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قراءة كتاب The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction Volume 17, No. 479, March 5, 1831

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The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction
Volume 17, No. 479, March 5, 1831

The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction Volume 17, No. 479, March 5, 1831

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دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
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and the restoration of London and its Cathedral swallowed up the produce of the quarries. "It was at first used," says Elmes, "by the members of the Royal Society, for astronomical experiments, but was abandoned on account of its vibrations being too great for the nicety required in their observations. This occasioned a report that it was unsafe; but its scientific construction may bid defiance to the attacks of all but earthquakes for centuries."

Life of Wren.—Family Library.


G. MORLAND.

H. Morland, wine merchant, brother of the painter, says, "that his brother died while his servant was holding a glass of gin (his favourite liquor) over his shoulder. And he was so prodigal at times that he had not enough to buy ultra-marine with, although a few hours before he had invited a great number of his associates to a general debauch."

GEO. ST. CLAIR.


Cowley's House, at Chertsey.

COWLEY'S HOUSE, AT CHERTSEY.

Cowley retired to these premises at Chertsey, in Surrey, a few years before his death, which took place here in 1667, in his 49th year. The premises are called the Porch House, and were for many years occupied by the late Richard Clark, Esq., Chamberlain of London, who died a short time since. Mr. Clark, in honour of the Poet, took much pains to preserve the premises in their original state, kept an original portrait of Cowley, and had affixed a tablet in front, containing Cowley's Latin Epitaph on himself. In the year 1793, it was supposed that the ruinous state of the house rendered it impossible to support the building, but it was found practicable to preserve the greater part of it, to which some rooms have been added. Mr. Clark also placed a tablet in front of the building where the porch stood, with the following inscription:—"The Porch of this House, which projected ten feet into the highway, was, in the year 1792, removed for the safety and accommodation of the public.

"Here the last accents flowed from Cowley's tongue."

We received the substance of this information from the venerable Mr. Clark himself, in the year 1822, about which time there appeared, in the Monthly Magazine, a view of the original premises, from a drawing by the late Mr. Samuel Ireland. The above view was taken by a Correspondent, in the summer of 1828, and represents the original portion of the mansion. Cowley's study is here pointed out, being a closet in the back part of the house, towards the garden.

How delightfully must COWLEY have passed his latter days in the rural seclusion of Chertsey! How he must have loved that earthly paradise—his garden—who could write thus for his epitaph:

From life's superfluous cares enlarg'd,

His debt of human toil discharg'd,

Here COWLEY lies, beneath this shed,

To ev'ry worldly interest dead;

With decent poverty content;

His hours of ease not idly spent;

To fortune's goods a foe profess'd,

And, hating wealth, by all caress'd

'Tis sure he's dead; for, lo! how small

A spot of earth is now his all!

O! wish that earth may lightly lay,

And ev'ry care be far away!

Bring flow'rs, the short-liv'd roses bring,

To life deceased fit offering!

And sweets around the poet strow,

Whilst yet with life his ashes glow.

Again:

Sweet shades, adieu! here let my dust remain,

Covered with flowers, and free from noise and pain;

Let evergreens the turfy tomb adorn,

And roseate dews (the glory of the morn)

My carpet deck; then let my soul possess

The happier scenes of an eternal bliss.

Then, too, the delightful chapter Of Gardens which he addressed to the virtuous John Evelyn.

We quote these few illustrations of Cowley's character from Mr. Felton's very interesting volume "on the Portraits of English Authors on Gardening."—By the way, at page 100, in a Note, Mr. Felton makes a flattering reference to one of our earliest works, which we are happy to learn has not escaped his observation.


SPIRIT OF THE
PUBLIC JOURNALS.


ORIGIN OF PAUL "PRY."

(By the Author.)

The idea of the character of Paul Pry was suggested by the following anecdote, related to me several years ago, by a beloved friend:—An idle old lady, living in a narrow street, had passed so much of her time in watching the affairs of her neighbours, that she, at length, acquired the power of distinguishing the sound of every knocker within hearing. It happened that she fell ill, and was, for several days, confined to her bed. Unable to observe in person what was going on without, she stationed her maid at the window, as a substitute for the performance of that duty. But Betty soon grew weary of the occupation: she became careless in her reports—impatient and tetchy when reprimanded for her negligence.

"Betty, what are you thinking about? don't you hear a double knock at No. 9? Who is it?"

"The first-floor lodger, Ma'am."

"Betty! Betty!—I declare I must give you warning. Why don't you tell me what that knock is at No. 54!"

"Why, Lord! Ma'am, it is only the baker, with pies."

"Pies, Betty! what can they want with pies at 54?—they had pies yesterday!"

Of this very point I have availed myself. Let me add that Paul Pry was never intended as the representative of any one individual, but a class. Like the melancholy of Jaques, he is "compounded of many Simples;" and I could mention five or six who were unconscious contributors to the character.—That it should have been so often, though erroneously, supposed to have been drawn after some particular person, is, perhaps, complimentary to the general truth of the delineation.

With respect to the play, generally, I may say that it is original: it is original in structure, plot, character, and dialogue—such as they are. The only imitation I am aware of is to be found in part of the business in which Mrs. Subtle is engaged: whilst writing those scenes I had strongly in my recollection Le Vieux Celibataire. But even the little I have adopted is considerably altered and modified by the necessity of adapting it to the exigencies of a different plot.—New Monthly Magazine.


MAUREEN.

The cottage is here as of old I remember,

The pathway is worn as it always hath been;

On the turf-piled hearth there still lives a bright ember;—

But where is Maureen?

The same pleasant prospect still lieth before me,

The river—the mountain—the valley of green,

And Heaven itself (a bright blessing!) is o'er me;—

But where is Maureen?

Lost! Lost!—Like a dream that hath come and departed,

(Ah, why are the loved and the lost ever seen!)

She has fallen—hath flown, with a lover false-hearted;—

So, mourn for Maureen.

And she who so loved her is slain—(the poor mother!)

Struck dead in a day by a shadow unseen,

And the home we once loved is the home of another,

And lost is Maureen.

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