FRAGMENTA.

BEING THOUGHTS, OBSERVATIONS, REFLECTIONS, AND CRITICISMS, WITH ANECDOTES AND CHARACTERS ANCIENT

AND MODERN.

THE

No. XIII.

CECONOMY.

THE following letter contains an instance of the most excellent domestic management which imagination can conceive. It may be depended on; for, facetious as the writer is known to be, he never indulges his humour at the expense of his veracity, and he avers every circumstance there related literally true.

"You ask what I have seen in my ramble worth relating. You are no antiquarian; I will not therefore teaze you with ruined abbeys, Gothic castles, Roman and Danish camps, or Druidical circles, but confine my narrative to a human curiosity. This is a Mr. Osbaldeston, an attorney's clerk, and spite of the popular prejudices against his profession is said to be an honest man. This you will allow to be a curiosity, but that is not all. This honest limb of the law is married, and has at least half-adozen children, all whom, with as many couple of hounds, and a brace of hunters, he maintains out of, how much do you think? Guess a little, I pray you. Why, then, to support himself, a wife, six children, twelve dogs, and two horses, he has not a penny more than sixty pounds per annum! and, incredible as it may appear, he did this in London for many years, paying every body their own, and keeping a tight coat for Sundays and holidays. But I will try to explain this seeming paradox. After the expiration of the time which Mr. Osbaldeston owed his master, he acted as an accountant to the butchers in Clare-market, who paid him in offal; the choicest morsels of this he selected for himself and family, and with the rest he fed his hounds, which he kept in his garret. His horses were lodged in his cellar, and fed on grains from a neighbouring brewhouse, and on damaged corn, with which he was supplied by a cor-chandler, whose books he kept in order. Once or twice a week, in the season, he hunted; and by giving a hare now and then to the farmers, over whose grounds he sported, secured their good will and permission. Besides which, several gentlemen, struck with his exEurop Mog. Vol. LXX. Sept, 1816.

traordinary economy, winked at his going over their manors with his moderate. pack.

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'Accident has since removed this uncommon man to Lewes, in Sussex, where, on the same stipend, he continues to maintain the same family. Curiosity led me to visit this extraordinary party about their dinner-time. The two-legged part of it were clean, though not superfluously clothed, and seemed to live like brothers with the surrounding animals. It looked, in short, like the golden age. Mr. O. himself seemed and acted like the father of the quadru peds, as well as the bipeds, and, as such,, divided with the utmost impartiality; for Master Jacky having taken a bone from Jowler, he commanded instant restitution. And, on the other hand, Doxy having snatched a piece of liver from Miss Dorothea, was obliged on the spot to restore it to the young lady.

"On inquiry, I found that Mr. O. was the younger son of a gentleman of good family, but small fortune, in the north of England; and that having imprudently married one of his father's servants, he was turned out of doors,, with no other fortune than a Southern hound, big with pup, whose offspring have since been a source of profit and amusement to him."

This very extraordinary character once resided, with the same family, at Croydon, in Surrey. I cannot help wishing Mr. Osbaldeston had fallen in with the disperser of the hand-bill which immediately follows this paragraph, and which was actually put into the hand of a friend, as he was passing the Strand, in March 1788. The industrious tailor would certainly have been employed by, that incomparable, and really respectable, economist, to regulate the wardrobe of the family.

it shall not be degraded by being put together in a slamakin and bungling manner, but shaped genteel, free, and easy, and put together with strength and beauty, so that it shall both do justice to the manufacturer and honour to the wearer, having instruments for that purpose, which are of themselves infallible, if not misguided by something which is mortal, of which all possible care will be taken to prevent: but to avoid too much quackery puffing, will come to ocular demonstration by producing some of their performance; viz. a tolerable decent suit, on his back, made out of two very ragged old coats, bought in Rosemary-lane for eighteenpence, and a coat that will admit four different changes of fashions, made out of a much smaller sized ragged old coat and breeches, bought at the same place for two shillings: breeches neatly fitted in the common way, without leg seams; ditto to wear either side outward, as two pair, either leather or cloth, or what any gentleman may choose, that can be put off without disturbing boots or shoes, even should they be dirty; and ditto with more conveniences than either, without any seam at all.

