Like an by Tasso, to reproach the ingratitude of his patron-a bee-hive destroyed for its honey, with the motto-"Evil for good." Such is the disjointed and unnatural state of England, that it is not easy to foresee a remedy for this alternation of misery between the manufacturer and the agriculturist, one of which classes can only be relieved at the expense of the other, thus keeping both, as an alliterative friend of mine expresses it, in a round robin of ruin, and a successive see-saw of starvation. enormous millstone round the neck of the nation, the public debt drags every thing from its equilibrium; and so long as we endeavour to support its entire weight, we shall be destined, I am afraid, to illustrate the fate of the pig who cut his own throat in endeavouring to keep his head above water. Symptoms of a change in our system begin, however, to manifest themselves. Cries of "Nemo tenetur ad impossibile” have been raised in Parliament, and received with acclamations; those who make the laws are necessarily landholders, and the result of a contest between the agricultural and funded interests cannot be doubtful. Already have the former repealed the Horse-Tax against all the influence of the minister, and, having thus felt their strength, it is not likely they will relax in their efforts; nor, if self-preservation be the first law of nature, can they fairly be blamed for throwing other people's property overboard instead of their own, when the state vessel is in danger of foundering. How well do I remember, when the Pilot who weathered the storm, or as he is sometimes termed with Hibernian felicity" the immortal statesman now no more," levelled every variety of contemptuous sneer, taunt, and ridicule against the French nation, for their want of credit, while he magnified the power and blessings which England enjoyed from the inexhaustibility of her financial resources. Alas! like the wonders to be wrought by his Sinking-fund, the blessings have disappeared,-the burthens remain: England is struggling with difficulties which she never can surmount but by a violation of faith with the public creditor; while France, after all the repayments and contributions exacted in two quick succeeding conquests, is in a more flourishing financial condition than any country of the world.-MEM. not to write about politics or political economy in future, for we have been lately satiated with the subject in England, and in France it is reckoned" contra bonos mores.' Arrived at Dover, and learned, to our infinite disappointment, that the steam-boat, by which we intended to cross, had met with an accident at Calais, and could not be repaired for some months. Aware of the prejudice existing among "the old shipping interest" against this most delightful innovation, I enquired where I could find any person connected with it, but was universally informed, that it was conducted by a stranger, and that no friends belonging to the establishment were living at Dover. Distrusting every person lounging about the beach, or attired in blue trowsers, I betook myself to respectable tradesmen, as far as possible from the perfidious ocean: they were unanimous as to the vessel having been nearly beaten to pieces, though they differed as to the time when she might be expected over; none, however, thinking it could be less than three months, and some deeming the injury altogether irreparable. To make assurance doubly sure, I applied finally to the landlady of my hotel, who very candidly told me, that there was a gentleman in the place attached to the steam-boat establishment; that she expected him to call in about half an hour, and would send him to my room. He presented himself accordingly, and I instantly saw by his looks that the news was all true. He had only that morning received a letter from the captain, informing him that the iron paddles could not be repaired at Calais, and that she must be towed over to Dover, where he feared he should inevitably be detained a month or five weeks. In this emergency, he recommended me, as a friend, to embark on board the regular packet, which with the wind then prevailing could not be above three or four hours in effecting the passage. I took his advice:--the first person I saw on board "the regular packet," when I had bargained for my conveyance, was himself acting as mate:-we had a miserable passage of eight hours, all dreadfully ill; and, on the morning following our arrival, had the mortification of seeing the steam-boat cutting out of Calais harbour in gallant trim, as if she were flying over the waters to confound all the detractors and falsifiers of Dover. Remembered the anecdote of Gibbon, who, being disturbed, when writing his history, by the quarrels of two servants beneath his window, proceeded to investigate the cause, but was utterly unable to ascertain the truth between their conflicting statements. "How futile," he exclaimed, "the task on which I am now employed, of deciding some contested point of the quarrel between Cæsar and Antony, when I cannot pronounce upon a fact which has occurred within this half hour almost in my own presence."-MEM. not to learn distrust and a general system of doubting from these instances; for it is better to be an occasional dupe than a systematic Pyrrhonist. Having lost the tide at Calais, we were forced to disembark in small boats, at an additional expense of four francs each, an imposition first sanctioned by the mayor of Dover, and only a retaliation on the part of the French. As we approached the shore, the national character instantly began to manifest itself: each of the rowers, utterly indifferent to the orders of the steersman, seemed to have a plan of his own for avoiding the breakers, which he supported with inconceivable vehemence of voice and gesticulation, echoed and even surpassed by a hundred half-naked fellows on the beach, who, as we drew near, rushed into the water, and seizing us amidst a thousand exclamations, all uttered in the highest key of their voice, conveyed us in their arms, or on their backs, to the wet sands, where, upon paying one franc and a half more, each person had the pleasure of finding himself standing in a French puddle. Contrasted this vociferous and attitudinising hurlyburly with an incident of which I was once a witness, and which evinced the phlegmatic energy of the English character. In one of our steam-boats a sudden gust of wind having blown the steersman's hat into the water, he muttered an oath--rang the bell, which gave notice to the superintendant of the boiler below to take off the steam and stop the vessel, and calling out the word "Tom!" to a sailor, pointed to the floating beaver. Without uttering a word, Tom touched a messmate's shoulder, and repeated the signal with his finger, when they both jumped into the small boat at the vessel's stern, pulled instantly away with all their strength,-recovered the hat, and delivered their dripping prize in perfect silence to the steersman, who again rang the bell as a signal to proceed, and we resumed our voyage with no