Читать книгу: «The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 20, No. 583, December 29, 1832», страница 3

SUMPTUARY LAWS

These laws were made to restrain excess in apparel, costly furniture, eating, &c.

Zaleucus, the ancient philosopher and legislator of Greece, ordained that no woman should go attended with more than one maid in the street, except she was drunk. He prohibited the use of wine, otherwise than as a medicine, &c.

Among the Romans there were sumptuary laws to restrain the number of guests at feasts;—not only the master of the feast, but all the guests too, were liable to the penalty. It was also enacted, that more than ten asses should not be spent at any ordinary feast. Ten asses was the price of a sheep.

Luxury was restricted in England in 1337; wherein the prelates and nobility were confined to two courses every meal, and two kinds of food in every course, except on great festivals. All who did not enjoy a fee estate of 100l. per annum were also prohibited from wearing furs, skins, or silk; and the use of foreign cloth was confined to the royal family alone—to all others it was prohibited. An edict was issued by Charles VI. of France, which says, "Let no one presume to treat with more than a soup and two dishes," 1340.

Sumptuary laws were made in England, in former times, against picked shoes, short doublets, and long coats. The dandies of ancient days wore the beaks or points of their shoes so long, that they encumbered themselves in their walking, and were forced to tie them up to their knees; the fine gentlemen fastened theirs with chains of silver, or silver gilt, and others with laces. This ridiculous custom was in vogue from the year 1382; but was prohibited, on the forfeiture of 20s. and the pain of cursing by the clergy, 1467.

In the reign of King Henry IV., Camden says—Pride was got so much into the foot, that it was proclaimed that no man should wear shoes above six inches broad at the toes; and other garments were so short, that it was enacted, under Edward IV., that no person under the condition of a lord wear any mantle or gown, unless of such length.

P.T.W

MARRIAGE CUSTOM

The following singular, though highly useful custom, formerly existed in England: viz.—"There was usually carried before the mayde, when she shoulde be married, and came to dwell in hir husbande's house, a distaffe, charged with flaxe, and a spyndle hanging at it, to the intente shee might bee myndeful to lyve by hir labour." The foregoing is extracted from "A Treatise wherein dicing dauncing, vaine plays, or enterludes; with other idle pastimes, commonly used on the Sabbath-day, are proved by the authoritie of the word of God, and ancient writers; by John Northbrook, minister and preacher of the word of God."

JUVENIS

NATIONAL CAPRICES

The Persian, it is said, will endure suffocation before he will blow the fire with his breath; the Indian places supreme perfection in besmearing himself with cow-dung; the Mussulman believes himself purified from all his sins by the ablution of his head and arms: the only question with him is, "whether the ceremony ought to begin at the elbow or at the points of his fingers;" but so great is the difference of opinion on this head, that if two Mahometans meet on a journey, and accost each other with brotherly affection, by the one beginning his ablution at his fingers' ends, and the other at his elbow, they instantly separate and become mortal enemies.

WALTER E.C

RETROSPECTIVE GLEANINGS

THE POST OFFICE

In the year 1635, Charles I. directed his postmaster to open a communication between London and Edinburgh, &c. &c. In 1653-4, the revenues of the Post-office were farmed by the Council of State and Protector, at 10,000l. per annum. Some idea of their progressive increase may be gained by the perusal of the following:—

Since 1814, Mr. Macculloch considers the revenue of the Post-office to have been about stationary.

ANTIQUARES

BEDE'S CHAIR

This curious relic is preserved in the vestry of the ancient church of Jarrow, two miles from South Shields, in the county of Durham. It is a large chair of oak, traditionally said to have been the seat of the VENERABLE BEDE, the pre-eminent boast of the monastery, a portion only of the church of which establishment remains at Jarrow. The chair is very rudely formed, and, with the exception of the back, is of great age. To have been possessed by Bede, it must be eleven hundred years old; but there is no precisely authentic testimony of its belonging to that learned writer. The Danes and Normans are said to have plundered the monastery of all its valuables; though it is reasonable to suppose, that the monks would preserve the seat of their principal with more reverential care, and attach to it more importance, than they would to any other article of furniture. Mr. Fosbroke, the diligent antiquarian, refers to it as Bede's Chair in accredited manner; that is, as taken for granted, or without note or comment of doubt.

