ELIZA COOK'S JOURNAL. end with weeds and fallen leaves, and branches broken by the wind, it spread into a marsh, tenanted alike by the slow, creeping, blind worm, and waternewt, the black slug, and frogs of portentous size. The soil was rich, and would have yielded abundantly; the timber, too, was valuable, for some of the finest oaks, perhaps, in the kingdom grew upon the farm; but the cultivation of the one, and the culling of the other, was attended with expense, and both were consequently left uncared for. In the centre of this lone and wretched spot dwelt the miserable Dancer and his sister, alike in The sister never their habits and penuriousness. went from home; the brother rarely, except to sell his hay. He had some acres of fine meadow-land, upon which the brambles had not trenched, and his attention was exclusively devoted to keeping them clear of weeds. Having no other occupation, the time of hay-harvest seems to have been the only period at which his mind was engrossed with business, and this too was rendered remarkable by the miser's laying aside his habits of penuriousnessscarcely any gentleman in the neighbourhood gave his mowers better beer, or in greater quantity; but at no other time was the beverage of our Saxon ancestors found within his walls. Some people thought that the old man was crazed; but those who knew him spoke well of his intelligence. As his father had been before him, so was he; his mantle had descended in darkness and in fulness on all who bore his name, and while that of Daniel Dancer was perhaps the most familiar, his three brothers were equally penurious. One sordid passion absorbed their every faculty; they loved money solely and exclusively for its own sake, not for the pleasures it could procure, nor yet because of the power it bestowed, but for the love of hoarding. When the father of Daniel Dancer breathed his last, there was reason to believe that a large sum, amounting to some thousands, was concealed on the premises. This conjecture occasioned his son no small uneasiness, not so much from the fear of loss, as from the apprehension lest his brothers should find the treasure and divide it among themselves. Dancer, therefore, kept the matter as much as possible to himself. He warily and secretly sought out every hole and corner, thrusting his skinny hand into many a deserted mouse-hole, and examining every part of the chimney. Vain were all his efforts, till at length, on removing an old grate, he discovered about two hundred pounds, in gold and bank notes, between two pewter dishes. Much more undoubtedly there was, but the rest remained concealed. Strange beings were Dancer and his sister to look upon. The person of the old man was generally girt with a hay-band, in order to keep together his tattered garments; his stockings were so darned and patched that nothing of the original texture remained; they were girt about in cold and wet weather with strong bands of hay, which served in. stead of boots, and his hat having been worn for at least thirteen years, scarcely retained a vestige of its former shape. Perhaps the most wretched vagabond and mendicant that ever crossed Harrow Weal Common was more decently attired than this miserable representative of an ancient and honourable house. The sister possessed an excellent wardrobe, consisting not only of wearing apparel, but table-linen, and twenty-four pair of good sheets; she had also clothes of various kinds, and abundance of plate belonged to the family, but everything was stowed away in chests. Neither the brother nor the sister had the disposition or the heart to enjoy the blessings that were liberally given them; and hence it happened that Dancer was rarely seen, and that his sister The interior of the dwelling well befitted its occu- Thus they lived, isolated from mankind, while around them the desolation of their paternal acres, and the rank luxuriance of weeds and brambles, presented a mournful emblem of their condition. Talents, undoubtedly they had; kindly tempers in early life, which might have conduced to the well-being of society. Daniel especially possessed many admirable qualities, with good sense and native integrity; his manners, too, though unpolished by intercourse with the world, were at one time both frank and courteous, but all and each were absorbed by one master passion - sordid avarice took possession of his soul, and rendered him the most despicable of men. At length Dancer's sister died. They had lived together for many years, similar in their penuriousness, though little, perhaps, of natural affection subsisted between them. The sister was possessed of considerable wealth, which she left to her brother. The old man greatly rejoiced at its acquisition; he resolved, in consequence, that her funeral should not disgrace the family, and accordingly contracted with an undertaker to receive timber in exchange for a coffin, rather than to part with gold. Lady Tempest, who resided in the neighbourhood, compassionating the wretched condition of an aged woman, sick, and destitute of even pauper comforts, had the poor creature conveyed to her house. Every possible alleviation was afforded, and medical assistance immediately obtained; but they came too late. The disease, which proceeded originally from want, proved mortal, and the victim of sordid avarice was borne unlamented to her grave. There was crowding on the funeral day beside the People came road that led to Lady Tempest's. trooping from far and near, with a company of boys belonging to Harrow School, thoughtless, and amused with the strangeness of a spectacle which might