46 un I discovered myself, by some 66 1 The next morning, seeing that I was recovered, he urgently pressed me, before I left the town, to call on him; and whether it was that I felt some little compunctions of gratitude, or that my disposition is naturally somewhat complying, I could not for the moment summon resolution enough to decline. As my visit was a very remarkable one, I shall give it at some length. Upon entering the room, I found the old Doctor sitting by himself at his dinner-table over the bones of a chicken. He received me with a homely cordiality; and pointing his hand to his repast, asked me if I would join him. I excused myself, by saying that I had dined; but I could nevertheless but admire the old man's generosity, for I observed that his bones were nearly dry, and my worthy friend's appetite yet remarkably keen. It was a long time before he appeared satisfied that his bones had yielded all their nutrition :-he put on his spectacles, turned them over and over, and examined them on every side. No little hungry cur, methought, would have taken half the trouble with them. At length, however, he ordered his dinner-table to be removed-A cracked tumbler-a plate chipped and black with age-a battered table-spoon-a knife and fork that seemed to say they were his grandfather's-formed his table service. He strictly enjoined his servant-girl to be careful in discharging her duty; "for our servants, Sir," said the old Doctor, turning to me, "often break the most We arrived about evening at Postead.* valuable articles you put into their There was nothing in the place particu- hands, through downright carelessness : Jarly remarkable; but from this sen- they do, Sir, indeed," repeated he, aptence I must except the eccentric cha-parently irritated at the very thought. racter of my friend Doctor Protractus, who was, I think, of all the oddities I ever met with, infinitely the most odd. Upon my arrival here, I thought I felt symptoms of an old complaint which I have been much troubled with; and having accordingly enquired for an apothecary, was recommended to this singular character. The Doctor, how ever, was certainly of essential service to me in his profession. I have taken the liberty, in transcribing this piece for the press, to erase the original names both of the place and the Doctor, and have substituted in their stead names entirely fictitious: it would be cruel to raise a laugh at the expense of private reputation, The English Butler has said of his hero Hudibras, that "with frequent hem and cough, Prolongers of enlighten'd stuff, He could deep mysteries unriddle, As easily as thread a needle." And nothing could be more true of Doctor Protractus: almost every word he uttered was followed by several most knowing and significant hems; or if a cluster of three or four words came out without interruption, it was quite a mirabile dictu.-But to proceed with my narrative. As soon as the old feilow saw his articles safely removed, he took his stand directly opposite to me, stretched out his legs with all imaginable pompousness, and crowded both his hands with the greatest formality : into the pockets of his waistcoat. Having deliberately fixed himself in this attitude, he gave two or three of his self-complaisant hems, and began his discourse in the following manner. "Well, Sir," said he, and pray what think you of England!"-"Oh! I have spent so much of my time, Sir, in this country," I said, that I begin to think myself almost an Englishman." "Ah! England," resumed the Doctor, "is to be sure, in many respects, a very fine country; but the great fault of it, Sir, is, that we have among us no rewards- no encouragements for merit would you believe me now, that a professional man, though he be eminent, and in the highest degree successful, and that even for a number of years, that he has here no honorary distinctions, nor any thing, besides the dignity of his profession, to distinguish him from the mere common rabble ?”—“ Why I never heard," said 1, "the complaint alleged before; nor, to say the worst, do I think it a fault peculiar to England."—“ Sir, in whatever country,' auswered my old friend, hastily, such total disregard of true merit may exist, I have no hesitation in saying it is a great disgrace to it."-But what distinction," I resumed," could be made that". "What distinction!" interrupted the Doctor- why, what I would propose is, that every medical gentleman who labours with success, who is eminent for skill and knowledge, and who keeps up for many years, as I have done, the dignity of his profession, should receive the title of-of Chevalier; or some such honorary distinction. Che valier Protractus! there, what think you of that, love (as he turned to his wife)-your ladyship Mrs. Protractus (making a polite bow to her) -wife, aye, and good wife too, to his honour Chevalier Protractus. It is justice, Sir, it is justice!" vociferated the Doctor, as he stamped the floor with his foot-" But there is so much envy and prejudice," continued he, through the whole community, that instead of one's becoming (as he ought to be) honourably rewarded for any valuable discovery or suggestion, he is slighted and unnoticed. I will give you an instance of the truth of what I advance. You know, I dare say, the immense aggregate of our national debt."