lived through the dark and dreary winter, but to show the survivors the extent of the havoc death had made among them. Munk was among the living, but so weak as to be unable to indulge a hope of recovery. In despair, and perfectly hopeless, he awaited the fate which seemed inevitable. He had been four days without food. Impelled at length by hunger, and ignorant of the fate of his companions, he gathered strength enough to crawl out of his own hut to inquire after the others, and try to satiate his appetite. He discovered that, out of fifty-two, only two remained alive among the dead bodies of their comrades, who lay unburied around. Seeing they were the remnant of the crews, and hunger-stung, they encouraged each other to try for food. By scraping away the snow, they were fortunate enough to find some roots, which they devoured with ravenous eagerness, and then swallowing some herbs and grass which happened to be anti-scorbutic, they found themselves better. They then made corresponding efforts to preserve life. They were soon able to reach a river near, and to take fish, and from that they proceeded to shoot birds and animals. In this way they recovered their strength. The two vessels lay in a seaworthy state, but crewless and untenanted. On seeing the ships, which were a few months before well appointed and exulting in anticipated success, and observing the number to which their crews were reduced, what must have been their sensations! They nevertheless took resolution from despair. They made the smaller vessel ready for sea, taking what stores they had a necessity for, from the larger, and a crew of three hands embarked in a ship to navigate her in a perilous voyage, which had sailed from home with a complement of sixteen. They succeeded in repassing Hudson's Straits, enduring dreadful hardships. Their passage was stormy. Day and night they were necessitated to labour until the vessel was almost wholly abandoned to her own course. Nevertheless they succeeded in making a port in Norway, on the 25th of September. The sufferings of Munk and his crews have perhaps never been equalled in the fearful catalogue of calamity, which the annals of the early northern navigation present to the pitying reader. No fiction has ever painted a scene so horrible as the gradual death of forty-nine persons in such a situation, before the eyes of three survivors, whose constitutional strength kept them alive, the witnesses of misery, to the sight of which death must have been far preferable. The escape of the survivors and subsequent navigation to Europe, amid ice and storms, is one of the most extraordinary circumstances on record. Upon reaching Denmark, the whole nation viewed them as men who had risen from the tomb. The sympathy displayed towards them by their countrymen was universal, and must have poured balm into their minds, and repaid them for the hardships they had sustained. A subscription was set on foot for another expedition, arising out of the interest the narrative of these unfortunate men had created. Everything was ready for sailing. Munk, not dismayed by his past sufferings, offered his services again to command the new ship, and search out the north-west passage. He attended at court to take his leave of Christian IV., and the misfortunes of his former enterprise coming upon the carpet, the king admonished him to be more cautious than he had been on his former voyage, conveying to the brave seaman by implication, that the loss of the lives which had taken place was ascribable to their commander. The soul of the blunt navigator was stung by this unmerited reproof. He was not the courtier who licks the hand that deals the ungenerous blow. Munk made a reply such as the ear of royalty was not accustomed to hear from the sycophants that generally address it. The king, possessing no sense of the dignity and decency which become a crowned head, struck the inferior, who could not return the blow. The grossness of the indignity pierced Munk to the heart. He who had spirit enough not to bear an insult in words, even from a monarch, who had borne hardships beyond parallel in his profession, could not survive the disgrace of a blow from a quarter where non-resentment was an act of duty, and the aspersion remained on the ungenerous hand that dealt, rather than on him who received it. in a few days died of a broken heart. There is another statement extant, respecting the end of this navigator, but no authority is given for it, and the present is the account most generally believed to be authentic. Munk [We need scarcely add our note of commendation to these interesting volumes: hundreds of our readers may remember the intensity with which they enjoyed such narratives as the above in their days of schooldom. We have a recollection of some score of naratives in sixpenny pamphlets, which were nearly as popular as the Arabian Nights, in the circle of our youth. Mr. Redding has pruned and condensed such authorities, with saving of time and addition of interest. His volumes have also the embellishment