The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 13, No. 372, May 30, 1829

SCOTCH SONG

(For the Mirror.)

Gin Lubin shows the ring to me
While reavin' Teviot side,
And asks me wi' an earnest e'e,
To be his bonny bride.
At sic a time I canna tell
What I to him might say,
But as I lo'e the laddie well,
I cudna tell him nae.

I'd say we twa as yet are young,
Wi' monie a day to spare,
An' then the suit should drap my tongue
That he might press it mair.
I'd gae beside the point awhile,
Wi' proper laithfu' pride,
By lang to partin', wi' a smile,
Consent to be his bride.

    C. Cole.

The Sketch-Book

THE LOVER STUDENT

A Leaf from the Reminiscences of a Collegian

(For the Mirror.)

–—He was but a poor undergraduate; not, indeed, one of lowest grade, but still too much lacking pecuniary supplies to render him an "eligible match." Julia, too, though pretty, was portionless; and the world, which always kindly interests itself in such affairs, said, they had no business whatever to become attached to each other; but then, such attachments and the world, never did, and never will agree; and I, from fatal experience, assert that what people impertinently call "falling in love," is a thing that cannot be helped; I, at least, never could help it. The regard of Millington and Julia was of a very peculiar nature; it was a morsel of platonism, which is rather too curious to pass unrecorded; for as far as I have been able, upon the most minute investigation to ascertain, they never spoke to each other during the period of their tender acquaintance. No; they were not dumb, but lacking a mutual friend to give them an introduction; their regard for decorum and etiquette was too great to permit them to speak otherwise than with their eyes. Millington had kept three terms, when I arrived at – College, a shy and gawky freshman; we had been previously acquainted, and he, pitying perhaps my youth and inexperience, patronized his playmate, and I became his chum. For some time I was at a loss to account for sundry fluctuations in Henry's disposition and manners. He shunned society and would neither accept invitations to wine and supper parties in other men's rooms, nor give such in his own; nevertheless his person seemed to have become an object of the tenderest regard; never was he so contented as when rambling through the streets and walks, without his gown, in a new and well cut suit; whilst in order eternally to display his figure to the best advantage, he was content to endure as heavy an infliction of fines and impositions, as the heads of his college could lay upon his shoulders. He was ruined for a reading-man. About this period he also had a perfect mania for flowers; observing which, and fancying I might gratify my friend by such a mark of attention, I one day went to his rooms with a large bouquet in either hand. He was not at home; but having carelessly enough forgotten to lock his door, I commenced, con amore, (anticipating the agreeable surprise which I should afford him) to fill his vases with fresh, bright, and delicious summer flowers, in lieu of the very mummies of their race by which they were occupied. My work was in progress when Millington returned, but, oh! good heavens! the rage, the profane, diabolical, incomprehensible rage into which he burst! I shall never forget. Away went my beautiful, my fragrant flowers, into the court, and seizing upon the remnant of the mummies, as yet untouched by my sacrilegious fingers, he tossed them into a drawer, double locked it, and ordered me out of the room. Dreading a kick, I was off at his word; but had not proceeded half way down stairs, when a hand from the rear, roughly grasped mine, and a voice, in a wild and hurried manner, asked pardon for "intemperance." I should have called it madness. We were again firm allies; but I resolved to fathom, if possible, the mystery of the flowers. I now observed, with surprise, that Millington never quitted his rooms without a flower in his hand, or boutonnière; which flower, upon his return, appeared to have been either lost, or metamorphosed into, sometimes, one of another description; sometimes into a nosegay. Very strange indeed, thought I; and began to have my suspicions that in all this might be traced "fair woman's visitings." Yes, Millington must decidedly have fallen in love. He was never in chapel, never in hall, never in college, never at lectures, and never at parties; he was in love, that was certain; but with whom? He knew none of the resident gentry of –, and he was far too proud to involve himself in "an affair" with a girl of inferior rank. Many men did so; but Millington despised them for it. Accidentally I discovered that he adored Julia, the young, sweet daughter of an undoubted gentleman, who was not yet "come out." She was a lively, pretty brunette, with brownest curling hair, only fifteen; and to this day, I believe, knows not the name of her lover. From an attic window of a five storied house, this fond and beautiful girl contrived, sometimes, to shower upon the head of her devoted admirer sweet flowers, and sometimes this paragon of pairs meeting each other in the walks, silently effected an interchange of the buds and blossoms, with which they always took care to be provided. Several weeks passed thus, Henry and Julia seeing each other every day; but long vacation would arrive; and on the evening preceding his departure from –, the lovelorn student, twisting round the stem of a spicy carnation, a leaf which he had torn from his pocket book, thus conveyed, with his farewell to Julia, an intimation that he designed upon his return to college next term, to effect an introduction to her family. Julia's delight may easily be conceived. I remained in college for the vacation to read, and had shortly the pleasure of informing Millington that I should be able, upon his return, to afford him the introduction which he had so much at heart, having made the acquaintance of Julia and her family. Two months elapsed ere Millington deigned to notice my letter. His answer to it was expressed in these terms:—