"Ladies riding-habits made in the genteelest taste; and those Ladies who make use of drawers may have them made on the new-invented breeches plan, without a seam at all, like a napkin, and with such conveniences never seen before; Young Gentlemen's first clothes made on a useful and diverting humorous plan, never done by any but bimself. This operator will undertake to make a decent coat in the present taste, which shall be, both for service and beauty, nearly equal to any new coat, out of (almost) the worst coat that was ever thrown off a tradesman's back: many more singular operations upon coats can be authenticated by Mr. Baber, at his hat manufactory, Charingcross; Mr. Price, clock and watch maker and mender, No. 26, St. Martin's-lane; Mr. Burford, tobacconist, Little St. Andrew-street, Seven Dials; Mr. Hutchinson, linen-draper, No. 1, Berkeley square; Mr. Vose, perukemaker, in Bedford-street, Bedford-row; Mr. Isherwood, at the Fountain, Peerless Pool, in the City-road; and Mr. Mardle, copper-smith, in Houndsditch. The above performances are at present carried on in a three pair of stair chambers, No. 127, near Exeter-Change, in the Strand, Number on the door, which

is always open in the day-time; but the business has been much retarded, for the want of some necessary instruments to carry it on, notwithstanding neither idleness nor extravagance have had any share in the cause of that complaint; there not having been ten shillings worth of animal food or liquors of any kind, except mint tea, been expended amongst six persons for these ten months past, four of that number being girls, and all incapable of earning one penny, the two eldest by misfortune, and the other two by their youth. Under this load, together with the narrowness of the present circumstances, it is found to be too hard to rise in the world; he therefore flatters himself, by making this his real case known to the public, that they will out of humanity assist his endeavours to support his family in a more Christian-like manner than at present, being more like swine and other beasts, not having six-pennyworth of linen amongst six persons, and all other necessaries wanting in like manner; the task is great! but yet not so great but what numbers may conquer, therefore will rest upon faith, to believe that the number of well-disposed people these may fall into the hands of, will never let it be said, that such a tradesman was found starved to death amongst the rags (where at present he now lies), under the shop-board, whose highest ambition is only to die and live on the top of it, and to be enabled to join temperance with prudence, to act in conjunction with fortitude and justice through the small remaining pas sage of this life.

over his nearest relations. A very singular and laughable instance of this is reported. He loved to attend dramatic exhibitions, and for his health's sake he chose to take a great coat with him. But where should he leave this useful appendage during the performance? The box-keepers would expect at least sixpence; the orange-girls would take little less and should he leave it in a coffee-house, he must spend threepence to obtain house-room for it. His invention supplied him with a method, cheaper and equally secure. He pawned his garment every evening that he attended the play, at a shop near the door, for a shilling, which he carried back to it at the close of the play, added one penny for interest, and received his great coat again safe and sound, as it had literally been laid up in lavender.

Look up at the inscription on that venerable building defaced with plaster. What does it record?" Beautified by Samuel Smear and Daniel Daub, Churchwardens." And do these honest gentlemen call disguising that fine old stone building with a thick coat of lime and hair, or white-wash, beautifying it!

What is the history of all this? Why the plain matter of fact is, that every parish-officer thinks he has a right to make a round bill on the hamlet, during his year of power. Au apothecary in office physics the poor. A glazier first in cleaning breaks the church-windows, and afterwards brings in a long bill for mending them. A painter repairs the commandments, puts new coats on Moses and Aaron, gilds the organ pipes, and dresses the little cherubims about the loft as fine as vermilion, Prussian blue, and Dutch gold, can make them. The late churchwardens chanced to be a silversmith and a woollen-draper: the silversmith new fashioned the communion plate, and the draper new clothed the pulpit, and put fresh curtains to the windows. All this might be done with some shadow of modesty; but to insult the good sense of every beholder with their beautified! Shame on them!

PARLIAMENT.

Are not they who think they shall do away all corruption by lopping off those which are called the rotten boroughs from the trunk of the constitution, extremely deceived? Will it not be, at least, as easy for a minister to

bribe the elected, who is but one, as the electors, who are many? Will not the old story of the two broom-sellers illustrate this observation? Said the one to the other, "How can you afford to sell your brooms cheaper than I can mine; I am sure I steal the wood, both for the handle and the brush.”. "But I," answered the other, “steal my brooms ready made."

