The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 20, No. 562, Saturday, August 18, 1832.

Death alone points out the road to success.

God! united we will dare it;
Firm this heart shall meet its fate,
To the altar thus I bear it,
And my coming doom await.
Fatherland, for thee we perish,
At thy fell command 'tis done,
May our loved ones ever cherish
Freedom, which our blood has won.
Liberty, grow o'er each oak-shadow'd plain,
Grow o'er the tombs of thy warriors slain,
Fatherland, hear thou the oath we have sworn.

Brothers, towards your hearts' best treasures,
Cast one look, on earth the last,
Turn then from those once prized pleasures,
Wither'd by the hostile blast.
Though your eyes be dim with weeping,
Tears like these are not from fear,
Trust to God's own holy keeping,
With your last kiss, all that's dear.
All lips that pray for us, all hearts that we rend
With parting, O father, to thee we commend,
Protect them and shield them from wrongs and despair.

    H.

EQUANIMITY OF TEMPER

Goodness of temper may be defined, to use the happy imagery of Gray, "as the sunshine of the heart." It is a more valuable bosom-attendant under the pressure of poverty and adversity, and when we are approaching the confines of infirmity and old age, than when we are revelling in the full tide of plenty, amid the exuberant strength and freshness of youth. Lord Bacon, who has analyzed some of the human accompaniments so well, is silent as to the softening sway and pleasing influence of this choice attuner of the human mind. But Shaftesbury, the illustrious author of the Characteristics, was so enamoured of it, that he terms "gravity (its counterpart,) the essence of imposture;" and so it is, for to what purpose does a man store his brain with knowledge, and the profitable burden of the sciences, if he gathers only superciliousness and pride from the hedge of learning? instead of the milder traits of general affection, and the open qualities of social feelings. I remember, when a youth, I was extremely fond of attending the House of Commons, to hear the debates; and I shall never forget the repulsive loftiness which I thought marked the physiognomy of Pitt; harsh and unbending, like a settled frost, he seemed wrapped in the mantle of egotism and sublunary conceit; and it was from the uninviting expression of this great man's countenance, that I first drew my conceptions as to how a proud and unsociable man looked. With very different emotions I was wont to survey the mild but expressive features of his great opponent, Fox: there was a placidity mixed up with the graver lines of thought and reflection, that would have invited a child to take him by the hand; indeed, the witchcraft of Mr. Fox's temper was such, that it formed a triumphant source of gratulation in the circle of his friends, from the panegyric of the late Earl of Carlisle, during his boyish days at Eton, to the prouder posthumous circles of fame with which the elegant author of The Pleasures of Memory, has entwined his sympathetic recollections. The late Mr. Whitbread, although an unflinching advocate for the people's rights, and an incorruptible patriot in the true sense of the word, was unpopular in his office as a country magistrate, owing to a tone of severity he generally used to those around him. The wife of that indefatigable toiler in the Christian field, John Wesley, was so acid and acrimonious in her temper, that that mild advocate for spiritual affection, found it impossible to live with her. Rousseau was tormented by such a host of ungovernable passions, that he became a burden to himself and to every one around him. Lord Byron suffered a badness of temper to corrode him in the flower of his days. Contrasted with this unpleasing part of the perspective, let us quote the names of a few wise and good men, who have been proverbial for the goodness of their tempers; as Shakspeare, Francis I., and Henry IV. of France; "the great and good Lord Lyttleton," as he is called to the present day; John Howard, Goldsmith, Sir Samuel Romilly, Franklin, Thomson, the poet, Sheridan,[2 - May we not, however, say the friendless Sheridan?] and Sir Walter Scott. The late Sir William Curtis was known to be one of the best tempered men of his day, which made him a great favourite with the late king. I remember a little incident of Sir William's good-nature, which occurred about a year after he had been Lord Mayor. In alighting from his carriage, a little out of the regular line, near the Mansion House, upon some day of festivity, he happened inadvertently, with the skirts of his coat, to brush down a few apples from a poor woman's stall, on the side of the pavement. Sir William was in full dress, but instead of passing on with the hauteur which characterizes so many of his aldermanic brethren, he set himself to the task of assisting the poor creature to collect her scattered fruit; and on parting, observing some of her apples were a little soiled by the dirt, he drew his hand from his pocket and generously gave her a shilling. This was too good an incident for John Bull to lose: a crowd assembled, hurraed, and cried out, "Well done, Billy," at which the good-natured baronet looked back and laughed. How much more pleasing is it to tell of such demeanour than of the foolish pride of the late Sir John Eamer, who turned away one of his travellers merely because he had in one instance used his bootjack.

The author of "A Tradesman's Lays."