of some prettily executed vignettes.] All reckless sped his summoned sprite While flushed in evening sleep he lay"See! yet another fleeting light Which shoots, and shoots, and fades away!" Each constant sigh, each hour of care; Which shoots, and shoots, and fades away!" Just then, a high and mighty lord, New-born, in gold and purple sleeping, His infant breath to Heaven restored, And left a princely mother weeping: Courtier, and slave, and parasite Were gathering round their future prey"See! yet another meteor light Which shoots, and shoots, and fades away יין My child, how comet-like it gleam'd! Wing'd heavenward yonder fleeting soul; From his she reaped a plenteous dole: From far and near, this very night, Towards his doors the houseless stray"See! yet another falling light away Which shoots, and shoots, and fades That star control'd a monarch's fate! Which shoots, and shoots, and fades away Foreign Quarterly Review. HINT FOR A DRAMA. THE following story has nothing that is very new or very varied, though it would not make a bad piece at the Adelphi, always supposing that Miss Kelly or Mrs. Yates could be got for the heroine. The substance of it is this: An old German, who has experienced misfortunes and griefs in early life, collects together the remains of a shattered fortune, and retires with an only daughter, then a child, to a little villa near Belgirate, where he takes the precaution to become a domiciled subject of Piedmont, lodging in the public archives the certificates of his marriage and of the baptism of his child. He passes his time betwixt the care of his daughter, his orchards and gardens: the young lady retains all the freshness of complexion and a mixture of the enthusiastic and mysterious sentimentalism of her native country; this, however, is a little warmed and improved by the more genial sun of Italy. The father appears occasionally oppressed by some concealed grief, and is oothed by her native songs. When she attains the important age of fifteen, her father is desirous that her manners should receive that polish which is only to be acquired by intercourse with the upper classes of society. And now comes what has so often happened before:-the girl-educated in the most perfect simplicity and ignorance of life, without having acquired any of that tact which enables women to distinguish the good from the bad, the true from the counterfeit-is taken every winter to Milan, and by the kindness of a Marchesina, their neighbour at the Lake, gets introduced into the best circles. Here she sees a Count G., whose handsome person makes him the fashion, notwithstanding he is a gambler, and strongly suspected of being something worse. He sees Judith, is charmed with the beauty of her fair German complexion, and the naiveté and affectionate singleness of her manners, and makes his proposals: the father, indignant at what he considers the defilement of his daughter, by her being approached by such a lover, rejects him. The Count's love turns to hatred. As spring returns, the father and daughter retire to their villa. The Count, having laid his plans, had preceded them in disguise. Judith in her walks, pensively ruminating on the events of the winter and the Count, meets her lover. The seduction commences: the matter, however, is easily accomplished by one so eminently skilled; on the one side was consummate villany, on the other nothing but confidence, ignorance, and innoShe determines to confide her hopes and griefs to her father, who, instantly on hearing her name the Count, stops her harshly. At once he becomes in her mind a tyrant instead of a father, the Count prevails, and Judith flies with him, under the idea that she is going to her wedding. With her she takes a casket, containing her mother's jewels and some papers which she had been told related to herself. She leaves a letter for her father, who, discovering that she had carried away the casket with the letters, exclaims in the presence of a friend that she had utterly ruined them both the friend pursues, the fugitives are arrested, the papers examined, it is discovered that the daughter is illegitimate, and that a forged certificate of marriage has been deposited by the old German, in order to establish the status of his beloved daughter. He is imprisoned, tried, and convicted of falsifying a public document, and condemned to death; but, in consequence of the extenuating circumstances of the case, gets off with twenty years of carcere duro, and dies broken-hearted at the end of the first two months: the daughter dies in a madhouse at Turin. The Count, who had not falsified a public document, escapes with a year or two's imprisonment, and, being let loose again on the public, becomes a brigand, and finishes his career in 1826 by being hung for robbing the mail.-Foreign Quarterly Review. cence. The Gatherer. Derivations.