May not Dr. Burney's anecdote of a set of parish-officers well typify the modern agitators of a parliamentary reform? They applied to Snetzler (a celebrated organ builder) to examine their organ, and to make improvements in it "Gentlemen," said the honest Swiss,

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your organ be wort von houdred pound just now-well-I will spend von hondred pound upon it, and it shall then be wort fifty."

It was a humorous thought, and well expressed by a gentleman (himself a representative for a county), who, when he heard that a bill was directed to be regulated by a committee consisting of Knights of shires and gentlemen of the long robe only; "that," said he, “is, in other words, all the knaves and fools

in the house."

PARTICULAR PROVIDENCE.

The opinion of our learned Selden on the subject of this article is as fols lows: "We cannot tell what is a judgment of God. It is presumption to take upon us to know. In time of plague, we know we want health, and therefore we

pray to God to give us health. In time of war, we know we want peace, and therefore we pray to God to give us falls on a man for something in hun we peace. Commonly we say a judgment cannot abide. An example we have in Henry IV. of France. One said he was K. James, concerning the death of killed for wenching; another said he was killed for turning his religion. -No,' says K. James (who could not abide fighting), he was killed for permitting duels in his kingdom."

The idea of a particular providence guiding every human transaction, though very pleasing, is of too delicate a nature to be clearly admissible in common life. It is a doctrine which, although the modest religionist uses with discretion, yet is eagerly grasped at, and seized with blind violence by the fanatic enthusiast. Some (and those too who ought

to be, from their education, superior to such "miseres") produce alternately heavy showers and clear skies to aid their preaching labours. They bring their virulent opposers to sudden and uncommon deaths; and the lower orders actually supply themselves with leather breeches, and their wives with quilted petticoats, all by the direction of a particular Providence.

An anecdote which came from the mouth of the late learned and inge nious Dr. Campbell, will point out strongly the impropriety of such a persuasion being trusted to our unsteady imaginations. The late Lord Holland, who loved and valued the Doctor's company, was sitting one morning condoling with him on their mutual infirmities, and lamenting, with a considerable degree of petulance, the inconveniences to which the want of health subjected mankind, when advanced in years. The door opened, and a well known paymaster and contractor entered the room, forid and full of health. They congratulated him on his sanguine looks-"Yes," he said, Providence had been very good to him, for he had never known a moment's sickness in his life." This declaration by no means softened the asperity of Lord Holland's countenance. The coutractor saw all was not right,

and took his leave.

"There now, Campbell, there now!" said the angry Peer, pointing to the door, "You see what Providence has been about taking care of that scoun drel's health, forsooth! and not mind

ing what became of your dropsical belly or of my d-d ringworm !"

INEFFICIENCY of our SUPERIOR CLASS

SIR,

FRIGATES."

To the Editor of the European Magazine. 11th July, 1816. FTER the loss of our three frigates, Government ordered ships to be constructed to match the American forty-fours. Two built of fir were lately on the American station. The Leander, one of them, although she measured 1571 tons, and mounted 58 guns, long twenty-fours and forty-two pounder carronades, had top sides not thicker than a thirty-six gur. frigate.+ Among her crew, consisting of 485, she had 44 boys!

*Huntington's "Bank of Faith." About sixteen inches.

This ship, commanded by a gallant officer, was fitted out to engage a ship like the President, with top sides, twentytwo inches thick at the port cills, made of oak, and perfectly solid. How fortunate, perhaps, that a meeting did not take place. The valour of the officers and men could not prevent the recoil of her own, nor the shot from the enemy's guns, from tearing to pieces her flimsy sides. She must either have sunk be neath her devoted crew, or surrendered! What could we have said then? A SEAMAN.

THE LITERARY GARDEN.
No. XVIII.

*Αφνεὸς πενιχρός τε θανάτου

Παρὰ σᾶμα νέονται. PINDAR. The rich and the poor must alike enter the grave,

Onnes eodem cogimur, HOR.
Hither must we all come.

Narriving at a town or village to which I am a stranger, one of the first objects of my curiosity is the church-yard.

