Cumberland relates that he held a conversation with Primate Robinson respecting the number of seceders who, in times of past laxity, had fallen off from the established mode of worship, and gone astray after strange and whimsical teachers. The primate remarked: "If you wish to get these people back again, you must sing them in. They won't come to your preaching; but they have itching ears, and will listen to a hymn or an anthem; and you have an organ."

Contrasting with the pleasures or frivol- a charm in his genius. His house was in ities of Bath a century ago the fashionable the Grove, and he would take Cumberevangelicalism must not be forgotten. land's arm, to be conducted to the PanThe Countess of Huntingdon had founded tiles, and endeavor to recollect the situa there the first chapel of her "connexion,' ,"tion of the steps, etc. "He enjoyed a a structure of Gothic design, with three vivid recollection of the pictures of men eagles at the upper end for pulpit and and books which he had seen." reading-desks. Herein the lively, though earnest, advocate and chancellor Erskine, between the periods of his naval and military service, in 1768, became associated with a very serious display of the liveries of woe. His father, the Earl of Buchan, had been a regular attendant at the chapel. Of his obsequies Whitefield "All has been awful, and more than awful. On Saturday the corpse was taken from Buchan House, a word of exhortation was given, and a hymn sung in the room where it lay; the young earl, with his hand on the head of the coffin, the countess dowager on his right, Lady Anne and Lady Isabel on his left, and their brother Thomas next to their moth er with a few friends. On Sunday morning all attended in mourning at the early sacrament. They were seated by themselves at the foot of the corpse, and, with their servants, received first, and a partic ular address made to them." At the funeral service, preached by Whitefield, at eleven o'clock on the same day,

"Our rural choir," Cumberland continues, "soon became conspicuous for its merits. Mr. Benson's admonitions, backed up by our melodies, thinned the ranks of the seceders; and a certain female apostle was deserted by her closest congregation, and thenceforth devoted herself to a favorite monkey, who profited more by her caresses."

Cumberland says that Tunbridge Wells had a certain number of residents throughout the year in his days; and that the morning papers reached them by dinThe coffin being deposited on a space railed ner-time, and the evening papers by in for the purpose, the bereaved relations sat breakfast next morning. He seems to in order within, and their domestics outside, have derived much gratification from the the rail. Three hundred tickets of admission, society of Lord Sackville, whose house of signed by the present earl, were given to the Stonelands, also known as Buckhurst nobility and gentry. Ever since there hath Park, is at about five miles' distance from been public service and preaching twice a day. the Wells. He relates that Lord SackThis is to be continued till Friday next- then ville took his last leave of Lord Mansfield all is to be removed to Bristol, in order to be at Stonelands in 1785. The latter, who shipped to Scotland. was then about eighty years of age, was much disturbed and affected by the death-like character of the countenance of his friend. Cumberland observes that his manner had more of horror in it than a firm man ought to have shown.

[ocr errors]

Tunbridge Wells appears to have rejoiced in an exemplary clergyman, the Rev. Martin Benson, according to Cumberland's "Autobiography." This "Sir Fretful Plagiary" settled at Tunbridge Wells after he had been, as he conceives, extremely ungratefully treated by the ministry under Lord North; as they would not reimburse him for expenses connected with his mission to Spain during the period of the American war. He consequently retired to Tunbridge Wells and continued to write voluminously plays, a poem after Milton, and a novel called "Henry," etc. But he says that he can forgive the ministry for the sake of Lord North; when he calls to mind "the hours he passed with that nobleman in the darkness of his latter days." There was

Five years previously Lord Mansfield had appeared to great advantage in his refusal to accept recompense for the loss of his valuable library, etc., in the Gordon riots.

He wrote, in answer to an official request for a statement: "Besides what is irreparable, my pecuniary loss is great. But how great soever that loss may be, I think it does not become me to claim or expect reparation from the State. I have made up my mind to bear my mis. fortune as I ought; with this consolation that it came from those whose object

[merged small][ocr errors]

There was a grand ball at the Castle, which did not break up till five the next morning, and was remarkably brilliant and crowded. The entertainment was upon the same plan as those given by his Majesty at the Queen's palace; with this difference, that the three tables were in one room, viz. St. George's Hall. Their Majesties, Prince Edward, Princess Royal, Princess Augusta, and Princess Elizabeth; Duchess of Argyll, Ladies Effingham, Egremont, and Weymouth supped at a small table facing the company, under a canopy.

The Prince of Wales danced with Lady Augusta Campbell, etc., etc.

Their Majesties, etc., supped at twelve o'clock, and retired at five.

[blocks in formation]

In dirty weather the ladies clattered about on pattens. A sedan-chair appears in a picture of the bath in about 1728; in all the way from London in a sedan-chair. which year the princess Amelia journeyed At this date the bath and the statue of Prince Bladud were quite open to the street. In a picture of the North Parade of about 1780 a gouty gentleman is represented in the "bath-chair" upon wheels.

A "patent" was obtained for the theatre in 1768. The Rev. E. Palmer writes that Bath boasts of having given to the world, amongst a constellation of lesser stars, old Edwin, King, Henderson, Dimond, Abingdon, and Siddons. Amongst the pieces performed in 1782-83, "The Fashionable Lover," "The Mysterious Husband," and "Love in a Village" emi

The general habits of the period sug-nently suggest the comedy and opera of gest agreeable suppers after the assem- the period. blies at Bath and Tunbridge Wells, with perhaps china bowls of punch or silver jugs of bishop to render the evening festive. Cards in private as well as public are indicated when Mr. Simkin writes:

A sum, my dear mother, far heavier yet Captain Cormorant won, when I played lansquenet:

Two hundred I paid him, and five am in debt.

Late hours are suggested in the descrip

tion of the ladies.

For indeed they look very much like apparitions

When they come in the morning to hear the musicians,

And some I am apt to mistake at first sight For the mothers of those I have seen over night.

From The Field.


A CORRESPONDENT writes: "About a month ago, staying in Rothesay, I went to visit what is there known as the beaver tion of what I then saw; and after will wood, and venture to send you a descripdescribe a visit of two days ago, when all was changed. In Bute the beaver wood is almost the most interesting show of the island. Driving past the woods of Mount Stewart, and seeing the magnificent mansion Lord Bute is now erecting, we come to a strip of fir plantation about one hun

-I'm griev'd to the heart when I go to the dred and fifty yards wide, and are in

[blocks in formation]

formed it is the beaver wood. An old,
teers to show us all he can.
intelligent man, who has charge, volun-
seems allied to his charges, and really
His heart
fond he is of describing what he has seen.
A scramble over a wall, a walk of a quarter
of a mile through a covert, and we come
to the beaver inclosure. The inclosure

is simply made by a wall about three feet
high, and wire paling another three feet.
The belt of trees before mentioned runs
through the whole, with a small burn en-
tering at one end and running out at the
other. This inclosed space gave the first

beavers the necessary running water, embankment, regardless of stone and growing trees, and also captivity. The masonry. Of course, being in the dayinclosure was made, and two pairs of time, we could not see the beavers thembeavers brought from Canada about eight selves. The keeper told us that, about years ago. Now commenced the most twelve months ago, he counted twenty-two interesting engineering exploits (I speak at once, but could not say what there were as an engineer) ever executed by an ani- at present. He was then much surprised mal in the British Isles. The four beav- to learn some had to be caught to send to ers found that the most advantageous the Fisheries Exhibition, and hoped it position to build their first dam was at the could be managed. Two days ago I went outlet of their confined space; but their to see how the capture had been conhouse must be started. A small dam was ducted, and if successful. This has made constructed in an advantageous position, me write these few lines. Two beavers and the house was commenced; also the sent to the exhibition destruction dam No. I was proceeded with. A de- everywhere! I walked down the covert scription of the house I will give pres- with the keeper; how pleasant! A roe ently. In constructing the dams, the darted from us, a brace of grouse off the greatest ingenuity must have been exer- moor near at hand, and then to the beaver cised, and I have only time to describe inclosure; but what a wreck! Every dam some of the most salient points governing broken through, their burrows dug out, the construction. The trees bordering their house a mass of ruins. I asked, the burn were invariably felled to be of 'Where are the beavers?' 'Dead!' said advantage in forming props to sustain a the keeper; 'over a hundred people were dam. In one case of a tree felled the here watching, and trampling, and assistbranches themselves would almost form a ing, and frightening.' It was pitiful to dam, in another a prop, in another a tree see the house pulled down and scattered felled half-way up would form the main about; the burrows, with their new clean support, and so on; but every tree felled tree shavings, constructed by themselves, showing the greatest ability for construc all to be dug up and knocked about for tion and security against floods and the sake of a capture. Had Lord Bute storms. Sticks and mud combined, ap-known the difficulty, I am sure he is too peared to construct a sound and sufficiently watertight embankment. In the inclosure and up the burn, five embankments of this character were constructed, and always kept in good and sound repair; apparently to secure facility for feeding and security from danger. From each dam a few entrances were made to burrows running perhaps fifteen or twenty yards from the water underground; but all entrances were under water; and, wherever beavers were at work, a flap of a tail on the surface of the water would send all to imagined security. Their house was constructed more like a Caffir hut than anything else. It was in the big dam, and stood about five feet out of the water, being carefully covered with mud, and having a ventilating shaft in the centre, constructed of sticks placed crosswise. Two entrances into this huge beehive, opposite each other, and under water, gave access to the beavers, and it was supposed that either gave access to the centre of the house. But nothing of this was known. We walked by a portion of the big dam which the beavers had to form against a masonry wall; but not be lieving in the skilled labor of the Scotch artisan, they dug below to the solid ground, and put in their stick and mud