"Freddy—I'm married to a proper vixen, I fancy; but to twenty thousand pounds. Ay, my boy, there it is—no doing in this world without the needful, and I'm not the ass to fight shy of such a windfall. As for Julia, hang her. By Jove, what an escape—wasn't it? Name her never again, and should she cry for me, give her a sugar plum—a kiss—a gingerbread husband, or yourself, as you please. I am not so fond of milk and water, and bread and butter, I can assure her.

"Ever truly yours,

Henry Owen Millington.

"P.S. Capital shooting hereabout—can't you slip over for a few days?"

Poor Julia! I certainly am not clear that I shall not marry her myself; but as for that scoundrel Millington, he had better take care how he comes in my way—that's all.

    M.L.B.

Manners & Customs of all Nations

WHITSUN ALE

(For the Mirror.)

On the Coteswold, Gloucester, is a customary meeting at Whitsuntide, vulgarly called an Ale, or Whitsun Ale, resorted to by numbers of young people. Two persons are chosen previous to the meeting, to be Lord and Lady of the Ale or Yule, who dress as suitably as they can to those characters; a large barn, or other building is fitted up with seats, &c. for the lord's hall. Here they assemble to dance and regale in the best manner their circumstances and the place will afford; each man treats his sweetheart with a ribbon or favour. The lord and lady attended by the steward, sword, purse, and mace-bearer, with their several badges of office, honour the hall with their presence; they have likewise, in their suit, a page, or train-bearer, and a jester, dressed in a parti-coloured jacket. The lord's music, consisting of a tabor and pipe, is employed to conduct the dance. Companies of morrice-dancers, attended by the jester and tabor and pipe, go about the country on Monday and Tuesday in Whitsun week, and collect sums towards defraying the expenses of the Yule. All the figures of the lord, &c. of the Yule, handsomely represented in basso-relievo, stand in the north wall of the nave of Cirencester Church, which vouches for the antiquity of the custom; and, on many of these occasions, they erect a may-pole, which denotes its rise in Druidism. The mace is made of silk, finely plaited with ribbons on the top, and filled with spices and perfumes for such of the company to smell to as desire it.

    Halbert H.

ANCIENT FUNERAL RITES AMONG THE GREEKS

(For the Mirror.)

The dead were ever held sacred and inviolable even amongst the most barbarous nations; to defraud them of any due respect was a greater and more unpardonable sacrilege than to spoil the temples of the gods; their memories were preserved with a religious care and reverence, and all their remains honoured with worship and adoration; hatred and envy themselves were put to silence, for it was thought a sign of a cruel and inhuman disposition to speak evil of the dead, and prosecute revenge beyond the grave. The ancient Greeks were strongly persuaded that their souls could not be admitted into the Elysian fields till their bodies were committed to the earth; therefore the honours (says Potter) paid to the dead were the greatest and most necessary; for these were looked upon as a debt so sacred, that such as neglected to discharge it were thought accursed. Those who died in foreign countries had usually their ashes brought home and interred in the sepulchres of their ancestors, or at least in some part of their native country; it being thought that the same mother which gave them life and birth, was only fit to receive their remains, and afford them a peaceful habitation after death. Whence ancient authors afford as innumerable instances of bodies conveyed, sometimes by the command of oracles, sometimes by the good-will of their friends, from foreign countries to the sepulchres of their fathers, and with great solemnity deposited there. Thus, Theseus was removed from Scyros to Athens, Orestes from Tegea, &c. Nor was this pious care limited to persons of free condition, but slaves also had some share therein; for we find (says Potter) the Athenian lawgiver commanding the magistrates, called Demarchi, under a severe penalty, to solemnize the funerals, not so much of citizens, whose friends seldom failed of paying the last honours, as of slaves, who frequently were destitute of decent burial.

