after which it was rated at four-pence, a great sum in those days, when the value of specie was extremely high. It was likewise required, that the animal should be perfect in its senses of hearing and seeing, should be a good mouser, have its claws whole, and if a female, be a careful nurse. If it failed in any of these qualifications, the seller was to forfeit to the buyer the third part of its value. If any one should steal or kill the cat that guarded the prince's granary, the offender was to forfeit either a milch ewe, her fleece, and lamb, or as much wheat as when poured on the cat suspended by its tail, (its head touching the floor) would form a heap high enough to cover the tip of the tail. From these circumstances (says Pennant) we may conclude that cats were not originally natives of these islands, and from the great care taken to improve and preserve the breed of this prolific creature, we may with propriety suppose that they were but little known at that period.

When Mr. Baumgarten was at Damascus, he saw there a kind of hospital for cats; the house in which they were kept was very large, walled round, and was said to be quite full of them. On inquiring into the origin of this singular institution, he was told that Mahomet, when he once lived there, brought with him a cat, which he kept in the sleeve of his gown, and carefully fed with his own hands. His followers in this place, therefore, ever afterwards paid a superstitious respect to these animals; and supported them in this manner by public alms, which were very adequate to the purpose. Browne, in his History of Jamaica, tells us, "A cat is a very dainty dish among the negroes."

P.T.W.

ST. DUNSTAN'S, FLEET STREET.

(To the Editor of the Mirror.)

In your account of this church, in No. 388, I perceive you state that the clock and figures were put up in 1761, whereas I find by reference to works on this subject, that they were so placed in 1671.¹

There are many curious monuments in this church, and among others, is the beautiful one to the memory of Sir Richard Hoare, Knt. who was Lord Mayor of London in the memorable year 1745, at which "alarming crisis," in the words of the inscription, "he discharged the great trust reposed in him with honour and integrity, to the approbation of his sovereign and the universal satisfaction of his fellow citizens." He died in 1754, and was buried in this church. The monument, which is of marble, consists of a sarcophagus, above which is a cherub in the act of crowning a beautiful bust of Sir Richard with a laurel wreath, above is a shield of arms, within an orb ar. sa. a spread eagle of the first bearing an escutcheon of pretence ar. a lion ppr. in chief in base a chev. gu. charged with three escallop shells of the first, impaling a saltire sa. between four crosses fitche of the same. Crest, a griffin's head erased ar. An inscription on the base informs us the monument was restored in 1820, at the expense of the parish, "in testimony of their grateful sense of obligation to a family whose eminent virtue and munificence it is intended to perpetuate."

In the vestry of this church is preserved a finely executed portrait of the "Virgin Queen," in stained glass; and there is also another window consisting of the effigy of St. Matthias, but this is not to be compared with the other for execution.

A.P.D.

CONSTANTINOPLE.

(For the Mirror.)

One of the finest buildings in Constantinople is a fountain in an open square, near the seraglio gate; it is a place built and maintained by the Grand Vizier, for the people to come and draw water, who have it served out to them in great jugs by people who are constantly in attendance to fill them; the jugs are chained to the place, and stand in rows about four feet from the ground, between gilt iron bars in front of the building. There are men always ready inside to draw the water and fill the jugs, which till people come are kept full; these men receive a yearly salary.

The houses are chiefly built of wood, and reach so far over the top that in some of the streets it would be very possible to get from the windows of one house to another across the street. By this manner of building, any one who has seen the place will not wonder at the frequent and fatal conflagrations there, for if once a fire break out it must burn till it comes to some garden or large vacant place to stop at. The Bussard is the most regular part of the city, and has a number of parallel streets crossing one another, and covered at the top with planks which keep out the rain and sun. Here all the richest and finest goods in Constantinople are put out to show, as a pattern or sample of the merchants' stock, for sale in their warehouses at home. Every street has its particular trade, so that there is no mixture of shops as in other capitals. One street is occupied by goldsmiths, another by silk and brocade merchants; grocers and tailors have also different streets to themselves. The city is always shut up at ten at night, so that no one can have entrance or get out after that time. Indeed there is scarcely any one in the streets after dusk, for every one then goes to rest, so that when daylight is gone no business can be transacted; but the people are obliged to pray every night one hour and a half after dark, when the priests go up into the towers of the mosques, and in a loud voice call crowds to prayers in these words:—"God is great; (three times) give testimony there is but one God, yield yourselves to his mercy, and pray to him to forgive your sins. God is great (three times more) there is no other God but God."

INA.

THE NOVELIST.

THE BACHELOR'S REVENGE.

(For the Mirror.)

Mr. Hardingham, or as some of his very intimate friends used to call him, Jack Hardingham, lived in a dull looking house in —— Square, his profession (the law) was dull, his fire and fireside were dull; and as he sat by the former one dull evening, in the dullest of all his dull humours, and of such the lonely bachelor had many, he sighed, kicked his shins, and looked into his books; but as that was like gazing upon a very ugly face, he shut them again, and rang the bell. It was answered by a portly dame, whose age might be about some four or five and forty, whose complexion was fair, whose chubby cheeks were brilliantly rosy, and whose black eyes were so vividly lustrous, that one might have fancied the delicate cap-border near them, in danger from their fire. Over her full-formed bust, she wore a clear, and stiffly-starched muslin habit-shirt of purest white, a beautiful lace-edged ruff around her throat, over her ample shoulders was thrown a fawn-coloured shawl, and she wore also, a silver gray gown of the material called Norwich crape, with an apron rivalling in whiteness cap, habit-shirt, and ruff. We are particular in describing the costume of this fair creature, because when dress is invariably the same, it has unity with person; it is identified with its wearer, and our affections even are caught and retained by it, in a manner of which few are aware. On the exterior of the lady whom we have endeavoured to portray, "housekeeper" was as indelibly stamped as the effigy of our king on the coin of the realm; and in a most soft and insinuating tone, she said, "Would you be pleased to want any thing, sir?"

"Yes, Mrs. Honeydew—go and ask if they can't let me have De Vere."

"Yes, sir."

"Or the Chronicles of the Canongate."

"Yes, sir."

"Or Anne of Geierstein."