The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 10, No. 268, August 11, 1827

As it was when age was young;
And the harvest song is sung;
And the quaint and jocund tale
Takes the stint-key from the ale,
And as free and fast it runs
As a June rill from the sun's
Dry and ever-drinking mouth:—
Mirth doth alway feel a drowth.
Butt and barrel ceaseless flow
Fast as cans can come and go;
One with emptied measures comes
Drumming them with tuneful thumbs;
One reels field-ward, not quite sober,
With two cans of ripe October,
Some of last year's brewing, kept
Till the corn of this is reaped.

Now 'tis eve, and done all labour,
And to merry pipe and tabor,
Or to some cracked viol strummed
With vile skill, or table drummed
To the tune of some brisk measure,
Wont to stir the pulse to pleasure,
Men and maidens timely beat
The ringing ground with frolic feet;
And the laugh and jest go round
Till all mirth in noise is drowned.

Literary Souvenir.

ARMORIAL BEARINGS AT CROYDON PALACE

(To the Editor of the Mirror.)

Sir,—In No. 266 of the Mirror, Sagittarius wishes to know the name of the person whose armorial bearings are emblazoned at Croydon palace.

From the blazon he has given, it is rather difficult to find out; but I should think they are meant for those of king Richard II. Impaled on the dexter side with those of his patron saint, Edward the Confessor. Bearings that may be seen in divers places at Westminster Hall, rebuilt by that monarch.[1 - Vide MIRROR, p. 98, Vol. iii.]

I have subjoined the proper blazon of the arms, which is azure, a cross patonce between five martlets or, impaling France and England quarterly, 1st. and 4th. azure three fleurs de lis. 2nd. or, 2nd and 3rd Gules, 3 lions passant guardant in pale, or.

The supporting of the arms with angels, &c. was a favourite device of Richard, as may be seen in divers antiquarian and topographical works.

It is probable the hall of Croydon palace was built during the reign of Richard, which will account for his arms being placed there.

I am, &c.

C. F.

DEATH OF MR. CANNING

The lamentable and sudden death of the Right Hon. George Canning has produced a general sensation throughout this country. At the opening of the present year our nation deplored the loss of a prince endeared to the people by his honest worth—but a short interval has elapsed and again the country is plunged in sorrow for the loss of one of its most zealous supporters—one of its chiefest ornaments—one of its staunchest friends—and one of its most eloquent and talented statesmen! The life of the late George Canning furnishes much matter for meditation and thought. From it much may be learnt. He was a genius, in the most unlimited sense of the word; and his intellectual endowments were commanding and imperative. Of humble origin he had to contend with innumerable difficulties, consequent to his station in life,—and although his talents, which were of the first order, befitted him for the first rank in society, that rank he did not attain until the scene of this world was about to be closed for ever from him. It may be said of this eminent man, that he owed nothing to patronage—his talents directed him to his elevated station, and to his intellectual superiority homage was made,—not to the man.

But, in other respects, the loss of Mr. Canning is a national bereavement. He was one of the master-spirits of the age. His very name was distinguished—for he has added to the literature of his country—by his writings and his eloquence he has stimulated the march of mind; he has seconded the exertions of liberal friends to the improvements of the uneducated, and he has patronized the useful as well as the fine arts, philosophy and science, of his country. To expatiate at greater length would be superfluous, as we have in another place recorded our humble tribute to his general character.[2 - Biographical Memoir of Mr. Canning, with a Portrait, MIRROR, Vol. iv.] We have now, therefore, merely to put together the melancholy facts connected with his death, and which will convey to another generation a just sense of the value, in our time, attached to a noble and exalted genius. The just and elegant laconism of Byron, by substituting the past for the present tense, may now be adopted as a faithful and brief summary of what was George Canning.

"Canning was a genius, almost an universal one:—an orator, a wit, a poet, and a statesman."

The king, with his usual quickness, was the first to perceive the dangerous state of Mr. Canning. We understand, that almost immediately after he had quitted him, on Monday, his majesty observed to sir William Knighton, that Mr. Canning appeared very unwell, and that he was in great alarm for him. On Tuesday, sir William repaired to town, at the express command of his majesty, to see Mr. Canning. At the interview with him, at the Treasury, Sir William made particular inquiries into the state of his health. Mr. Canning was then troubled with a cough, and he observed to Sir William that he almost felt as if he were an old man; that he was much weakened; but had no idea of there being anything dangerous in his condition, and that he trusted that rest and retirement would set him to rights. Sir William sent Dr. Maton to Mr. Canning, and on parting with him, he observed that, as he should not leave town until Wednesday morning, he would call on him, at Chiswick, on his way home to Windsor. Sir William found Mr. Canning in bed, at Chiswick. He asked him if he felt any pain in his side? Mr. Canning answered he had felt a pain in his side for some days, and on endeavouring to lie on his side, the pain was so acute that he was unable to do so. Sir William then inquired if he felt any pain in his shoulder? He said he had been for some time affected by rheumatic pains in the shoulder. Sir William told him that the pain did not arise from rheumatism, but from a diseased liver, and he immediately sent for the three physicians, who remained with him, and were to the last unremitting in their attentions.

The disease continued to make rapid progress, in spite of all that the first medical skill could do to baffle it, watching every turn it took, and applying, on the instant, every remedy likely to subdue its virulence, and mitigate his sufferings.

On the following Sunday, August 5, bulletins were issued, stating that Mr. Canning was in most imminent danger. The most painful interest was excited in the public mind by subsequent announcements of his alarming state, and on Wednesday morning, the following melancholy intelligence reached town:—