-" I do," I replied: "and it will probably be a long time before you will see it discharged."-" It need not be so," answered the old fellow, with a consequential nod of the head "it need not, I assure you. I have a plan, formed by myselfformed by myself alone, Sir-which should quickly pay off the whole debt, and yet be no injury to a single individual if he acceded to it; on the contrary, it would be an injury, Sir, for a man to withhold compliance.But I have done my duty, Sir-I have done my duty-I have indeed. I have communicated it to the Chancellor of our Exchequer, and to several other of our great men; but either through envy, or an incapacity of judging of its merits, they never took the notice of it that it deserved. I will communicate it to you, Sir; but in justice to myself, I must urge your secrecy; for though it hitherto has been neglected, true merit, Sir, true and great merit, will never be long without meeting a proper reward.-My plan, or system, Sir, is this.-Let there be fixed up in every city, borough, town, and 'village, of the united kingdoms of Great Britain and Ireland, a box; or, if the place be large, two, three, or even more boxes, according, you know, to the size of the place. I would have them made perfectly strong and secure; - of oak, perhaps, with iron bands, or something of that sort. But we will leave this point, for I do not feel myself quite determined upon it. In the sides of each of these boxes, now, I would have made-an incision-(to use a professional word, and indeed professional words often come in very much to the purpose)-I say, I would have an incision made, of proper and suitable dimensions. These boxes, now, should be placed up in the most frequented-in the most public and conspicuous part or parts of every city, borough, town, and village of the united kingdoms of Great Britain and Ireland. Now you know, Sir, it often happens-(and indeed i may say it commonly happens) that one has an odd sixpence or shilling, or, if not that, odd half-pence in one's pocket, which he might easily spare, without any particular loss or inconvenience. I would have, therefore, a proclamation, Sir, issued from our great men and rulers, stating that it would be expected of every loyal and good subject, upon his passing any of these boxes, to put his hand into his pocket thus-and if he have an odd six TH At pence, or shilling, which, as I before observed, he would frequently have, ha; that he would drop it into the box, through the incision which I should -direct to be made in its side. Now has only let us reckon a little. We will say, for instance, I drop a sixpence yin to-day-very well-then, perhaps, a sixpence to-morrow-and so on. the end of the year, then, going on in the same ratio or proportion, I should have contributed, you know, five or six pounds, and perhaps more: and this sum no one could feel, if given conformably to my system. Now supposing the whole population of these realms, governed by King George the Third, to be in all fourteen millions —very well ;—then multiplying six pounds by fourteen millions of persons, who would in this case, you know, contribute, we should realize the prodigious sum of eighty-four millions an“ I nually."-" But," interrupted I, fear many people, if there were compulsion, would "—" If you will be kind enough to hear me out," said the old man, evidently irritated by my rudeness, you would then see the entire propriety of my system. I should have told you as I went along, that by the side of every box throughout the united kingdoms of Great Britain and Ireland-governed, as I before observed, by his Majesty King George the Third -I would place a kind of censor (and we could easily shelter him, you know, from all rain, and snow, and so on, by making over his head a cupola, or sumething of that sort)-well, Sir, this censor, being regularly appointed to the office, should be provided with a stick—thus—(and he instantly rushed across the room, and snatched up an old walking-stick)—he should stand thus," repeated he;" and, when any person passed that did not contribute, he should cry out,' FEEL,' ve ei he be at 66 DO DRAW,' or something of that sort, to him; and if he either refused to feel, or refused to give, when our officer could all the while hear the money jinghing in his pocket, ou my word, Sir, he should give him a great knock on the head-thus-(and he dashed down his staff with great vehemence on the seat of a chair)-so that, by this means, Sir," continued he, "what I told you at first would be plainly effected; that the evil would be to the man who withheld his proper contributions." The old gentleman had gone on in this way, to a great length, expatiating over the prodigious advantages of his system, when we