rather have excited feelings of sorrow and commiseration. First came a coffin of the humblest kind containing the emaciated corpse of one who had possessed ample wealth, -a woman to whom had been committed the magnificent gift of life, fair talents and health, with faculties for appropriating each to the glory of Him who gave them, but who, on dying, had no soothing retrospect of life, no thankfulness for having been the instrument of good to others, no hope beyond the grave. Behind that coffin, as chief mourner, followed the brother, unbeloved, and heedless of all duties either to God or man--a miserable being; the possessor of many thousands, yet too sordid to purchase even decent mourning. It was only by the importunate entreaties of his relatives that he consented to unbind the hay-bands with which his legs were covered, and to put on a second-hand pair of black worsted stockings. His coat was of a whitish brown colour, his waistcoat had been black about the middle of the last century, and the covering of his head was a nondescript kind of wig, which had descended to him as an heirloom. Thus attired, and followed and attended by a crowd whom curiosity had drawn together, went on old Daniel and the coffin of his sister towards the place of its sojourn. When there, the horse's girth gave way, for they were past all service, and the brother was suddenly precipitated into his sister's grave; but the old man escaped unhurt. The service proceeded; and slowly into darkness and forgetfulness went down the remains of his miserable counterpart. One friend, however, remained to the miser,-and this was Lady Tempest. That noble-minded woman had given a home to the sister, and sought by every possible means to alleviate her sufferings; now also, when the object of her solicitude was gone, she endeavoured to inspire the brother with better feelings, and to ameliorate his miserable condition. This kindly notice by Lady Tempest, while it soothed his pride, served also to lessen the sufferings and sorrows of his declining age; and so far did her representations prevail, that, having given him a comfortable bed, she actually induced him to throw away the sack on which he slept for years. Nay, more, he took into his service a man of the name of Griffith, and allowed him an ample supply of food, but neither cat nor dog purred or watched beneath his roof; he had no kindliness of heart to bestow upon them, nor occasion for their services, for he still continued to live on crusts and fragments; even when Lady Tempest sent him better fare, he could hardly be prevailed to partake of it. In his boyish days, he possessed, it might be, some natural feelings of affection towards his kind; but as years passed on, and his sordid avarice increased, he manifested the utmost aversion for his brother, who rivalled himself in penury and wealth, and still continued to pasture sheep on the same common. To his niece, however, he once presented a guinea, on the birth of a daughter, but this he made conditional, she was either to name the child Nancy, after his mother, or forfeit the whole sum. Still, with that strange contrariety which even the most penurious occasionally present, gleams of kindliness broke forth at intervals, as sunbeams on a stony waste. He was known secretly to have assisted persons whose modes of life and appearance were infinitely superior to his own; and though parsimonious in the extreme, he was never guilty of injustice, or accused of attempting to overreach his neighbours. He was also a second Hampden in defending the rights and privileges of those who were connected with his locality. While old Daniel lived, no infringements were permitted on Harrow Weal Common; he heeded neither the rank nor wealth of those who attempted to act unjustly, but, putting himself at the head of the villagers, he resisted such aggressions with uniform success. On one occasion, also, having been reluctantly obliged to prosecute a horse-stealer at Aylesbury, he set forth with one of his neighbours on an unshod steed, with a mane and tail of no ordinary growth, a halter for a bridle, a sack instead of a saddle. Thus equipped, he went on, till, having reached the principal inn at Aylesbury, the miser addressed his companion, saying, "Pray, sir, go into the house and order what you please, and live like a gentleman, I will settle for it readily; but as regards myself, I must go on in my old way." His friend entreated him to take a comfortable repast, but this he steadily refused. A pennyworth of bread sufficed for his meal, and at night he slept under his horse's manger; but when the business that brought him to Aylesbury was ended, he paid fifteen shillings, the amount of his companion's bill, with the utmost cheerfulness. Grateful, too, he was, as years went on, to Lady Tempest for her unwearied kindness, and he resolved to leave her the wealth which he had accumulated. His sister, too, expressed the same wish; and when, after six months of continued attention from that lady, Miss Dancer found her end approach, she instructed her brother to give their benefactress an acknowledgment from the one thousand six hundred pounds which she had concealed in an old tattered petticoat. "Not a penny of that money," said old Dancer, unceremoniously to his sister. "Not a penny as yet. The good lady shall have the whole when I am gone.” At length the time came when the old man must be gone; when his desolate abode and neglected fields should bear witness no longer against him. Few particulars are known concerning his death. The fact alone is certain, that the evening before his departure, he