The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 19, No. 543, Saturday, April 21, 1832.

"Before we had been ten minutes together my heart was knit to Southey, and every hour thereafter my esteem for him increased. I breakfasted with him next morning, and remained with him all that day and the next; and the weather being fine, we spent the time in rambling on the hills and sailing on the lake; and all the time he manifested a delightful flow of spirits, as well as a kind sincerity of manner, repeating convivial poems and ballads, and always between hands breaking jokes on his nephew, young Coleridge, in whom he seemed to take great delight. He gave me, with the utmost readiness, a poem and ballad of his own, for a work which I then projected. I objected to his going with Coleridge and me, for fear of encroaching on his literary labours; and, as I had previously resided a month at Keswick, I knew every scene almost in Cumberland; but he said he was an early riser, and never suffered any task to interfere with his social enjoyments and recreations; and along with us he went both days.

"Southey certainly is as elegant a writer as any in the kingdom. But those who would love Southey as well as admire him, must see him, as I did, in the bosom, not only of one lovely family, but of three, all attached to him as a father, and all elegantly maintained and educated, it is generally said, by his indefatigable pen. The whole of Southey's conversation and economy, both at home and afield, left an impression of veneration on my mind, which no future contingency shall ever either extinguish or injure. Both his figure and countenance are imposing, and deep thought is strongly marked in his dark eye; but there is a defect in his eyelids, for these he has no power of raising; so that, when he looks up, he turns up his face, being unable to raise his eyes; and when he looks towards the top of one of his romantic mountains, one would think he was looking at the zenith. This peculiarity is what will most strike every stranger in the appearance of the accomplished laureate. He does not at all see well at a distance, which made me several times disposed to get into a passion with him, because he did not admire the scenes which I was pointing out. We have only exchanged a few casual letters since that period, and I have never seen this great and good man again."

In the Recollections of Wordsworth we find related the affront which led to Hogg's caricature of Wordsworth's style, an offence which shut out the Shepherd from the society of the amiable poet of the Lakes.

"This anecdote has been told and told again, but never truly; and was likewise brought forward in the 'Noctes Ambrosianæ,' as a joke; but it was no joke; and the plain, simple truth of the matter was thus:—

It chanced one night, when I was there, that there was a resplendent arch across the zenith from the one horizon to the other, of something like the aurora borealis, but much brighter. It was a scene that is well remembered, for it struck the country with admiration, as such a phenomenon had never before been witnessed in such perfection; and, as far as I could learn, it had been more brilliant over the mountains and pure waters of Westmoreland than any where else. Well, when word came into the room of the splendid meteor, we all went out to view it; and, on the beautiful platform at Mount Ryedale we were all walking, in twos and threes, arm-in-arm, talking of the phenomenon, and admiring it. Now, be it remembered, that Wordsworth, Professor Wilson, Lloyd, De Quincey, and myself, were present, besides several other literary gentlemen, whose names I am not certain that I remember aright. Miss Wordsworth's arm was in mine, and she was expressing some fears that the splendid stranger might prove ominous, when I, by ill luck, blundered out the following remark, thinking that I was saying a good thing:—'Hout, me'em! it is neither mair nor less than joost a treeumphal airch, raised in honour of the meeting of the poets.' 'That's not amiss.—Eh? Eh?—that's very good,' said the Professor, laughing. But Wordsworth, who had De Quincey's arm, gave a grunt, and turned on his heel, and leading the little opium-chewer aside, he addressed him in these disdainful and venomous words:—'Poets? Poets?—What does the fellow mean?—Where are they?' Who could forgive this? For my part, I never can, and never will! I admire Wordsworth; as who does not, whatever they may pretend? but for that short sentence I have a lingering ill-will at him which I cannot get rid of. It is surely presumption in any man to circumscribe all human excellence within the narrow sphere of his own capacity. The 'Where are they?' was too bad! I have always some hopes that De Quincey was leeing, for I did not myself hear Wordsworth utter the words."

Appended to this anecdote is a characteristic observation on the poetry of Wordsworth.

"It relates to the richness of his works for quotations. For these they are a mine that is altogether inexhaustible. There is nothing in nature that you may not get a quotation out of Wordsworth to suit, and a quotation too that breathes the very soul of poetry. There are only three books in the world that are worth the opening in search of mottos and quotations, and all of them are alike rich. These are, the Old Testament, Shakspeare, and the poetical works of Wordsworth, and, strange to say, the 'Excursion' abounds most in them."

We chanced to fall upon the Shepherd's allusion to the liberties taken with his name in Blackwood's Magazine, which work owes its establishment and much of its early success to Mr. Hogg's co-operation. We believe it to be pretty well known that the offensive language attributed to the Shepherd in the "Noctes" has no more to do with Mr. Hogg than by attempting to imitate his conversational style. This impropriety, which is beyond a literary joke, was reprobated some months since by the Quarterly Review, but here the offending parties are properly visited with a burst of honest indignation which may not pass unheeded. Mr. Hogg says

"For my part, after twenty years of feelings hardly suppressed, he has driven me beyond the bounds of human patience. That Magazine of his, which owes its rise principally to myself, has often put words and sentiments into my mouth of which I have been greatly ashamed, and which have given much pain to my family and relations, and many of those after a solemn written promise that such freedoms should never be repeated. I have been often urged to restrain and humble him by legal measures as an incorrigible offender deserves. I know I have it in my power, and if he dares me to the task, I want but a hair to make a tether of."

