While on the subject of gluttony, which is frequently as much a disease as a passion, we shall add a few instances of bulimy, or an insatiable and perpetual desire of eating, which has been furnished us by our kind and intelligent correspondent, P. T. W. There was a Polish soldier named Charles Domery, in the service of the French, on board of the Hoche frigate, which was captured by the squadron under the command of Sir J. Borlase Warren, off Ireland, in 1799. He was 21 years of age, and stated that his father and brothers had been remarkable for their voracious appetites. His began when he was 13 years of age. He would devour raw and even live eats, rats, and dogs, besides bullock's liver, tallow-candles, and the entrails of animals. One day (viz. September 17th, 1799), an experiment was made of how much this man could eat in one day. This experiment was made in the presence of Dr. Johnson, a commissloner of sick and wounded seamen, Admiral Child, and Mr. Foster, agents for prisoners at Liverpool, and several other gentlemen. He had breakfasted at four o'clock in the morning on 4lbs. of raw cow's udder; at half past nine o'clock, there were set before him 5lbs. of raw beef, and 12 tallow candles of 1lb. weight, together with 1 bottle of porter; these he finished by half past ten o'clock. At one o'clock there were put before him 5 lbs. more of beef, 1 lb. of candles, and 8 bottles of porter. He was then locked up in the room, and sentries were placed at the windows to prevent his throwing away any of his provisions. At two o'clock he had nearly finished the whole of the candles, and great part of the beef. At a quarter past six he had devoured the whole, and declared he could have ate more; but the prisoners on the outside having told him that experiments were making upon him, he began to be alarmed. Moreover, the day was hot, and he had not had his usual exercise in the yard. The whole of what he consumed in the course of one day amounted to Raw cow's udder.. Raw beef ...... Besides five bottles of porter. The eagerness with which this man attacked his beef when his stomach was not gorged, resembled the voracity of a hungry wolf; he would tear off large pieces with his teeth, roll them about his mouth, and then gulph them down. When his throat became dry from con tinued exercise, he would lubricate it by stripping the grease off a candle between his teeth; and then, wrapping up the wick like a ball, would send it after the other part at a swallow. He could make shift to dine on immense quantities of raw potatoes or turnips, but by choice would never taste bread or vegetables. He was in every respect healthy, 6 feet 3 inches high, of a pale complexion, grey eyes, long brown hair, well made, but thin; his countenance rather pleasant, and he was good tempered. His perspirations were profuse, to which Dr. Johnson and the other medical gentlemen have ascribed the rapid dissipation of the ingesta, and his incessant craving for fresh supplies of food. In 1700 there lived at Stanton, near Bury, a labouring man of middle age, who for many days together had such an inordinate appetite, that he would eat up an ordinary leg of veal, roasted, at a meal. He would eat sow thistles, and various other herbs, as greedily as cattle are wont to do; and all he could get was scarcely enough to satisfy his hunger.There was likewise a boy of the age of twelve years, at Barnesley, in Yorkshire, who was so ravenous that he would gnaw the very flesh off his own bones. When awake he was constantly devouring. In the space of six days he devoured 384lbs. of liquid and solid food. BONFIRES. To the Editor of the Mirror. Mr. Bagford, in his letter to the antiquarian, T. Hearne (vide Leland's Collection, I. p. lxxvi.) says, bonfires were so called because they were made of bones: and Bourne, in his Antiq. Vulg. p. 215, seems of the same opinion. There appears to be, however, some doubts of these gentlemen's conclusion: for Stow, in his Survey of London, says, "these were called bonfires, as well of good amity among neighbours, that being before at controversy, they were then reconciled, and made of bitter enemies, loving friends." It is therefore rational to suppose, they were called bonfires, after the French word bon; and when it is known, the people used also to have them in crowded cities, to cleanse the air from infection, there can be no doubt they esteemed them as fires productive of good, or good fires. Stow also says, they were made of wood, which circumstance makes it the more improbable they should be called bonfires "because they were made of bones." Doubtless the idea originated from the burning offerings of our primitive parents. G. S. Fairy Castles. The