It was in the month of August, that stopping for a few days, in my way to London, at a small town in the county of Warwick, I took as usual a stroll to my favourite spot, the bu rial place of the dead.

and sufficiently spacious, was situate on The church, if not elegant, yet neat a brow, commanding, in the form of a crescent, an extensive and rich pros spect. Gently declining from the emi, nence on which it stood were meadows enamelled with, flowers, or fields variegated with grain. At the foot of these, in the dale, were two calm and expansive lakes; on the margin of which, on the one side, were grazing cattle, and on the other verdant woods, through openings of which, on smooth and sloping lawns, spotted by deer, and clumped with trees, were to be seen lifting their stately fronts in some directions the mansions of the rich; and in others, concealed by the foliage that surrounded them, the humbler cottages only perceivable by the pearly smoke that issued from their tops, or the white pales that enclosed their limits. Beyond the woods to the west, like a grand amphitheatre, arose gradually the nut-brown hills of Shropshire, out-topped and bounded in the distance by the deep-blue mountains of the land of Odin. Crowned with its ternal red-tinged spires, and peeping

from a valley to the north, shone forth in all its beauty the celebrated city of Staffordshire, the proud parent of a Johnson and a Garrick. To the south, in all their grandeur, the cupolas, the spires, and the edifices of the busy Birmingham; the rich possessor of enterprizing merchants and ingenious artizans; a glorious monument of industry, but yesterday a hamlet; to-day in extent and population vying with the first of towns. The neat and peaceful habitations of the place at which I was then staying shut out the prospect to

the east.

Wishing to perform as much of my journey before dinner as the fatigue of travelling, dusty roads, and a powerful sun, would allow me, I arrived at the town of which we are now speaking at a late hour in the day.

Evening, indeed, was already ap proaching. It was the time when the merry milk maid with her song was carrying the pail to the cow, and the husbandman, wearied with his toil, yet whistling as he went, having relieved his patient horses from the yoke, was returning them in all their frolics to the pasture. A scene like this, at such an hour, and in such a situation, to a contemplative mind, could not be otherwise than peculiarly impressive. Man, worn with toil returning to his home, and the beast to his pasture, the declining sun and the advancing shades, the verdant hills and the distant and unbounded mountains, the stream hastening to the lake, the changing leaf and the falling crops: Such objects could not fail to fill the imagination and swell the soul. It was in truth a picture by the hand of Nature, and the subject of it was human life. In the foreground she had depicted, in glowing colours, the progress of time, the bre. vity of life, and certainty of decay in the distance she had placed eternity.

Filled with such sentiments, and satisfied with the contemplation of these objects, I cast an inadvertent eye upon the spot whereon I stood. Struck with the contrast of the scene, I remained fixed for some moments in senseless silence. Till then I had been surveying busy cities and crowded houses, the mansions of the gay, green pastures adorned with flowers, and yellow fields enriched with fruits-till then I had been listening to the lowing of herds and the bleat ing of flocks, the ploughboy's carol and

the milkmaid's song-in a word, I had been viewing man in all his pride, and creation in all its glory. Now I beheld the still receptacles of mortality, the gloomy mansions of the dead; earth deformed with rugged heaps and mouldering tombs; a place where not a sound was to be heard-it was nature in all its wretchedness, and man in all his humility-Low in the dust beneath me were the generations of ages and the populations of towns; here lay the inhabitants of districts, families and founders of families, fathers and forefathers-here in an undistinguished mass were husbands and wives, parents and children, strangers and acquaintance; lost relationships and forgotten kindred-friendships without unity, and animosities without division-youth with all thy vigour and decrepitude with all thy infirmities, beauty with all thy loveliness and deformity with all thy disgust, where is the distinction? Here, said I, is title deprived of its pomp, and riches of their splendor-where now is the wisdom of the philosopher, or the strength of the powerful? or what avail now the contumely of the proud or the machinations of the base.

Engaged in such reflections, I had not before observed the presence of an old gentleman, who at no great distance from the spot was leaning on a staff, and appeared to contemplate with more than ordinary interest a monumental stone to which he had placed himself opposite.

There was something in his features that marked character and commanded veneration; in short, he appeared to be one of those who had met with much adversity, and borne with much patience-a living pillar of suffering worth. Such a fabric I could not behold without reverence as in contemplating the relics of an ancient temple or an antique statue, the crumbled column and the channel'd feature impart to the soul more reverence and to the mind more conviction than the lore of sophists or the record of ages; so the snowy locks, the furrowed features, and the tottering limbs, of this venerable man of grief, better numbered his years and told his sorrows than volumes with all their assertions, and words with all their embellishments.

He was raising his hand to wipe away the tear that trickled down his check, when, in turning his head, he first per