much of a naturalist, and of too kindly a
disposition, to have allowed this to be
done. But the beavers are exterminated,
their splendid work is demolished, and
one of the most interesting zoological
sights in the British Isles is a thing of the
past. This is worth reflecting on when
one sees those two poor beavers in the
Fisheries Exhibition. In justice to the
keeper, I should say he could do nothing,
as he is comparatively a cripple, and his
superiors were present. In the process
of demolition, the construction of the
'house' interested the keeper very much.
It was found to be divided into two com-
partments, and the two entrances met
half-way round the house, then an inclined
passage took them into the centre of the
house. The construction of the floor,
roof, rafters, etc., was of a primitive but
substantial character, all showing the
constructive ability of the beaver."
are at a loss to understand how or why
the capture of two beavers should neces-
sitate the death of twenty others, and
trust that there may be some mistake in
the report. No doubt the survivors have
had a great scare, and are probably hid-
ing. Let us hope they will live to recon-.
struct their house.

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small]

For EIGHT DOLLARS, remitted directly to the Publishers, the LIVING AGE will be punctually forwarded for a year, free of postage.

Remittances should be made by bank draft or check, or by post-office money-order, if possible. If neither of these can be procured, the money should be sent in a registered letter. All postmasters are obliged to register letters when requested to do so. Drafts, checks and money-orders should be made payable to the order of LITTELL & Co.

Single Numbers of THE LIVING AGE, 18 cents.


OH, the sweet dried lavender!

Oh, the more than scent in it!
The butterflies and bees astir,

The pipe of linnets pent in it!
Brick and smoke and mire have fled,
Time and space between drop dead;
Oh, the sweet dried lavender !
I can hear the pigeons whirr,
I can count the quarters chiming,
I can watch the ivy climbing,

Close it clings from eave to basement,
Clasps and shadows all the casement.
Within, against the raftered wall,
The oaken press stands black and tall;
I see its folded linen store
Glean athwart its open door,
I smell the lavender fresh-dried
Strewing all the shelves inside.
Unmade is yet your shroud, mother,
Nor yet you are in heaven;
You count the sheets aloud, mother,

And smooth and lay them even.
Your jingling keys, with music low,
Measure your steppings to and fro;
And, sorting, piling, still you croon
Some soft, half-uttered cradle tune.

Oh, the sweet dried lavender !
I hear the wise old tabby purr
Curled on the window-sill asleep,
Where winter's sunlights start and creep.

I hear, without, familiar babel

Of turkeys and of geese,

I, perched upon the kitchen table,
In a smock above my knees;
My head is all a golden mop;
Upon my cheek the round tears drop;
The frosty morning weather nips
My nose and toes and finger-tips.

Mother, so quick you leave your sheets!
The shelf of sugars and of sweets
So well you rifle for my meal,
Almond and fig and candied peel!
You chafe my little palms, mother,

You kiss away their cold,

You take me in your arms, mother,
And I am five years old.
The Month.


[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]



Drowned at Oxon, summer term 1882. As at some revel, when the cups are crowned, And mirth and merriment are at their height, One feaster passes forth into the night Alone, on some far distant journey boundPasses out silent without sign or sound, Fearful lest word of leave-taking should blight The feasting, and with darkness mar the light; So, without word you passed, when all around Was sweet, and life was brightest and most gay; When earth was fairest, and the sky most blue And like a sheet of silver. Isis shone, And we, bent on the pleasures of the day, Heeded you not, my brother, nor e'en knew That you were going, till we know you gone. Chambers' Journal.

« VorigeDoorgaan »