Venerable Bede was born at Wearmouth, A.D. 672, only a few years after the introduction of Christianity into Northumberland. When seven years of age, he was received into the monastery of his native place, where his infant mind acquired the rudiments of that knowledge which has rendered his memory immortal. When only nineteen, he was ordained deacon; and, even at that early age, was regarded as exemplary for his piety and studious life: he was subsequently removed to the new foundation at Jarrow, where he continued to study throughout a long life. The results of his monastic seclusion furnish a bright page even in these dark ages. "Such was the authority of his writings, that, though only a humble monk in the most remote, barbarous, and recently converted of the Saxon principalities, he attained (what was even then) the singular honour of being the most celebrated writer of Christendom for more centuries than one."⁵ His great work is entitled, an "Ecclesiastical History," detailing ecclesiastical with civil events; which was, indeed, inevitable, when the ecclesiastics were the only men of knowledge. Bede believed in miraculous interpositions, and honestly related them; nevertheless, our obligations to his industry are invaluable. To him we owe all our knowledge of English history, from the landing of the Saxons in Kent to his time, (nearly three centuries,) and all our certain information respecting the various tribes who then inhabited the island: from him it is apparent that the work called the Saxon Chronicle copies long passages. Bede also translated St. John's Gospel into English; and it is said, that a copy of some of St. Paul's Epistles, in Bede's handwriting, is still preserved in the library of Trinity College, Cambridge. His works, published at Basle, extend to eight folio volumes.

Bede died May 26, 735, in the sixty-third year of his age. He was first buried in his own monastery, but his remains were afterwards removed, and interred in Durham cathedral; and, being subsequently canonized, he was enrolled in the Romish calendar of saints. His character is thus drawn by William of Malmsbury:—"He was a man, that, although born in the extreme corner of the world, yet the light of his learning spread over all parts of the earth. All the hours which he had to spare from the monastic exercises of prayer, and singing in the choirs by day and night, (in which he was constant, and very devout,) he most diligently spent in study, and divided his whole time between that and his devotions."

The Chair is not the only memorial of Bede preserved in this neighbourhood. About one mile west of Jarrow is a Well, still called St. Bede's, to which it was customary, almost as late as the middle of the last century, to convey diseased children, and, after dropping in a crooked pin, to dip them for the recovery of their health: round the Well, also, on every Midsummer Eve, was a great resort of the neighbouring people, with bonfires, music, and dancing. The mystical properties of the Well are not of difficult solution: since it was reasonable enough to associate the restorative effects of cold bathing with sanctity; and the rejoicings at the spring were indicative of the gladness of the people, in connexion with a name endeared to them, by the wisdom, virtue, and benevolence, of its possessor.

GOLD-BEATING

Early in the 17th century, great surprise was excited upon the promulgation of the fact, that the Parisian gold-beaters could produce 1,600 leaves, or 105 square feet, from one ounce of gold; but the surprise of the public was redoubled, when, upon the discovery of the fine skin now in use, they found that 147 square feet could be produced from the same quantity.

ANTIQUARES

MONUMENT OF A CRUSADER

In the great north aisle of Winchester Cathedral, in a dark nook immediately adjoining the wall of the choir, is the mutilated effigies of a Crusader, recumbent on an oblong stone. The figure is armed cap-a-pee, in a hauberk,⁶ with sword and shield, the latter of which bears, quarterly, two bulls passant, gorged with collars and bells, and three garbs, being the armorial bearings of the noble family of De Foix, of which was the Captal de Buck, one of the first Knights of the Garter, at the commencement of the Order. On a slab, placed perpendicularly against the adjoining wall of the choir, are several shields, emblazoned with the arms of the royal families of England, France, Castile. Leon, &c. There is no inscription remaining to point out for whom this figure was intended; but Gall, in his "Antiquities of Winchester," gives the following inscription as having existed on the monument:—"Hic jacet Willielmus comes de insula Vana, alias Wincall;" the parish of that name lies on the river Itchin, and might formerly have been insulated. The verger of Winchester Cathedral, in reply to an inquiry made by the editor of the "Antiquarian and Topographical Cabinet," said, it was a knight of the name of Fox, evidently meaning De Foix. This figure suffered severely from the iconoclasts, at the time of Cromwell's taking possession of Winchester. Amongst other mutilations, they have entirely hacked away the right leg, leaving only the foot connected with the lion couchant, against which the figure rests.