despatched a messenger to Lady Tempest requesting to see her ladyship, and that, being gratified by her arrival, he expressed great satisfaction. Finding himself somewhat better, his attachment to the hoarded pelf, which he valued even more than the only friend he had on earth, overcame the resolution he had formed of giving her his will; and though his hand was scarcely able to perform its functions, he took hold of the precious document and replaced it in his bosom. The next morning he became worse, and again did the same kind lady attend the old man's summons; when, having confided to her keeping the title-deeds of wealth which he valued more than life, his hand suddenly became convulsed, his head sunk upon the pillow, and the miser breathed his last. The house in which he died, and where he first drew breath, exhibited a picture of utter desolation. Those who crossed the threshold stood silent, as if awe-struck, Yet that miserable haunt contained the hoarded wealth of years. Gold and silver coins were dug up on the ground-floor; plate and table-linen, with clothes of every description, were found locked up in chests; large bowls, filled with guineas and half-guineas came to light, with parcels of bank notes stuffed under the covers of old chairs. Some hundred weights of waste-paper, the accumulation of half-acentury, were also discovered; and two or three tons of old iron, consisting of nails and horse-shoes, which the miser had picked up. Strange communings had passed within the wallssordid, yet bitter thoughts, the crushing of all kindly yearnings towards a better state of mind. The outer conduct of the man was known, but the internal conflict between good and evil remains untold. Nearly sixty-four years have elapsed since the miser and his sister passed from among the living. Perchance some lichen dotted stone, if carefully sought for and narrowly examined, may give the exact period of their death, but, as yet, no record of the kind has been discovered. Collateral testimonies, however, go far to prove that the death of the miser took place about the year 1775, and that his sister died a few months previous. deep pine-forests, is to a staid elderly gentleman brought up amid the quiet beauties of English park scenery. He treats us to a full-length picture of life among the loggers, and a bold, rough, hard-working, venturous set of men they are. He describes how they "hunt" pines,-that is, track them out in the forest,-how they fell and roll them,-and what kind of adventures the loggers meet with in their sojourn among the woods. The following is a specimen of the adventures related in Mr. Springer's capital book; and it is as exciting a specimen of a Wolf Chase as any we have ever met with. The subject of the story is a neighbour of Springer's, -a man, whose log-house stood on the banks of the river Kennebeck, which flowed past the door. He was very fond of skating, and one winter's night, he left his house to skate for a short distance up the frozen river. It was a bright, still evening; the new moon silvered the frosty pines. After gliding a couple of miles up the river, the skater turned off into a little tributary stream, over which fir and hemlock twined their evergreen branches. The archway beneath was dark, but he fearlessly entered it, unsuspicious of peril, with a joyous laugh and hurra,-an involuntary expression of exhilaration, elicited by the bracing crispness of the atmosphere, and glow of pleasant exercise. What followed is very exciting : "All of a sudden, a sound arose; it seemed from the very ice beneath my feet. It was loud and tremendous at first, until it ended in one long yell. I was appalled. Never before had such a noise met my ears. I thought it more than mortal,—so fierce, and amid such an unbroken solitude, that it seemed a fiend from hell had blown a blast from an infernal trumpet. Presently I heard the twigs on the shore snap as if from the tread of some animal, and the blood rushed back to my forehead with a bound that made my skin burn. My energies returned, and I looked around me for some means of defence. The moon shone through the opening by which I had entered the forest, and, considering this the best means of escape, I darted towards it like an arrow. It was hardly a hundred yards distant, and the swallow could scarcely outstrip my desperate flight; yet, as I turned my eyes to the shore, I could see two dark objects dashing through the underbrush at a pace nearly double mine. By their great speed, and the short yells which they occasionally gave, I knew at once that they were the much-dreaded grey wolf. The bushes that skirted the shore," continues the hunted of wolves, "flew past with the velocity of light, as I dashed on in my flight. The outlet was nearly gained; one second more, and I should be comparatively safe,-when my pursuers appeared on the bank directly above me, which rose to the height of some ten feet. There was no time for thought; I bent my head, and dashed wildly forward. The wolves sprang; but, miscalculating my speed, sprang behind, whilst their intended prey glided out into the river. Nature turned me towards home. The light flakes of snow spun from the iron of my skates, and I was now some distance from my pursuers, when their fierce howl told me that I was again the fugitive. I did not look back; I did not feel sorry or glad; one thought of home, of the bright faces awaiting my return, of their tears if they should never see me again, and then my energy of body and mind was exerted for my escape. I was perfectly at home on the ice. Many were the days I spent on the