other expenditure of breath than a muttered oath, and the pronunciation of the word "Tom!" On board a French vessel a similar occurrence would have raised a hundred voices and shoulders at once, and amid the general uproar they would probably have never decided what was to be done until the hat had sunk, when they would have attitudinised, and exclaimed for half an hour longer. Another half franc for permission to mount Calais Pier enabled us to consider ourselves fairly in France, not all disposed to quarrel with Dr. Johnson's definition of a ship, and very much inclined to doubt the existence of that nautical beau ideal, the dramatic sailor. Passed under the gate rendered familiar to the most untravelled Englishman by Hogarth's satirical caricature, and found a comfortable hotel in the Rue Eustache St. Pierre, so named from the celebrated mayor, who resided in it at the time of the memorable surrender, which history and Colman's popular opera have combined to impress upon our recollections. Could that patriotic magistrate lift up his head from beneath the vaults of the great church, we could not help fancying that he would find very little change in the houses or habiliments of his fellow-citizens, for every thing appertaining to Calais has an air inconceivably antique, and forms a contrast to England as sudden as it is singular and amusing. One of the first reflections that crossed my mind was-the folly and wickedness of kings and rulers, by which two nations, formed to esteem and improve one another, have, for the greatest part of every century, been debarred from mutual intercourse: or only allowed to meet for the rational recreation of cutting one another's throats, or thrusting bayonets into one another's bodies; while their governors, aloof from danger, patted their besotted victims on the back, and stimulated their ferocity till the work of destruction was complete. I recalled the sanguinary wars occasioned by weak monarchs, wicked favourites, and profligate mistresses, not forgetting the political change and convulsion emanating from an angry kick which the Pope bestowed on an English ambassador's lap-dog, for snapping at his spangled slipper; and I had already begun to concoct a philippic worthy of Demosthenes, when it occurred to me, that, in many instances, the rulees might be quite as much in fault as the rulers.-The London merchants, I remember, threw up their hats and gave three cheers when the war was renewed between France and England; and I cannot help considering the pressure and misery which they are now enduring, as a fit reward for their sordid inhumanity.-MEM. Not to indulge too much in declamation, nor impute all the miseries of the world to those who are so obliging as to assume its management. Their fair share is quite enough. If any one should ever peruse this album, he will find strange transitions, for I record whatever comes uppermost (as the phrase is); though it is, perhaps, no very violent change of subject, to wander from the heads of nations to the heads of the women, which, among the lower orders, are here universally cased in a clean white cap, without any bonnet. Market-day at Calais afforded us a good opportunity of seeing them assembled, and we pronounced them decidedly more cleanly and better dressed than the same ranks in England; even the fishwomen forming a contrast, by their clean head-dresses and stockings, and decent attire as well as demeanour, to that utter abandonment of person and language, for which the ladies of Billingsgate have rendered themselves so notorious. This favourable impression was confirmed on the following evening, when a few sous procured us admission to the Vauxhall of the place, consisting of a shabby room for dancing, with a band of three or four fiddlers, and a small open plat, for the same purpose, surrounded by arbours. It was crowded to excess with soldiers, sailors, and tradespeople, all well-dressed, many of the women even deserving to be termed genteel, if not elegant, in their appearance, and all dancing waltzes and quadrilles, with a spirit, grace, and decorum, that would have done honour to a more select assemblage. Several couples, who could not get admittance into the grand saloon (as it was rather undeservedly called), were dancing outside, while a refreshment-room at the end, notwithstanding the inviting notice that all sorts of liquors were to be had within, at prices subjoined, did not contain a single tenant.-In England, all this would have been reversed; and, as if to complete the contrast, the evening on which we witnessed this universal scene of festivity, was Sunday. Calais is a fortified town of some extent; and having a good market, an extensive pier, and daily intercourse with England possesses attractions as a place of residence for our countrymen, of which a good many [To be continued.] have availed themselves. SONG. AVAUNT with your babble of Venus and Cupid, I never could yet be thus silly or stupid, I worship, at sunset beneath the blue dome, Unaided, amid the romantic seclusion, Her priest and attendant-1 fling o'er the air The incense of passion; secure from intrusion, Though crowds of young gallants my priesthood would share; For I am no Jesuit, nor proselytes need, While flowers, birds, and zephyrs, with planets above, Pay homage to her, and, adopting my creed, Unite in the blissful religion of love. J. SONNET. YES! it is beautiful-that summer scene, With all the lights of morning o'er it gleaming,- A thought whose presence quenches not, nor checks Such musings are delightful, for they fall With noble thoughts of linmortality. PANANTI'S EPIGRAMS. E. T. PANANTI, who is chiefly known in England by his interesting account of his captivity among the Turks, is much esteemed in Florence as a wit and a pure Tuscan writer. His epigrams are in great circulation in Italian society, where they are admired for their causticity, political allusion, boldness, and liberality of sentiment. The volume which he has printed, though pruned of whatever might give umbrage to the powers that be, has considerable merit. A large part, however, consists of translations from the French, English, and ancient epigrammatists; and of those pieces which are original, many partake too much of the licentiousness, as well as of the purity of diction of the fifteenth century, to render them generally acceptable to an English public. E dell' anima í fatti In vece d'aggiustar, sull' ore estreme Fino a quanto montava La spesa del suo male. Tanto al medico, tanto allo speziale, Tanto per l'inventario e sepoltura Tanto ci vuol per rinibiancar le mura, Tanto in messe ed in altre opere buone, Oltre il render la dote alla consorte. Oh! gridò con ragione E' così spaventevole la morte. Stretch'd on his bed of death old Thomas lying, And pretty certain he was dying, Instead of summing his offences, Began to reckon his expenses, For mixture, bolus, draught and pill, A long apothecary's bill; And guineas gone in paying doctors, With fees t'attorneys, and to proctors; The sexton's and the parson's due, M. |