Probably our correspondent may recollect Sir William and the orange, at one of the contested City elections. A "greasy rogue" before the hustings, seeing the baronet candidate take an orange from his pocket, put up for the fruit, with the cry "Give us that orange, Billy." Sir William threw him the fruit, which the fellow had no sooner sucked dry, than he began bawling with increased energy, "No Curtis," "No Billy," &c. Such an ungrateful act would have soured even Seneca; but Sir William merely gave a smile, with a good-natured shake of the head. Sir William Curtis possessed a much greater share of shrewdness and good sense than the vulgar ever gave him credit for. At the Sessions' dinners, he would keep up the ball of conversation with the judges and gentlemen of the bar, in a fuller vein than either of his brother aldermen. It is true that he had wealth and distinction, all which his fellow citizens at table did not enjoy; and these possessions, we know, are wonderful helps to confidence, if they do not lead the holder on to assurance.—Ed. M.

THE SKETCH BOOK

EXTRACTS FROM THE ORIGINAL LETTERS OF AN OFFICER IN INDIA.[3 - Communicated by M.L.B., Great Marlow, Bucks.]

The Sight of a Tiger.[4 - Vide Mirror, vol. xviii. p. 343.—Note.]

Secunderabad, 1828

A short time since, a brother sub. in my regiment was riding out round some hills adjoining the cantonment, when a cheetar, small tiger (or panther,) pounced on his dog. Seeing his poor favourite in the cheetar's mouth, like a mouse in Minette's, he put spurs to his horse, rode after the beast, and so frightened him, that he dropped the dog and made off. Three of us, including myself, then agreed to sit up that night, and watch for the tiger, feeling assured that his haunt was not far from our cantonment. So we started late at night, armed cap-à-pied, and each as fierce in heart as ten tigers; arrived at the appointed spot, and having selected a convenient place for concealment, we picketed a sheep, brought with us purposely to entice the cheetar from his lair. Singular to relate, this poor animal, as if instinctively aware of its critical situation, was as mute as if it had been mouthless, and during two or three hours in which we tormented it, to make it utter a cry, our efforts were of no avail. Hour after hour slipped away, still no cheetar; and about three o'clock in the morning, wearied with our fruitless vigil, we all began to drop asleep. I believe I was wrapped in a most leaden slumber, and dreaming of anything but watching for, and hunting tigers, when I was aroused by the most unnatural, unearthly, and infernal roaring ever heard. This was our friend, and for his reception, starting upon our feet, we were all immediately ready; but the cunning creature who had no idea of becoming our victim, made off, with the most hideous howlings, to the shelter of a neighbouring eminence; when sufficient daylight appeared, we followed the direction of his voice, and had the felicity of seeing him perched on the summit of an immense high rock, just before us, placidly watching our movements. We were here, too far from him to venture a shot, but immediately began ascending, when the creature seeing us approach, rose, opened his ugly red mouth in a desperate yawn, and stretched himself with the utmost nonchalance, being, it seems, little less weary than ourselves. We presented, but did not fire, because at that very moment, setting up his tail, and howling horribly, he disappeared behind the rock. Quick as thought we followed him, but to our great disappointment and chagrin, he had retreated into one of the numerous caverns formed in that ugly place, by huge masses of rock, piled one upon the other. Into some of these dangerous places, however, we descended, sometimes creeping, sometimes walking, in search of our foe; but not finding him, at length returned to breakfast, which I thought the most agreeable and sensible part of the affair. Some wit passed amongst us respecting the propriety of changing the name cheetar, into cheat-us; but were, on the whole, not pleased by the failure of our expedition; and I have only favoured you with this romantic incident in the life of a sub. as a specimen of the sort of amusement we meet with in quarters.

Natural Zoological Garden.

Secunderabad, 1828.

Your description of the London Zoological Garden, reminds me that there is, what I suppose I must term, a most beautiful Zoological Hill, just one mile and a half from the spot whence I now write; on this I often take my recreation, much to the alarm of its inhabitants; viz. sundry cheetars, bore-butchers, (or leopards) hyenas, wolves, jackalls, foxes, hares, partridges, etc.; but not being a very capital shot, I have seldom made much devastation amongst them. Under the hill are swamps and paddy-fields, which abound in snipe and other game. Now, is not this a Zoological Garden on the grandest scale?

H.C.B

OLD POETS

BALLAD OF AGINCOURT

(From "England's Heroical Epistles[5 - A Collection of Poems of the Sixteenth Century.—Communicated by J.F., of Gray's Inn. We thank our Correspondent for the present, and shall be happy to receive further specimens from the same source.].")

Faire stood the wind for France,
When we, our sayles advance,
Nor now to proue our chance
Longer will tarry;
But putting to the mayne,
At Kaux, the mouth of Sene,
With all his martiall trayne,
Landed King Harry.

And taking many a fort,
Furnished in warlike sort,
Marcheth towards Agincourt,
In happy houre.
Skirmishing day by day,
With those that stop'd his way,
Where the French gen'ral lay
With all his power.

Which in his hight of pride.
King Henry to deride,
His ransom to prouide,
To our king sending.
Which he neglects the while,
As from a nation vile,
Yet with an angry smile,
Their fall portending.

And turning to his men,
Quoth our brave Henry, then,
"Though they to one be ten,
Be not amazed,
Yet have we well begunne,
Battells so bravely wonne,
Have ever to the sonne,
By fame beene raysed."

"And for myself," quoth he,
"This my full rest shall be,
England ne'er mourn for me,
Nor more esteem me.