skates, never thinking that at one time they would be my only means of safety. Every half-minute an alternate yelp from my pursuers made me but too certain they were close at my heels. Nearer and nearer they came; I heard their feet pattering on the ice nearer still, until I fancied I could hear their deep breathing. Every nerve and muscle in my frame was stretched to the utmost tension. The trees along the shore seemed to dance in the uncertain light; and my brain turned with my own breathless speed, when an involuntary motion turned me out of my course. The wolves close behind, unable to stop, and as unable to turn, slipped, fell,-still going on far ahead, their tongues lolling out, their white tusks gleaming from their bloody mouths, their dark shaggy breasts freckled with foam; and, as they passed me, their eyes glared, and they howled with rage and fury. The thought flashed on my mind that by this means I could avoid them,-viz., by turning aside whenever they came too near; for they, by the formation of their feet, are unable to run on ice except in a right line. I immediately acted on this plan. The wolves, having regained their feet, sprang directly towards me. The race was renewed for twenty yards up the stream; they were already close on my back, when I glided round, and dashed past them. A fierce howl greeted my evolution, and the wolves slipped upon their haunches, and sailed onward, presenting a perfect picture of helplessness and baffled rage. Thus I gained nearly a hundred yards each turning. This was repeated two or three times, every moment the wolves getting more excited and baffled, until, coming opposite the house, a couple of stag-hounds, aroused by the noise, bayed furiously from their kennels. The wolves, taking the hint, stopped in their mad career; and, after a moment's consideration, turned and fled. I watched them till their dusky forms disappeared over a neighbouring hill; then, taking off my skates, I wended my way to the house." THE TWO GARDENS OF LIFE. The daily practical and the meditative are as two gardens; both are beautiful, but one is magical. In the first are common plants, which we most diligently tend and cultivate; in the second, among flowers also for cultivation, flowers of new and most changeful beauty are ever rising spontaneously. In this second garden may we walk, having duly cared for the first. It is a garden of surprise and delight, for we have but to think of some common flower when straightway it arises before us, as transfigured, in exquisite beauty; and all around it, as a centre, new vegetative forms spring up, different but analagous. These two gardens have to each other curious and important relations; the perfection of either can alone be secured by a due regard to both. If we regard only the magical one, the magic becomes less wonderful, and will soon cease to surprise and delight us; and if we regard exclusively the common one, it becomes alarmingly magical, familiar plants assume a noisome aspect, and around them rise others uncouth and terrifying. Our care must be for our common ground, that its productions be abundant and healthy; for our magical one, that its growths be numerous and beautiful. This is best secured by periods of toil in the first alternating with shorter periods of recreation and delight in the second. Accurate thought on definite subjects can alone give freedom and variety to general meditations; conscientious practicalness alone insure us best visions and revelations.Theophilus Trinal. PAUSE! There come at times in our life deep, still pauses, when we rest upon our full content as a child lies down on the grass of a meadow, fearing nothing, desiring nothing, ceasing almost to think, and satisfied only to feel.-The Head of the Family. THE God of the Earth! what cries From ship-deck and from sea. The last dull plunge was heard,The last wave caught its stain,And the unsated shark looked up For human hearts in vain. SLAVE SHIP. BY J. G. WHITTIER. "That fatal, that perfidious bark, Built i' the eclipse, and rigged with curses dark." THE French ship Le Rodeur, with a crew of twenty-two men, and with one hundred and sixty negro slaves, sailed from Bonny, in Africa, April, 1819. On approaching the line, a terrible malady broke out,-an obstinate disease of the eyes,contagious, and altogether beyond the resources of medicine. It was aggravated by the scarcity of water among the slaves (only half a wineglass per day being allowed to an individual), and by the extreme impurity of the air in which they breathed. By the advice of the physician they were brought upon deck occasionally; but some of the poor wretches, locking themselves in each other's arms, leaped overboard, in the hope, which so universally prevails among them, of being swiftly transported to their own homes in Africa. To check this, the captain ordered several, who were stopped in the attempt, to be shot, or hanged, before their companions. The disease extended to the crew, and one after another were smitten with it, until only one remained unaffected. Yet even this dreadful condition did not preclude calculation; to save the expense of supporting slaves rendered unsaleable, and to obtain grounds for a claim against the underwriters, thirty-six of the negroes, having become blind, were thrown into the sea and drowned! In the midst of their dreadful fears, lest the solitary individual whose sight remained unaffected should also be seized with the malady, a sail was discovered,—it was the Spanish slaver Leon; the same disease had been there, and, horrible to tell, all the crew had become blind! Unable to assist each other, the vessels parted. The Spanish ship has never since been heard of; the Rodeur reached Guadaloupe on the 21st of June; the only man who had escaped the disease, and had thus been enabled to steer the slaver into port, caught it three days after its arrival.