were suddenly attracted to the window to see one of the English bishops, who was passing in his carriage. When he had gone by, the old Doctor having again resumed his former station;-"Were 1 a bishop," said he, (looking me in the face, and giving his head a consequential nod,) I should certainly, Sir, not have my carriage lined within with crimson" (which happened to be the colour of the bishop's)-" "it is a most improper colour," continued he, "for any high ecclesiastical man. It surely must have a tendency to remind one of blood-of wars-and the desolations occasioned by force of arms — and Christ, you know, Sir, has entirely disclaimed every thing of the sort My kingdom,' he hath said, is not of this world-and it is therefore, Sir, a mystery to me, how men, who from their hearts set their seals, as it were, to his precepts ;-it is a mystery, I say, how such men can endure, as they willingly do, to be thus reminded of what their great Master has forbidden. They stand high in the church, and thus ought, Sir, to be examples of greater religion and purity."-" I hardly comprehend the justness of your induction," I said; "but if "Induction !" inter rupted the Doctor:-"Oh, I have long ago, Sir, abjured-from principle I have entirely abjured and discarded all those fantasies-those little insignificant gropings of what the world calls reason. Faith, Sir, faith! - that is sufficientamply and fully sufficient for the regenerate. We, for our parts, want nothing else to direct us-to the eye of faith all is perfectly evident and clear, We laugh, Sir-we look down with the greatest contempt on that little infant in swaddling clothes, called reasonwe are full grown men, Sir-attained unto the fullness of stature in all things But it is appertaining to godliness. very few, Sir, I must say," continues he," that are possessed of true and genuine faith-and fewer still, of that faith which can remove mountains. For my own part, my faith I feel to be both clear, strong, and efficaciousgreatly superior to all reason- and even to compare it with reason-on my word, Sir, it is an abomination!—it is like -at least as to its great power and efficacy-it is like, Sir, comparing calo mel to common English rhubarb. But eried I, looking at my watch, "it is SIR, R. But To the Editor of the European Magazine Nov. 10, 1817. CIR CHRISTOPHER HAWKINS's description of the Gilliflower Apple may be correct, as far as it goes. the Baronet should have added, that the gilliflower resembles the willow (much more than any apple-tree) in its leaf, its slender twigs, and drooping branches, and that its fruit, sweet almost as honey when perfectly ripe, is often hard, or rather spongy, and not very easy of digestion. He has overlooked also a singular fact, that almost every gilliflower-apple, when approaching to maturity, is punctured by some insect. And the fruit should never be gathered, till, after having received the puncture, a change in the contexture of the part so pierced is observable. The substance round the puncture has always a richer flavour than the rest, from the extravasation, I suppose, of the nutricious juice. As to the gilliflower's recent appearance in Cornwall, Sir Christopher is certainly mistaken. It flourished, full a ceptury ago, in the orchards of Polwhele, near Truro. The following extract from the fourth volume of Polwhele's History of Cornwall," (which includes the gilliflower), may be worth insertion in your valuable Miscellany, as containing a curious account of Cornish apples -"Of orchards, many parts of the county present but a cheerless prospect. Here, around Truro, in St. Clement's and in Kea particularly, our apple-trees are gone to decay. Our raciesť cider is, at the present day, produced in the hundred of Stratton, and in that of East, where it borders on the Tamar, from an apple called the xfiling, and in the neighbourhood of Fowey and Lestwithiel." After mentioning various apples (from Tonkin's MSS. and Forsyth's Treatise on Fruit-Trees), Mr. P. adds: I can enumerate a few others, such as Borlase's-pippin (introduced by Borlase at Treluddero), the Slade'spippin, the Blanchet, the Hasling, the Jany-gimlel, the stubbart, the Whitesour, the Bel-bone, the Jacky-Johns, the Cobble-dick-louger-skins, THE GILLIFLOWER, first produced in the Polwhele-orchards, and the Cloth-of-gold, once existing there, but now extinct." Vol. IV. p. 130. I remain your much obliged, MUSEUS. The Tamarisk is adopted by Withering as among the indigenous plants of Cornwall. But Mr. P. says, “Archbishop Grindall, who died in 1583, first brought it into England. It was planted at St. Michael's-Mount, whence a branch of it was carried to the Lizard, and stuck into a hedge." Vol IV. p. 126. In a note, he adds, "An old man of the Lizard informed me, that in bis father's time, a person came from the Mount with a branch of the tamarisk, which he had used for a whip, and that he carefully stuck it into a hedge there" where it has been propagated and grown ever since. The hedge is part of an enclosure (if I remember rightly) belonging to the last house at the Lizard point. A GENTLEMAN having a row of trees planted in the front of his house, at two rods distance from each other, and the first tree of the row forty rods from the same; his head to walk from his house to the one day took it in second tree and return to the first, then to the third and return to the first, and so on regularly to the last tree and back to his house, finding he had performed this walk in one hour, and being desirous of knowing the distance he had walked, he had it carefully measured, and it was found to be * See our Magazine for October, 1817, exactly four miles.