Those who wasted their patrimony, forfeited their right of being buried in the sepulchres of their fathers. As soon as any person had expired, they closed his eyes. Augustus Caesar, upon the approach of his death, called for a looking-glass, and caused his hair to be combed, and his fallen cheeks decently composed. All the offices about the dead were performed by their nearest relations; nor could a greater misfortune befal any person than to want these respects. When dying, their friends and relations came close to the bed where they lay, to bid them farewell, and catch their dying words, which they never repeated without reverence. The want of opportunity to pay this compliment to Hector, furnishes Andromache with matter of lamentation, which is related in the Iliad. They kissed and embraced the dying person, so taking their last farewell; and endeavoured likewise to receive in their mouth his last breath, as fancying his soul to expire with it, and enter into their bodies. When any person died in debt at Athens, the laws of that city gave leave to creditors to seize the dead body, and deprive it of burial till payment was made; whence the corpse of Miltiades, who died in prison, being like to want the honour of burial, his son Cimon had no other means to release it, but by taking upon himself his father's debts and fetters. Sometime before interment, a piece of money was put into the corpse's mouth, which was thought to be Charon's fare for wafting the departed soul over the infernal river.

    P.T.W.

SINGULAR MANORIAL CUSTOM

(For the Mirror.)

The Manor of Broughton Lindsay, in Lincolnshire, is held under that of Caistor, by this strange service: viz. that annually, upon Palm Sunday, the deputy of the Lord of the Manor of Broughton, attends the church at Caistor, with a new cart whip in his hand, which he cracks thrice in the church porch; and passes with it on his shoulder up the nave into the chancel, and seats himself in the pew of the lord of the manor, where he remains until the officiating minister is about to read the second lesson; he then proceeds with his whip, to the lash of which he has in the meantime affixed a purse, which ought to contain thirty silver pennies (instead of which a single half crown is substituted,) and kneeling down before the reading desk, he holds the purse, suspended over the minister's head, all the time he is reading the lesson. After this he returns to his seat. When divine service is over, he leaves the whip and purse at the manor house.

    H.B.A.

The Contemporary Traveller

MEXICO, OR NEW SPAIN

The name of New Spain was at first given only to Yucatan by Grijalva and his followers; but Cortez extended it to the whole empire of Montezuma, which is described by the earliest writers to have reached from Panama to New California. This, however, appears, from more recent researches, on the accuracy of which Humboldt relies with reason, to have been larger than the reality justified; and the whole of Tenochtitlan may be said to have been contained in the present states of Vera Cruz, Oaxaca, Puebla, Mexico, and Valadolid. In addition to the name given by Cortez, that of the capital was extended to the whole kingdom of New Spain; and since the revolution and the establishment of independence, the several provinces form separate and independent states, confederating together and constituting the nineteen United States of Mexico; viz. Chiapa, Chihuahua, Cohahuila and Texas, Durango, Guanaxuato, Mexico, Michoachan, New Leon, Oaxaca, Puebla, Queretaro, San Luis Potosi, Sonora and Cinaloa, Tabasco, Tamaulipas, Vera Cruz, Xalisco, Yucatan and Zacatecas. Old and New California, Colima, New Mexico, and Tlascala, though forming members of the federation, declined having state governments, on account of the expense, and are designated territories. The whole republic, according to Humboldt, occupies a space of 75,830 square leagues, of twenty to an equinoxial degree; on which there are to be found every inequality of surface, and every variety of soil and climate, the two last of which are dependent in most cases on the former.

The republic of Mexico, taken on the grand scale, may be considered as a succession of small mountain-plains at different heights, separated by mountains, and increasing in magnitude as the coast recedes on both the eastern and western sides, until the great centre plain be reached, which, though much broken by mountain ridges, tends to the north, maintaining nearly an equal elevation. The snow-capped mountains of Orizava, and the volcanos of Puebla and Toluca, are among the most splendid objects in the world. The Mexicans divide the regions of their country into Tierras calientes, Tierras templadas, and Tierras frias, according to the climate. Throughout the whole country there is a lamentable want of water, and of navigable rivers. The lakes, too, appear to be yearly decreasing in extent, the immediate consequence of which is, that the elevated portions of the interior are nearly stripped of vegetation, and the soil covered with an efflorescence of carbonate of soda, there called Tequisquita, resembling very closely the plains of the two Castiles, and recalling to the Eastern traveller the desolate wastes of some parts of Persia.

The effect of elevation on the temperature is most marked, and it is no uncommon thing to be shivering on one side of the street in the city of Mexico, and to be literally scorched by the rays of the sun on the other. Changes are upon record of 55° of Fahrenheit within three hours, on one of the mountain-plains at the same height with the valley of Mexico.