This Engraving will be received by the attentive inquirer, as an interesting specimen of the sepulchral architecture of olden times; and, judging from the mutilated remains, its original beauty would have reminded us of the remark of an antiquarian writer,—that he never saw a fine monument out of England.

THE PUBLIC JOURNALS

CHOICE APHORISMS

(From 144, in Fraser's Magazine.)

It is perfectly possible to make champagne from gooseberries, equal to that yielded by the grape. Exampli gratiâ: Lord Haddington, who is a first-rate judge of wines, had a bottle of mock and one of real champagne set before him, and was requested to say which was which. He mistook the product of the gooseberry for the genuine article; and many persons, reputed good judges, have done the same thing.

By putting a piece of lump-sugar, the size of a walnut, into the tea-pot, you will make the tea infuse in one-half the time. This fact is well known to bag-men and stage-coach travellers.

Members of dilletanti societies are generally especial asses: their eternal talk about the fine arts, drawing, colouring, harmony, composition, chiaro-scuro, fore-shortening, design, and so forth, is enough to turn the stomach of a horse. The thing is the more insufferable, because they absolutely know nothing of the subject, and have about as much real appreciation of works of genius as a pig possesses for the inventions of Watt or Daedalus.

While prigs of the above description are eternally chattering about such topics, men who are really eminent in the fine arts never say a word on the subject. Goldsmith describes this matter well in his account of Sir Joshua Reynolds:—

 
To coxcombs averse, yet most civilly steering,
When they judged without skill he was still hard of hearing;
When they talk'd of their Raphaels, Correggios, and stuff,
He shifted his trumpet, and only took snuff."
 

When I see a man who affects to doubt everything he hears, I never hesitate about writing him down an ass. A great doubter is a solemn and self-conceited prig. How amusing is it to see the blockhead shake his empty pate, compress his lips into a sneer, and turn up his absurd unmeaning eyes in dubious disbelief, when he hears aught which he thinks it would imply sagacity to discredit! Such persons imagine, that to be a great doubter implies wisdom; whereas, in their case, it has its origin in constitutional phlegm and stupidity.

Arguers and spouters are invariably asses.

If you wish to make yourself agreeable to any one, talk as much as you please about his or her affairs, and as little as possible about your own. People are such downright egotists themselves, that they cannot tolerate egotism in others.

A person who cannot relish absurdity and wit, and must, moreover, have a satisfactory reason for whatever is said or done, is a philosophical blockhead.

The best tooth-powder in the world is Armenian hole, a pennyworth of which will serve a man for six months.

If a man pronounces you a liar, it is very absurd to call him out for the same. This ceremony does not prove that you are not a liar; it only shows, that you possess sufficient courage to stand at the distance of twelve paces, while a pistol—probably a leadless one—is fired at you.

Snuff-taking in a woman is abominable, unless she be very aged—say eighty, or upwards—when it is rather becoming than otherwise.

Young girls, of from fourteen to seventeen, are fond of aping the woman in their dress, and are partial to long shawls, which give the young things a matronly appearance. When they become women in reality, they are rather too apt to go upon the opposite tack, and to assume the dress and airs of the girl.

A well-made man always looks shorter than he is; ditto a well-made woman.

A story-teller, or dealer in anecdote, is an abomination that ought to be expelled from all well-regulated societies. A man of an original and truly powerful mind never deals in anecdotes, unless it be for the purpose of illustrating some general principle. Women and weak men are all addicted to the vice. If a person of this description begins to annoy a company with his or her twaddle, the only cure for it is to affect deafness—a very convenient infirmity at times.

A hint to Cooks.—Roasted chestnuts, grated or sliced, make an excellent addition to the stuffing for turkeys or geese.

