"'Nor knew, till seated by thy side,
My heart in all save hope the same.'"
"Why, save hope, my dear Lord? What may you not only hope, but trust, from my constant devotion?"
"I did not mean to tie myself precisely to every word I uttered. It was only a quotation."
"And what is a quotation?"
"A quotation is the vehicle in which imagination posts forward, when she only hires her Pegasus from memory. Or sometimes it is only a quit-rent, which the intellectual cultivator, who farms an idea, pays to the original proprietor; or rather,"—(seeing that he was not making the matter more intelligible by his explanation,)—"or rather, it is when we convey our own thoughts by the means of the more perfect expressions of some favourite author."
"But then, surely you need not be driven to borrow, whose own words always sound to me like a book. As for poor me, I wish I could talk in quotations for ever; then I need not fear to make these mistakes, which, as it is, I am afraid I am always like to do."
(A scene at the Opera is richer still: the performance Semiramide:)
"Lady Gayland took the opportunity of inquiring of Lady Castleton, 'how the opera had amused her?' There was that unmistakable air of real interest in Lady Gayland's manner, whenever she addressed Lucy, which made her always reply in a tone of confidence, different from that which she felt towards any other member of the society in which she moved.
"Why, to tell the honest truth," said she, leaning forwards towards her questioner, "I can't say that I could the least understand what it all meant. It's not likely that people should sing when they're in such sorrow; and then I can't guess why that young man should kill the queen that was so kind to him all along."
"I don't wonder that that should surprise you, my dear; but he was not aware of what he was doing. It was in the dark."
"In the dark! But I could see very well who it was, though I did not know her so well as he did, and was so much farther off."
"I am afraid you are in the dark, too, a little as yet," said Lady Gayland, (tapping her gently with her fan.) "But, tell me, did you not admire the singing, though you could not understand the story."
"Why, I should, perhaps, if I had known the language; but even then they seemed to me more like birds, than men and women singing words. I like a song that I can make out every word that's said."
"The curtain then rose for the ballet; at first, Lucy was delighted with the scenery and pageantry, for the spectacle was grand and imposing. But at length the resounding plaudits announced the entrée of the perfect Taglioni. Lucy was a little astonished at her costume upon her first appearance. She was attired as a goddess, and goddesses' gowns are somewhat of the shortest, and their legs rather au naturel; but when she came to elicit universal admiration by pointing her toe, and revolving in the slow pirouette, Lucy, from the situation in which she sat was overpowered with shame at the effect; and whilst Lady Gayland, with her longnette fixed on the stage, ejaculated, 'Beautiful! inimitable!' the unpractised Lucy could not help exclaiming, 'O that is too bad! I cannot stay to see that!' and she turned her head away blushing deeply."
"Is your ladyship ill?" exclaimed Lord Stayinmore. "Castleton, I am afraid Lady Castleton feels herself indisposed."
"Would you like to go?" kindly inquired Castleton.
"O so much!" she answered.
"Are you ill, my dear?" asked Lady Gayland.
"Oh, no!" she said.
"Then you had better stay, it is so beautiful."
"Thank you, Lord Castleton is kind enough to let me go."
(They get into the carriage.)
"And how do you find yourself now, my dear Lucy?" tenderly inquired Castleton, as the carriage drove off.
"Oh, I am quite well, thank you."
"Quite well! are you? What was it, then, that was the matter with you?"
"There was nothing the matter with me, it was that woman."
"What woman? what can you mean? Did you not say that you were ill; and was not that the reason that we hurried away?"
"No! YOU said I was ill; and I did not contradict you, because you tell me that in the world, as you call it, it is not always right to give the real reason for what we do; and therefore I thought, perhaps, that though of course you wished me to come away, you liked to put it upon my being ill."
"Of course I wished you to come away! I was never more unwilling to move in all my life; and nothing but consideration for your health would have induced me to stir. Why should I have wished you to come away?"
"Why, the naked woman," stammered Lucy.
"What can you mean?"
"You couldn't surely wish me to sit by the side of those people, to see such a thing as that?"
"As to being by the side of those people, I must remind you, that it was Lady Gayland's box in which you were; and that whatever she, with her acknowledged taste and refinement, sanctions with her presence, can only be objected to by ignorance or prejudice. You have still a great deal to learn, my dear Lucy," added he, more kindly; "and nothing can be so fatal to your progress in that respect, as your attempting to lead, or to find fault, with what you do not understand."
"But surely I can understand that it is not right to do what I saw that woman do," interrupted Lucy, presuming a little more doggedly than she usually ventured to do on any subject with her husband; for this time she had been really shocked by what she had seen.
"Wrong it certainly is not, if you mean moral wrong. As to such an exhibition being becoming or not in point of manners, that depends entirely upon custom. Many things at your father's might strike me as coarseness, which made no impression upon you from habit, though much worse in my opinion than this presumed indecorum. Those things probably arose from ignorance on your parts, which might be corrected. This, on the other hand, from conventional indifference, consequent on custom, which it is not in you to correct. Depend upon it you will only get yourself laughed at, and me too, if you preach about dancers' petticoats."