Notwithstanding the volcanic character of Mexico, earthquakes are by no means so frequent there as in some of the neighbouring countries. One of the most memorable on record occurred on the 14th of September, 1759, when the volcano of Jorullo, with several smaller cones, forced the surface of the soil, destroying all before it.

The infinite variety of climate and soil fits this country for the production of the fruits of all regions, from those of the hottest within the tropics to those of the severest cold, where cultivation can be carried on. But the want of ports, and of navigable rivers on the Atlantic, opposes the advantages that might result from this variety of production, though on the Pacific there are a few admirable ports, such as Acapulco. The prevalence of the "Nortes," or northerly winds, at certain seasons, seriously affects the navigation on one side, while that of the "papagallos" is as inconvenient on the other.

The Mexican population is commonly divided into seven classes:—1. European Spaniards, commonly called "gachupines." 2. White Creoles. 3. Mestizos, descendants of Whites and Indians. 4. Mulattoes, descendants of Whites and Blacks. 5. Zambos, from Indians and Negroes. 6. Pure Indians. 7. African Blacks. But this classification may be reduced to four:—1. Whites. 2. Indians. 3. Blacks. 4. Mixed Races, the various gradations of which may be considered almost infinite.

The Indians consist of a considerable number of distinct tribes, differing in many points of appearance, and speaking—not dialects but—languages entirely different. No less than twenty of these have been traced, and of fourteen of them there are already grammars and dictionaries. The Indian population is chiefly centered in the great plains, and towards the south; and Humboldt thinks that it has flowed from the north to the south. The history of four great migrations is preserved in the annals of Mexico, which are worthy of more detailed examination than we can bestow upon them. The great body of these people live apart from the other races of their countrymen, in small villages, full of ignorance, suspicion, and bigotry, and displaying an apparent phlegm, from which it would seem impossible to arouse them. This phlegmatic temperament lessens the credit of the men with the females, who uniformly prefer the European, or the still more vivacious negro. "The indigenous Mexican is grave, melancholic, silent, so long as he is not under the influence of intoxicating liquors. This gravity is peculiarly remarkable in Indian children, who at the age of four or five years display more intelligence and precocity than the children of whites. The Mexican loves to attach mystery even to his most trifling actions; the strongest passions do not display themselves in his countenance; the transition is frightful when it passes suddenly from a state of absolute repose to that of violent and unrestrained agitation." Slavery with them has engendered guile. They are obstinate in all their habits and opinions; their religion is one of mere ceremonial, justifying the observation of a priest to Mr. Ward, "son mui buenos Catolicos, pero mui malos Cristianos" (very good Catholics, but very bad Christians.) Deception in this, as well as in every thing else, is the order of the day; and the Indian Alcalde now oppresses the villagers as much as he himself has ever been.

Humboldt considers the Mexican Indian as destitute of all imagination, though when to a certain degree educated, he attributes to him facility in learning, a clearness of understanding, a natural turn for reasoning, and a particular aptitude to subtilize and seize trifling distinctions.

The music and dancing are as dull as might be expected among beings so full of phlegm. The Mexican has a turn for painting and sculpture; and retains the same fondness for flowers that struck Cortez so forcibly upwards of three centuries ago. The "Indios Bravos," or Wild Indians, are said to display more energy; but our information respecting them is remarkably scanty.

Among the active vices of the Mexican Indian, that of drunkenness prevails to a most lamentable extent. In the upper districts, pulque, or the fermented juice of the aloe, is the principal tempter; sometimes a spirit, distilled from the same plant, called Vino de Mescal; while, in the hotter districts, the same effects are ensured by the chinguirito, a very coarse kind of rum. Combined with this disposition to intoxication, the Indian is constitutionally indolent; and, now that he is a free man, he will rarely work, except to obtain just as much as will afford him the means of enjoying his greatest luxury—that of steeping his senses in oblivion. This last tendency is much to be deplored, as, in the larger towns, we know that every Sunday (which is the day of greatest indulgence) assassinations, to the extent of six or eight each day, are the melancholy consequence of its indulgence. Humboldt states that the police were in the practice of sending tumbrels round, to collect the unhappy victims of intoxication. The punishment was, and we believe still is, three days' labour in the streets; but it does not seem to be very efficacious, for generally within the week the delinquents are again in custody.

There is something characteristic in the indolence of these sombre beings. They will travel immense distances; but to steady labour they are, generally speaking, not prone. It is told of them, that in one of the most fertile districts (the Baxio) it is not unusual for an Indian, on receiving his wages, to get thoroughly drunk, go to sleep, and on awakening renew his potations and repose, until the exhaustion of his finances compels him to return to labour. In some parts, however, there are exceptions to this observation.