-Speech of M. Benjamin Constant in the French Chamber of Deputies, June 17, 1820. "ALL ready?" cried the captain; "Ay, ay!" the seamen said; "Heave up the worthless lubbers,The dying and the dead." Up from the slave-ship's prison Fierce, bearded heads were thrust; Why should the Spoiler spare? Gloomily stood the captain With his arms upon his breast,— With his cold brow sternly knotted, And his iron lip compressed; "Are all the dead dogs over? Growled through that matted lip ;"The blind ones are no better, Let's lighten the good ship." Hark! from the ship's dark bosom, The ringing clank of iron, The maniac's short, sharp yell! Up from that loathsome prison "Overboard with them, shipmates!" Cutlass and dirk were plied; Fettered and blind, one after one, Plunged down the vessel's side. The sabre smote above, Beneath, the lean shark lay, Waiting, with wide and bloody jaw, Red glowed the Western waters; The setting sun was there, Scattering alike on wave and cloud His fiery mesh of hair: Amidst a group in blindness, A solitary eye Gazed from the burdened slaver's deck "A storm," spoke out the gazer, His echoed laugh replied,- Night settled on the waters, And, as the helmsman spoke, So near, that on the slaver's deck Came back upon the wind. "Help us! for we are stricken In the sunny Guadaloupe And the sky was bright as ever, Printed by Cox (Brothers) & WYMAN, 74-75, Great Queen Street, London; and published by CHARLES Coox, at the Office of the Journal, 3, Raquet Court, Fleet Street. OLD ENGLISH COUNTY PROVERBS. OLD proverbs are the concentrated essence of popular wisdom. They have been struck out by theoretic knowledge, and confirmed by practical experience. The people who lived long ago, in times when printed books did not exist, embodied their views of life in proverbs, which were handed down from father to son, through many generations. They live among us still. To this day, proverbs constitute the literature of the unlearned. And even the most learned of men may often gather wisdom from these old saws of our forefathers. How much practical knowledge, for instance, is to be found in the Proverbs of Solomon ; -what clear insight into life! what golden maxims for the up-bringing of youth! what noble thoughts for self culture and home happiness! George Dawson, in his clever lecture on Popular Proverbs, has said of them, that they are usually the witty utterances, by wise men, of the wisdom of the many. They became current because they ably, briefly, quaintly, or energetically expressed what men had long thought. The best of them are short; and they are short because they felt themselves to be true, because many of them are, as Emerson has pointed out, utterances of those underlying laws of life around which, as around a magnetic pole, our actions group themselves. They are the great spiritual utterances of mankind, and may be regarded as a kind of gauge to the thinker, to show how far spiritualism has been successful in getting into life. They are the answer of the streets to the pulpit. They have become a current method of teaching great truths. Thus Franklin, in his Poor Richard, drew forth a whole budget of them, in enforcing the duty of providence. They were all ready-made to his hand. [PRICE 1d. hundred years old, entitled "Anglorum Speculum, or the Worthies of England in Church and State." The proverbs, or sayings, therefore, which we are about to cite, were in use centuries ago; and most of them are current in the several counties of England to this day. Thus, Buckinghamshire "Bread and Beef, the one fine, the other fat," is still proverbial. So are "Essex calves," " Suffolk milk," and "Leamster bread and Weobly ale" (Hereford). "Bean-belly Leicestershire" was once a proverb, and may be so still; "Shake a Leicestershire yeoman by the collar, and you shall hear the beans rattle in his belly." "Yarmouth capon (or red herring), "Norfolk dumplings," "Banbury veal" (cheese and cakes), and "Grantham gruel, nine grits and a gallon of water" (applied to those who multiply what is superfluous, and omit what is necessary in their discourse), are phrases still in current use. proverbial" Weavers beef of Colchester," meaning thereby sprats, show that the operatives of that town, then a manufacturing place, were much more poorly off than they are now. You find the best of proverbs common to nearly all countries. Proverbs have their equivalents in all languages. The English, Scotch, Dutch, Germans, and Spanish, are especially rich in proverbs; and, at some future opportunity, we may draw from their ample budgets. At present our task is of a humbler kind; namely, to draw forth a few of the old county proverbs and current sayings of England, which are, in many respects, curiously illustrative of the old life, habits, and customs of the country. We may mention that we take them from a book about two The "He "A Jack of Dover," was the phrase applied to food that had been cooked over and over again, and also to repetitions of useless phraseology in speech. that would eat a buttered fagot, let him go to Northampton," that town being (before the advent of railways) the dearest town in England for fuel. The same town being far from the sea, oysters must have grown stale before they reached there in the old times, so it was also said, "The Mayor of Northampton opens oysters with his dagger." |