various phenomena exhibited by nature present nothing more curious and extraordinary than those which are caused by the reflection and refraction of light from fogs and vapours arising from the sea, lakes, and morasses, replete with marine and vegetable salts. These vapours, by means of the said salts, form various polished surfaces, which reflect and refract the light of the sun, and even the moon, in various directions, by which they not only distort, but multiply the images of objects represented to them in a most surprising manner. They not only form images of castles, palaces, and other buildings, in various styles of architecture, but also the most beautiful landscapes, spacious woods, groves, orchards, companies of men and women, herds of cattle, &c. &c. these are all painted with such an admirable mixture of light and shade, that it is impossible to form an adequate conception of the picture without seeing it. The best scenery exhibited by the camera obscura is not more beautiful, or a more faithful representation of na ture. Though these curious and beautiful phenomena are not peculiar to any age or country, they are more frequently seen on the sea coasts; and though in some respects common in such situations, they have hitherto been so little noticed by the intelligent part of mankind as to be scarcely known to exist. Those which have most attracted attention have been seen in the summer season on the southern coasts of Italy, about the year 900, and from that period to the commencement of the 14th century frequently by the Anglo-Saxon, English, and French fishermen and mariners. But, as this island could never be approached, it was called the enchanted island, and supposed by the 'maritime inhabitants of Scotland, Ireland, France, and Spain, to be the country of departed spirits, and consequently denominated in Erse Flath Innis, or the Noble Island; in Irish Hy Brasil, or the Country of Spirits; by the AngloSaxons, Icockane, or the Country in the Waves; and by the French and Spaniards, who supposed it to consist of two distinct islands, Brasil and Assmanda, or the Islands of Ghosts. And so much persuaded were geographers of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries of their real existence, that they have place in all or most of the maps of the Atlantic in those periods. Even so late as about the year 1750, an English ship, returning from Newfoundland, near lat. 50° north discovered an island not heretofore known, which not only appeared fertile, but covered with verdant fields and shady woods, among which cattle were seen to graze; and only the appearance of a violent surge hindered the captain and crew from landing, according to their desire. So well convinced, however, were they of its real existence, that, on arriving at London, ships were ordered out to complete the discovery; but no island could be found, nor has any land been discovered in that track from that time to the present. Commodore Byron, in his Voyage round the World, mentions a fog bank in a high southern latitude, which appeared like an island, with capes and mountains, deceiving the most experienced seamen on board for some time. From these evidences of the frequent appearance of the fata morgana, we shall proceed to describe one seen near the town of Youghal, in the county of Cork, Ireland, in the year 1796, according to the view given in our engraving, drawn on the spot by a young lady, one among a number of spectators. This was seen on the 21st of October, 1796, about four o'clock in the afternoon, the sun clear: it appeared on a hill, on the county of Waterford side of the river, and seemed a walled town with a round tower, and a church with a spire; the houses perfect, and the windows distinct. Behind the houses appeared the mast of a ship, and in the front a single At Scowton's dire destruction will be seen! The trumpet will give up its tragic truths! The magistrate, desiring to be Keen, Will put an end, as usual, to the Booths. No lucky bags, no drums, no threehand reels, No cocks in breeches, no tobaccosots! No more shall Wapping learn to dance quadrilles, Or shake a hornpipe 'mid the pewter-pots! No more the Fairing shall the fair allure, For Fairs no more the fairing may expose: In pleasure-lovers, work, shall work a cure! And Sundays only show the Sunday clothes! The magistrates decree that" fair is THE CONVENT OF ST. BER foul," And put a stop to profitable sport; They exercise the Lion's shilling howl, And cut the Irish giant's income short. No more the backy box, in dark japan, Shakes on the stick, and lures the rabble rout; No more the lemon, balanced by the man, Flies at the touch and flings its toys about! Take warning