--Quære the num page 327. ber of trees. WRITE to you as my son; and in my letters, I have pleased myself with the persuasion that you receive them as the counsels of a father, whose heart is expanded towards you in all that anxious desire for your happiness, to which I would attach a name, when I call it, parental feeling -a description of the sympathy which fills my breast, that none but a father can understand, and even he cannot describe it as it is understood by him. This, however, is not strange, since it bears a very close affinity in degree (sacris deducere humana) to the beaeficent tenderness of the Eternal Mind; and that which is eternal can only be comprehended in terms, not in ideas; that is, a word is used to express an idea which cannot be conveyed to another but by a communication of similar impressions. As the child, then, you cannot comprehend the sensibilities which attach me so intimately to your welfare, as to make your happiness my own. life, parents may be expected to leave this transitory scene of things before their children, yet our daily experience teaches us, that many very afflictive exceptions to this gradation of our mortality are to be looked for ;-but believe it may be justly asserted, that, whether child scend first into the chambers of death, there is not a pang among all the throes of dissolution that can pierce the soul of the former with more insupportable agony than that which remorse produces, when he calls to mind the hard speeches and contemptuous neglect with which he outraged the peace and destroyed the hope of an indulgent and anxious father or mother;-it matters not which, for both have an equal right to his duteous attentions-nor can he find any justification of his cruel indifference to their heart-rending regrets, in the plea that he has arrived at the age of manhood, and is no longer subject to the restrictions of their authority. A disobedient child is a rebel to his GoD; and while he repulses the tender earnestness of the natural authors of his being with rebellious scorn, and makes their well-meant precepts the subject of his insensate mockery, he scoffs at the law of Heaven, and despises that pure principle of paternal interest by which the Creator himself has vouchsafed to characterize his concern for mankind, adopting it as the most endearing attribute of Deity. In the moral law, the commandment by which we are enjoined to "honour our father and mother," follows imme diately after those injunctions which exact the tribute of our pious reverence for the true worship and the glorious name of Gon-from which arrangement we deduce the natural inference, that next to that holy submission and reverent regard which we owe to our Heavenly Father, it is his will that we should estimate in impor I would go farther, G, and make my consolation your's. Amid all the tribulations of my earthly trial, my recollection has never acknowledged that severe addition to the sufferings which I have had to encounter, the consciousness of unfilial treatment of my parents. I loved them; and I knew no greater felicity than to prove my affection by my conduct. When they went down to the grave, my regrets were aumixed with the bitter self-reproach which must invariably haunt the bosom of an ungrateful child. On the contrary, my soul rejoiced in the conviction, that as the few comforts of their life were not embittered, so the sorrows of their dying hour were not increased by any discomfiting reflectance that filial consideration which be tion, that I had cmitted in the slightest instance to consult their claim to my duteous and affectionate consideration. And, my dear G, a more effective consolation cannot be conceived, under the painful circumstances of the loss of our parents, than that which arises from a sense of so interesting an obligation having been fulfilled by us in all its extent of religious and moral relation. It is true, that in the natural progress of Europ. Mag. Vol. LXXIII. Jan. 1818. has ordained we should observe towards our earthly parents. And we may farther presume, that as this command is placed at the head of those interdicts by which we are forbidden to violate the obligations of our social condi tion, we are to accept it as that basis of our moral obedience on which a virtuous abhorrence of every criminal perpetration is most securely fixed. Aud indeed our common observation D |