Another hint.—In boiling salmon, split the fish from head to tail; if you do not do this, but boil it entire, or cut horizontally through the middle, it is impossible to cook it thoroughly, the thickness of the back and shoulders being such, that, if the outside be properly done, the inside must needs be little better than parboiled. On the Tweed, and other salmon districts, the latter system is held in abomination.

A clever servant is almost invariably quick tempered. The reason is obvious: superior talent is always accompanied by pride, which must meet with many petty annoyances in the menial state.

Never praise or talk of your children to other people; for, depend upon it, no person except yourself cares a single farthing about them.

Sea-gull eggs, when boiled hard and eaten cold, with pepper, salt, vinegar, and mustard, make a delightful breakfast dish. Many persons have an antipathy to such eggs; but it is from eating them in the soft state, when they have always a fishy taste. Try them as above, and they will change their opinions upon the subject.

If a person has a great knack at finding out feats of legerdemain, you may pronounce him a blockhead. I never knew a clever man who was worth a farthing at detecting such tricks.

I have a profound veneration for great liars of a certain class. On this account Baron Munchausen, Major Longbow, and Ferdinand Mendez Pinto, are my especial favourites. Men of this description are invariably good-tempered, benevolent, and generous; and will, any day, treat you to a bottle of wine, provided you do them the favour of listening to their adventures.

Important to Drunkards.—If, an hour before sitting down to drink, you take a grain or two of opium, you will be able to withstand a much greater quantity than otherwise of liquor. This fact has escaped the observation of Macnish.

Some stupid people suppose that imagination and philosophy are incompatible. Blockheads! Was not Bacon, the greatest of philosophers, one of the most imaginative of men? There is more true philosophy in the writings of Shakespeare, Milton, and Scott, than in those of all the metaphysicians that ever existed.

An accomplished woman, in common parlance, means one who sings and dances well, knows a little French, a little Italian, a little drawing, a little embroidery, and not much of any thing, excepting fashionable novels; in which she is a great adept.

A lady's album is generally worth looking at, as a psychological curiosity, indicative, to a considerable extent, of the taste and feelings of its owner.

If a man borrows a shilling from you, and on being dunned pretends to have forgotten it, you may with considerable safety set him down for a liar.

When a man finds it convenient to tell a lie, he should sport a good thumping one when he is about it. If a great lie serves his purpose better than a little one, why hesitate between the two, when the sin is equally great in both cases? The former has this advantage, that, when detected, its enormity may be so great as to enable the person to pass it off as a piece of quizzery, which can never be done with the latter.

Heroic liars, such as the Baron or Major, are a godly race; but those who practise the sin in a small way, and keep fibbing about trifles are a despicable crew, and should be held by the heels, and soused head down-most in a firkin of small beer.

Men who are, or who fancy themselves to be good singers, are great bores. The airs which they assume in company are most insufferable. If asked for a song, they affect, with an aspect of the most hypocritical humility, that really they cannot sing—that their voice is out of order—that they are hoarse, and so forth; the fellows all the while being most anxious to show forth, only wanting to be pressed, in order to enhance their own importance, and stimulate the curiosity of the company. Nor is this the worst of the case; for no sooner do they perpetrate one song, than they volunteer a dozen, interlarding the intervals between their performances with pedantic disquisitions on music, and flooring every man who ventures to hazard an opinion on the subject. These people, whether amateur or professional, must be extinguished; and the best way to accomplish their overthrow, and reduce them to their native insignificance, is, in the first instance, to take them at their word, and not urge them to sing. By so doing, they immediately take the pet, and sport mum for the rest of the evening. The same remarks apply to musical people in general, whether in the shape of fiddlers, fluters, horn blowers, thumpers on the pianoforte, &c. These individuals can think of nothing else but their favourite pursuit, and imagine all the world to be equally interested in it. Take a musician off music, and he is the most ignorant of animals. A good story in illustration of this is told about Madame Catalani. Being at a large party in Vienna, where Goethe was present, she was much surprised at the great respect with which that illustrious man was treated. On inquiring his name, she was informed it was the celebrated Goethe. "Celebrated!" said the siren; "what music did he ever compose? Why, I never heard of him!"