The Shepherd appears to have written since 1813, fifteen volumes of poetry and as many volumes of prose, besides his contributions to periodical works; and, what is not the less extraordinary he was forty years of age before he wrote his first poem.

The Tales in the present volume are the Adventures of Captain Lochy, the Pongos, and Marion's Jock.

THE GATHERER

Marriage Tree.—A marriage tree, generally of the pine kind, is planted in the churchyard, by every new-married couple, in the parish of Varallo Pombio, in the Tyrol. A fine grove of pines, the result of this custom, now shades this churchyard.

W.G.C.

Slippery Love.—Thevenard was the first singer of his time, at Paris, in the operas of Lulli. He was more than sixty years old when, seeing a beautiful female slipper in a shoemaker's shop, he fell violently in love, unsight, unseen, with the person for whom it was made; and having discovered the lady, married her. He died at Paris in 1741, at the age of 72.

    P.T.W.

Character of England

Anglia, 1 Mons, 2 Pons, 3 Fons, 4 Ecclesia, 5 Faemina, 6 Lana.

(That is to say:)

For 1, Mountains; 2, Bridges; 3, Rivers; 4, Churches faire; 5, Women; and 6, Wool, England is past compare.

    G.K.

On our Lady Church in Salisbury.

How many dayes in one whole year there be,
So many windows in one church we see,
So many marble pillars there appear,
As there are hours throughout the fleeting year.
So many gates, as moons one year do view,
Strange tale to tell, yet not so strange as true.

    G.K.
Astronomical Toasts.—Lord Chesterfield dined one day with the French and Spanish ambassadors. After dinner, toasts were proposed. The Spanish ambassador proposed the King of Spain under the title of the Sun. The French ambassador gave his king as the Moon. Lord C. then arose, "Your excellencies," said he, "have taken the two greatest luminaries, and the Stars are too small for a comparison with my royal master. I therefore beg to give your excellencies, Joshua."

Talleyrand.—(The following bon mot is worthy of extract from the Literary Gazette, and smacks of the raciest days of the noble utterer.) M. Talleyrand was enjoying his rubber, when the conversation turned on the recent union of an elderly lady of respectable rank. "However could Madame de S– make such a match? a person of her birth to marry a valet-de-chambre!" "Ah," replied Talleyrand, "it was late in the game; at nine we don't reckon honours."

Remarkable Circumstance.—William Coghan, who was at Oxford in the year 1575, when the sweating sickness raged at that place, and who has given a brief account of its ravages, says, "It began on the sixth day of July, from which day to the twelfth day of August next ensuing, there died five hundred and ten persons, all men and no women."

    P.T.W.

A Loyalist.—The Earl of St. Alban's was, like many other staunch loyalists, little remembered by Charles II. He was, however, an attendant at court, and one of his majesty's companions in his gay hours. On one such occasion, a stranger came with an importunate suit, for an office of great value, just vacant. The king, by way of joke, comsired the earl to personate him, and demanded the petitioner to be admitted. The gentleman addressing himself to the supposed monarch, enumerated his services to the royal family, and hoped the grant of the place would not be deemed too great a reward. "By no means," answered the earl, "and I am only sorry that as soon as I heard of the vacancy, I conferred it on my faithful friend, the Earl of St. Alban's," pointing to the king, "who constantly followed the fortunes, both of my father and myself, and has hitherto gone unrewarded." Charles granted, for this joke, what the utmost real services looked for in vain.

    T. GILL.

notes

1

Picture of Scotland, vol. i.

2

Built by David I. in 1136.

3

Corbells, the projections from which the arches spring, usually cut in a fantastic face, or mask.

4

Sir Walter Scott's "Lay of the Last Minstrel."

5

Footnote 5:

Has Scotland no paupers to whom the gift of wood fuel might prove acceptable, in spite of peat? We have in England abundance of wood, yet our own poor are distressed for it, glad to pick up sticks for firing, and often steal it from fences, &c. in their necessity, and the gift of wood is to them a charity, as well as that of coals. Why should aught that could he made of use, be wantonly destroyed? It is contrary to Scripture; it is in opposition to common sense.

6

From the following lines of Oppian, the rambling spirit of eels seems to have been known to the ancients—

The wandering eel,
Oft to the neighbouring beach will silent steal"

7

I have been informed, upon the authority of a nobleman well known for his attachment to field sports, that, if an eel is found on land, its head is invariably turned towards the sea, for which it is always observed to make in the most direct line possible. If this information is correct (and there seems to be no reason to doubt it.) it shows that the eel, like the swallow, is possessed of a strong migratory instinct. May we not suppose that the swallow, like the eel, performs its migrations in the same undeviating course?