then, ye fair! from this fair's fall! One act (the Vagrant Act) hath been its ruin ! Listen, oh listen, to Law's serious call, For fun and pleasure lead but to undoing! TRAND. OR, THE APOSTATE NUN. Who is she, with wild, dishevell'd hair, tear And yet that beauteous bosom bare St. Bertrand's walls the vow had heard And dares her cloister cell to fly, Rides gaily round the Convent bower, "Tis he whom maiden ne'er disdains-But, ah! he comes in evil hour That lady bright to wooToo soon she hears the syren knight With whispers soft and bridal vow, With him to fly ere morning's lightAnd she, fair maid, hath brav'd it But oh that hour has sealed her doom, It need'st be told what now must be, The Robelist. No. XXV. . THE FALL OF USBEK. The hand of munifience had poured upon the head of Usbek all the blessings which this world can bestow. Abbas, the mighty sovereign of the East, before whose throne the world pays homage, had made him governor of a region beauteous as Paradise, and fertile above all others. Nothing was wanting to complete his felicity but the inward serenity of conscious virtue the soft whispers of the angel of peace. Usbek, therefore, amidst the glare of magnificence and pomp of power, was a prey to the violence of ungovernable passions. The glittering pinnacles of ambition dazzled the eyes of his frailty; he viewed the summit with exultation, and thirsted with insatiable desire of arbitrary sway. The power of subduing temptation became less in proportion as he viewed the prospect of success, till at length he resolved, by whatever means, to gratify his criminal propensity. Impelled by some evil genius, he raised the hand of rebellion against the life of that sovereign who had exalted him to dignity and honour, and seated himself on the throne of his power. The soul of Usbek was now flattered by the adulation of the abject; the proud were humbled in the dust before him, and the sovereigns of mighty kingdoms paid homag at his feet. The arrow of affliction had not yet wounded his bosom, and he exulted in the grandeur which surrounded him: but short are the triumphs of iniquity; they pass away like the shaft that flieth in the dark, and are seen no more. The transitory gratification of despotic power became familiar by habit, and the former perturbation of his mind returned. He was sitting alone in one of the apartments of his seraglio, and arraign ed the justice of Providence as envying him the happiness he so eagerly sought. The past afforded no consolation; the present was without enjoyment; and the future without hope. Such was the situation of Usbek, when one of his slaves, with all the marks of frenzy and despair, rushed into the apartment, and exclaimed, "Pardon, mighty Sultan of the East, the liberty of thy slave: thy favourite Roxana." -"Presumptuous wretch!" cried Usbek, in all the bitterness of anger, "who thus unbidden durst"-He could say no more; rage stopt his utterance; when stamping with his foot on the ground, the ministers of his will appeared before him. Drag hence,' said he, "that victim of my displeasure, and let him suffer the punishment due to his temerity." They had no sooner obeyed his mandate, than sudden darkness surrounded him, and an awful voice thundered from the cloud that caused it, "Usbek, hitherto thou hast lived for thyself alone! Thou hast sacrificed the Sultan thy master to the insatiable lust of power, and now thou condemnest thy servant without cause. But know, that the decrees of heaven are not to be infringed to gratify the caprice of a tyrant; and that the weakness of mortality must necessarily be crushed when it stands in opposition to the arm of Omnipotence. Thou hast broken through the order of Nature by aspiring to that throne which was designed for another; that throne, therefore, which thou hast unjustly usurped, has proved the source of perpetual disappointment. It is still in thy power to repent; profit by the precious opportunity, and beware lest that Being, who by a single beam of his effulgence irradiates the universe, involve thee in that abyss of misery where thy torments shall increase to all eternity, and aggravated horrors reduce thee to endless despair!" As soon as the first emotions of terror and astonishment had subsided, Usbek, struck with sudden remorse, rushed forth in order to prevent the execution of his command. But it was too late; the vital spark, which no violence can extinguish, had flown for ever. The Sultan therefore returned to his apartment in gloomy disappointment; and, throwing himself on a sofa, again mused on the wretchedness of his condition. "What then,' exclaimed he, "availeth the power of Usbek, if he may not, without reproof, sacrifice the slave |