-The title lord is a contraction of the Anglo-Saxon hluford, afterwards written loverd, and lastly lord, from hlaf, bread, (hence our word "loaf,") and ford, to supply, or give it;-the word, therefore, implies, the giver of bread. Upon tick, which phrase means to go upon credit, may be explained. The word tick is a diminutive of ticket, a check. Decker, in his Gull's Hornbook, 1609, speaking of the gallants who prefered to go by water to the playhouse at Bankside, says "No matter, upon landing, whether you have money or no; you may swim in twenty of their boats over the river upon ticket." An ingenious etymologist derives "bothered" from "both eared"-that is, stunned at both ears. "Breeches," he contends, is deduced from "bear riches;" and "vales" to servants, from the Latin "vale," as being the farewell given at parting. "To scamper" is clearly derived from the Italian, "Scampare." The opprobrious title of "bum bailiffe," bestowed on the sheriff's officers, is, according to Blackstone, only the corruption of "bound bailiffe," every sheriff's officer being obliged to enter into bonds and to give security for his good behaviour previous to his appointment. W. G. C. I. and U.—Dr. Hill published, in a pamphlet, a petition from the letters I and U, to David Garrick, both complaining of terrible grievances imposed upon them by that great actor, who frequently banished them from their proper stations: as in the word virtue, which, they said, he converted into vurtue; and in the word ungrateful he displaced the u, and made it ingrateful, to the great prejudice of the said letters. To this complaint, Garrick replied in the following epigram: "If it is, as you say, that I've injured a letter, I'll change my note soon, and I hope for the better: May the right use of letters, as well as of men, Hereafter be fix'd by the tongue and the pen. Most devoutly I wish they may both have their due, And that I may be never mistaken for U." FERNANDO. Remarkable Stone.-The Mnemosyme, a Finland newspaper, mentions a stone in the northern part of Finland, which serves the inhabitants instead of a barometer. The inhabitants call it Ilmakiur. It turns black, or blackish grey, when rain is about to fall; but on the approach of fine weather, it is covered with white spots. Probably it is one of its constituent parts being attracted to the surface, by the greater or less degree of the dampness of the atmosphere, causes the spots to vary according to the temperature. To a Lady, with a pair of Gloves. (In the Pepysian Library at Cambridge).-Literary Gazette. Doncaster.-On more accounts than one, our turf proceedings must make foreigners marvel. Some years since, a French gentleman visited Doncaster, and gave it the appellation of "the guinea meeting,"-nothing without the guinea. "There was," said he, "the guinea for entering the rooms to hear the people bet. There was the guinea for my dinner at the hotel. There was the guinea for the stand, for myself; and (Oh ! execrable!) the guinea for the stand for my carriage. There was the guinea for my servant's bed, and (Ah! mon Dieu!) ten guineas for my own, for only two nights!" Now, we cannot picture to ourselves Monsieur at Doncaster a second time; but if his passion for the race should get the better of his pruduence, we only trust he will not be so infamously robbed again. Indeed, he may assure himself of this, for Doncaster will never be what it has been; nor is it fitting it should be. Neither do we consider it a recommendation to state the amount of the money run for at the last meeting,-viz. 13,9187. !— Quarterly Review. She Wire-drawing-Queen Elizabeth formed a corporation, to which she granted various exclusive privileges, for the purpose of encouraging the art of mining in England. also invited many foreigners into England, offering them free permission to dig for metallic ores. Among these foreigners was Christopher Schultz, a native of Annaberg, in Saxony, who was particularly skilled in finding calamine, and in making brass. He introduced the method of drawing iron-wire, by means of engines, which, before the seventh year of Elizabeth's reign, had been drawn by the strength of men, in the forest of Dean. This wire was principally used in making birdcages, and cards for combing wool. An Alderman a Foot Soldier.-In the latter part of the year 1544, the King, (says Brayley,) demanded a Benevolence from all his subjects, to defray the charges of his wars with France and Scotland. He had now become so completely despotic, that few dared to object; yet one person, an Alderman of London, named Richard Read, had the courage positively to refuse to pay the sum demanded from him by the king's commissioners, who met at Baynard's Castle, in January, 1545, to receive the city contributions. For this offence, Henry forced him to serve as a foot soldier with the army in Scotland, where he was made prisoner; and after suffering great hardships, was obliged to purchase his liberty by a considerable ransom."-See Lord Herbert's Life of Henry VIII. P. T. W. Printed and published by J. LIMBIRD, 143, Strand, (near Somerset House, London; sold by G. G. BENNIS, 55, Rue Neuve, St. Augustin, Paris; CHARLES JUGEL, Francfort; and by all Newsmen and Booksellers. |