ways, and throws

Thoughts into circulation,

Of trivial value each, but which

Combin’d, make social converse rich

In cheerful animation.

As bows unbent recruit their force.

Our minds by frivolous discourse

We strengthen and embellish,

“Let us be wise,” said Plato once,

When talking nonsense—“yonder dunce

For folly has no relish.”

The solemn bore, who holds that speech

Was given us to prose and preach,

And not for lighter usance,

Straight should be sent to Coventry;

Or omnium concensu, be

Indicted as a nuisance.

Though dull the joke, ‘tis wise to laugh,

Parch’d be the tongue that cannot quaff

Save from a golden chalice;

Let jesters seek no other plea,

Than that their merriment be free

From bitterness and malice.

Silence at once the ribald clown.

And check with an indignant frown

The scurrilous backbiter;

But speed good-humour as it runs,

Be even tolerant of puns,

And every mirth-exciter.

The wag who even fails may claim

Indulgence for his cheerful aim;

We should applaud, not hiss him;

This is a pardon which we grant,

(The Latin gives the rhime I want,)

“Et petimus vicissim.”

Ibid.

Weekly Review.

VILLANOVA MILL.

The Portuguese mills have a very extraordinary appearance, owing chiefly to the shape of their arms or sails, the construction of which differs from that of all other mills in Europe.

Villanova de Milfontès is a little town, situated at the mouth of a little river which flows from the Sierra de Monchique. Formerly there was a port here, formed by a little bay, and defended by a castle, which might have been of some importance at a period when the Moors made such frequent incursions upon the coasts of the kingdom of the Algarves; at present a dangerous bar and banks of quicksands hinder any vessels larger than small fishing-boats from entering the port.

Fig trees from 20 to 30 feet high overshadow the moat of the castle, and aloes plants as luxuriant as those of Andalusia, shoot up their stems crowned with flowers along the shores of the bay, and by the sides of the roads, whose windings are lost amongst the gardens that surround Milfontès.

We have seen Mr. HAYDON’S PICTURE of the Chairing of the Members; but must defer our description till the next number of the MIRROR. In the meantime we recommend our readers to visit the exhibition, so that they may compare notes with us. “The Chairing” is even superior to the “Election.”

NOTES OF A READER.

STORY OF RIENZI.

(The original of Miss Mitford’s New Tragedy.)

In the year 1437, an obscure man, Nicola di Rienzi, conceived the project of restoring Rome, then in degradation and wretchedness, not only to good order, but even to her ancient greatness. He had received an education beyond his birth, and nourished his mind with the study of the best writers. After many harangues to the people, which the nobility, blinded by their self-confidence, did not attempt to repress, Rienzi suddenly excited an insurrection, and obtained complete success. He was placed at the head of a new government, with the title of Tribune, and with almost unlimited power. The first effects of this revolution were wonderful. All the nobles submitted, though with great reluctance; the roads were cleared of robbers; tranquillity was restored at home; some severe examples of justice intimidated offenders; and the tribune was regarded by all the people as the destined restorer of Rome and Italy. Most of the Italian republics, and some of the princes, sent embassadors, and seemed to recognise pretensions which were tolerably ostentatious. The King of Hungary and Queen of Naples submitted their quarrel to the arbitration of Rienzi, who did not, however, undertake to decide it. But this sudden exaltation intoxicated his understanding, and exhibited feelings entirely incompatible with his elevated condition. If Rienzi had lived in our own age, his talents, which were really great, would have found their proper orbit, for his character was one not unusual among literary politicians; a combination of knowledge, eloquence, and enthusiasm for ideal excellence, with vanity, inexperience of mankind, unsteadiness, and physical timidity. As these latter qualities became conspicuous, they eclipsed his virtues, and caused his benefits to be forgotten: he was compelled to abdicate his government, and retire into exile. After several years, some of which he passed in the prison of Avignon, Rienzi was brought back to Rome, with the title of senator, and under the command of the legate. It was supposed that the Romans, who had returned to their habits of insubordination, would gladly submit to their favourite tribune. And this proved the case for a few months; but after that time they ceased altogether to respect a man who so little respected himself in accepting a station where he could no longer be free, and Rienzi was killed in a sedition.

“The doors of the capitol,” says Gibbon, “were destroyed with axes and with fire; and while the senator attempted to escape in a plebeian garb, he was dragged to the platform of his palace, the fatal scene of his judgments and executions;” and after enduring the protracted tortures of suspense and insult, he was pierced with a thousand daggers, amidst the execrations of the people.

At Rome is still shown a curious old brick dwelling, distinguished by the appellation of “The House of Pilate,” but known to be the house of Rienzi. It is exactly such as would please the known taste of the Roman tribune, being composed of heterogeneous scraps of ancient marble, patched up with barbarous brick pilasters of his own age; affording an apt exemplification of his own character, in which piecemeal fragments of Roman virtue, and attachment to feudal state—abstract love of liberty, and practice of tyranny—formed as incongruous a compound.

ENGLISH WARS.

A pamphlet, entitled, A Call upon the People of Great Britain and Ireland, has lately reached us; but as its contents are purely political, we must content ourselves with a few historical data. Thus, of the 127 years from the Revolution to 1815, 65 have passed in war, during which “high trials of right,” 2,023½ millions have been expended in seven wars. Of these we give a synopsis: