Читать книгу: «The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 14, No. 396, October 31, 1829», страница 6

Through the Giant's Gate, so called from a colossal statue reclining upon it, there is an opening to the Scheldt;—without is the quay, covered with merchandize unloading from the ships in the river, and serving as an evening promenade. Here you may see the other eminences of the city occasionally, but the gigantic one—always: it stalks out from amidst the cluster of buildings your constant companion wherever you go—as you walk along, it appears to move with you, and when you stop it waits with patience until you go on again. On another occasion we took a boat on the Scheldt, and landing at some distance below the town, had a delightful walk along its banks, which are elevated like part of Milbank, near Vauxhall-bridge; and the situation has much the same character. The river, however, is grander, as I should judge it to be twice the width of the Thames at London-bridge, and it flows with great rapidity. It was a charming evening, and we saw the sun set in all his glory down the Scheldt, in the bosom of which were reflected the endless tints of the sky, whose golden brilliancy was beautifully relieved by the intervention of some cottages near us, and a pretty village, with its church-spire a little further off. On one side was the flat cultivated country of Flanders, and looking up the river, we beheld the shipping and the whole city: all the churches and towers raised their varied forms, but still only to do homage, as it were, to the great pile which outstripped them, and which was lit up by the radiance of the departed sun. Model of splendour! "from morn 'till dewy eve" how must thy elegant form be engraven on the hearts of the natives of the city thou overlookest, exciting emotions of home, like the craggy rock of the Highlanders, when they are absent in distant lands! and how must the youth, whom the love of art carries to study the treasures of Venice and Rome, when returning to shed a lustre upon his natal place—of being one day named with Matsys and Rubens, and the other splendid painters by whom it has been adorned—how must the first glance that he catches of thy hallowed height make his heart throb with endearing thoughts of the friends he left under thy shade, and absorb for the moment all feelings of ambition in the recollection of the boyish days passed within thy ken—but now, alas, departed for ever! May the fires of heaven, and the tremblings of earth, never injure thy venerable beauty; but may thousands, and tens of thousands, in time to come, as in time past, gaze upon thee—as I, an obscure, nameless stranger, have done—with thoughts too deep for words!

During the evening I have alluded to we were accompanied by the accomplished Miss –, whose talents must be well known to many of our own artists who have visited Antwerp; and this being her native place, her conversation gave us those kindly associations of home, without which no scenes, however beautiful or however uncommon, can penetrate the inmost recesses of the soul.

W.G.

Our Correspondent, in a few introductory lines, modestly, though somewhat unnecessarily, apologizes for the enthusiasm of the reflective portion of the previous sketch. He will perceive that we have ventured upon a few slight alterations. He concludes his note to us with an assurance that "the feelings were sincere, however trifling the thoughts, or inadequate the expression." Of his sincerity we have no doubt; and where the feelings of a writer are so honourable to his heart as are many in this paper, we are not fastidious enough to quarrel with inadvertencies of the head. All have felt the overpowering effect produced by the contemplation of the sublimities of art, but comparatively few are aware of the difficulty of embodying these first impressions in descriptive detail.—ED.

THE GATHERER

 
A snapper up of unconsidered trifles.
 

SHAKSPEARE.

Vivian Grey pronounces school ushers execrable wretches, because they wear pepper and salt pantaloons; Lady Morgan improves upon him, declaring the man who wears a white waistcoat in the morning, or the woman who curtsies at a drawing-room door, out of the pale of society. It is surprising that people will write such rubbish as this—more surprising that others will print it— most surprising that folks buy it—and as Cobbett would say, what surprises us "most of all," is that people read it.

Q.

ORIGIN OF THE WORD FARM

Spelman derives this word from the Saxon term fearme, or feorme, which signifies victus, food, or provision, as the tenants and country people anciently paid their rents in victuals and other necessaries of life, but which was afterwards converted into the payment of certain sums of money. Hence a ferm was originally a place which furnished or supplied its owner or lord with provisions.

P.T.W.

At an inn in a market town upon the road to Holyhead, a gentleman sat in the kitchen smoking his pipe, and watching with anxiety a fowl that was roasting for his supper. At length a tall, meagre figure stalked in, and after an earnest and melancholy look at the fowl, retired with a sigh. Repeating his visit he exclaimed, "That fowl will never be done in time." "What do you mean?" said the gentleman, "that fowl is for my supper, and you shan't touch a bit of it." "Oh," replied the other, "you misunderstand me; I don't want the fowl; but I am to play Oroonoko this evening, and we cannot begin for want of the jack chain."

C.C.

THOMAS PAINE

When Paine's "Rights of Man," reached Lewes, where he married a Miss Olive, the women as with one voice, said, "Od rot im, let im come ear if he dast, an we'll tell him what the Rights of Women is; we'll toss im in a blanket, and ring im out of Lewes wi our frying pans."—Cheetham's Life of Paine.

EPIGRAM

Ah, Lucy, 'twas a roguish thought That kindled up that rosy hue; True, 'twas a roguish thought, for I, Thought none so great a rogue as you.

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