"I don't want to preach to any body; and you know how much it fashes me to contend with you."
"Don't say FASHES, say distresses, or annoys, not fashes, for heaven's sake, my dear Lucy."
"Oh, dear, it was very stupid of me to forget it. That was one of the first things you taught me, and it is a many days since I said it last; but it is so strange to me to venture to differ with you, that I get confused, and don't say any thing as right as I could do. Even now I should like to ask, if modesty is a merit, whether nakedness ought to be a show; but I'll say no more, for I dare say you won't make me go there again."
"No, that will be the best way to settle it."
The plot of the Contrast is not, as the reader may perceive, one of fashionable life: it has more of the romance of nature in its composition: the characters are not the drawling bores that we find in fashionable novels, though their affected freaks are occasionally introduced to contrast with unsophisticated humility, and thus exhibit the deformities of high life. The whole work is, however, light as gossamer: we had almost said that a fly might read it through the meshes, without endangering his patience or liberty.
THE LIBRARY OF ENTERTAINING KNOWLEDGE
Maintains its rank in sober, we mean useful, literature. The volume before us contains such matter as is only to be found in large and expensive works, with a host of annotations from the journals of recent travellers and other volumes which bear upon the main subject. This part of the series, describing vegetable substances used for the food of man, is executed with considerable minuteness. A Pythagorean would gloat over its accuracy, and a vegetable diet man would become inflated with its success in establishing his eccentricities. The contents are the Corn-plants, Esculent Roots, Herbs, Spices, Tea, Coffee, &c. &c. In such a multiplicity of facts as the history of these plants must necessarily include, some misstatements may be expected. For example, the opinion that succory is superior to coffee, though supported by Drs. Howison and Duncan, is not entitled to notice. All over the continent, succory, or chicorée, is used to adulterate coffee, notwithstanding which a few scheming persons have attempted to introduce it in this country as an improvement, by selling it at four times its worth. Why say "it is sometimes considered superior to the exotic berry," and in the same page, "it is not likely to gain much esteem, where economy is not the consideration." We looked in vain for mention of the President of the Horticultural Society under Celery; though we never eat a fine head of this delicious vegetable without grateful recollection of Mr. T.A. Knight. All preachment of the economy of the Potato is judiciously omitted, though we fear to the displeasure of Sir John Sinclair; nor is there more space devoted to this overpraised root than it deserves. Truffles are not only used "like mushrooms," but for stuffing game and poultry, especially in France: who does not remember the perdrixaux truffes, of the Parisian carte. The chapter on coffee, cacao, tea, and sugar, is brief but entertaining. We may observe, by the way, that one of the obstacles to the profitable cultivation of tea in this country is our ignorance of the modes of drying, &c. as practised in China.
Another volume of the Entertaining Series, published since that just noticed, contains a selection of Criminal Trials, amongst which are those of Throckmorton and the Duke of Norfolk, for treason. They are, in the main, reprints from the State Trials, which the professional editor states to contain a large fund of instruction and entertainment. We have been deceived in the latter quality, though we must admit that in judicious hands, a volume of untiring interest might be wrought up from the State records. As they are, their dulness and prolixity are past endurance. As the present work proceeds in chronological order, it will doubtless improve in its entertaining character, since no class of literature has been more enriched by the publication of journals, diaries, &c., than historical biography, which will thus enable the editor to enliven his pages with characteristic traits of the principal actors. This has been done, to some extent, in the portion before us, and in like manner fits the volume for popular reading.
MANNERS & CUSTOMS OF ALL NATIONS
FIRE TEMPLES IN PERSIA
Persian Temple
These mystical relics are but a short journey from the celebrated ruins of Persepolis. Mr. Buckingham describes them in his usual picturesque language: "Having several villages in sight, as the sun rose, with cultivated land, flocks, trees, and water, we arrived at the foot of the mountain, which forms the northern boundary of the plain of Merdusht. The first object we saw on the west was a small rock, on which stood two fire altars of a peculiar form: their dimensions were five feet square at the base, and three at the top, and they were five feet high. There were pillars or pilasters at the corners, and arches in the sides. In the centre of each of these, near the top, was a square basin, about eight inches in diameter, and six in depth, for the reception of the fire, formerly used by the disciples of Zoroaster in their worship."
Like Pythagoras, it may be here observed, Zoroaster, the inventer of Magic, or the doctrines of the Magi, admitted no visible object of devotion except fire, which he considered as the most proper emblem of a supreme being; these doctrines seem to have been preserved by Numa, in the worship and ceremonies which he instituted in honour of Vesta. According to some of the moderns, the doctrines, laws, and regulations of Zoroaster are still extant, and they have been lately introduced in Europe, in a French translation by M. Anquetil.
Mr. Buckingham notices an existing custom, which he attributes to this reverence to fire. "Throughout all Persia, a custom prevails of giving the salute 'Salami Alaikom,' whenever the first lighted lamp or candle is brought into the room in the evening; and this is done between servants and masters as well as between equals. As this is not practised in any other Mahommedan country, it is probably a relic of the ancient reverence to fire, once so prevalent here, though the form of the salute is naturally that of the present religion."
THE NATURALIST