THE Schoolmaster, AND EDINBURGH WEEKLY MAGAZINE. CONDUCTED BY JOHN JOHNSTONE. THE SCHOOL MASTER IS ABROAD. - LORD BROUGHAM. No. 23. VOL. II. SATURDAY, JANUARY 5, 1833. PRICE THREE-HALFPENCE. NOTES OF THE MONTH. January takes its name from Janus, the double by the severity of the frost. The wagtails, the wrens, the red-breast, and often the king-fisher, and all the little mute song-birds are flying faced gate-keeper of the gods, and the presider about in every direction in search of food, over the Temple of Peace. I is the coldest month of the natural, and should be the warmest of the social year. The severity of the weather may be the cause that impels man, bird, and beast, to a closer intimacy in their common defence. In our own country, January is more the prescribed time of festivity than the quiet fire-side months which precede it. The fine, clear, bracing weather makes this a time of keen enjoyment to the pedestrian, and healthfully-minded lover of nature. It is also the very heyday of gregarious and robust games and sports; - cricket and its Highland cousin, the shinny, curling, skaiting, and sliding, lead to the prescribed "Beef and Greens," the whisky-toddy, glees, catches, merry clinches, and filched Joe Millers of the evening. The fineness of the weather leads the ladies abroad, wrapt in red shawls and furs, to witness sports in which, while the grey-haired sire launches his last curling stone, the urchin tempts his first fall on a span-long slide. Pleasant tea-drinking female parties are now hurriedly arranged on the ice; and the ladies left to themselves, quadrille with each other, and regale on the chicken and jellies, and the cake and bun, the relics of the late solemn, high, annual festivals. These are but a handful of the pleasures of January, which, with other riches, brought us a new Waverley novel, for so many years, that we can scarcely yet submit with patience to the privation. There is no season more suitable for long forenoon walks, or in which young people will see more, or find more to observe in the country. Now is the time to make acquaintance in fields and woods, by pools and streams, with the birds of passage, and water-fowl, and the little trooping birds that congregate till the few genial days usual with us in early February again disperse them. Even the birds that never leave us are now gathered in flocks; the chaffinches and linnets, as well as the field-fares, starlings, and cushats. Besides coots, teal, and other wild ducks, one now sees around pools the herons and aquatic birds, driven from the frozen well-heads in the upland marshes • Ry a series of observations it has been ascertained, that on the ave. fore, the coldest day of the year is the 12th of January, or New Year's Day, old style. through the short sun-shine of the winter's day. Birds in cages are now coming into song; and towards the end of the month, the throstle's note may occasionally be heard. But the out-door glory of January is the Frost, whose silent breathings, even in a single night, change our English or Scottish neighbourhood to Lapland or Bussia. What beautiful, though fantastic and grotesque creations! wilder and more lovely in their jew.. elled splendour than all the wonders of eastern enchantment" pearly drops" and "silver plu mage, of which it is the pride of art to make, but the faintest imitation. How resplendent a small glade, rich in tall and straggling plants, when struck with frost! But even the commonest field or hedge row, waxes gorgeous in its winter jewellery. The gemmed, flexile sprays of a single stalk of rye-grass, seem to taste, undebased by sordid associations, worth a prince's ransom. FROST. The Frost looked forth, one still clear night, In silence I'll take my way; I will not go on like that blustering train, But I'll be as busy as they." Then he went to the mountain and powdered its crest, Of the quivering lake he spread He went to the windows of those who slept, By the light of the moon were seen All pictured in silver sheen! This is but the bright view of the heart of winter, a season which aggravates every misery of own. the wretched; and, by the cessation of many kinds of labour, becomes a periodical time of distress in most European countries, and, most of all, in our And ought this to be? It seems a law of nature in these northern climes that all land ani. mals should in winter herd and congregate for mutual aid, and the mitigation of common hardship. The birds fly in flocks, and strange kinds mingle. The very wolves prowl in bands. Among civilized men only, there seems no idea of combin.. ation to ward off evil. Well may the poor of wealthy countries envy the dormant animals their snug winter habitations, and stores of provisions. The wise man in the fable became a philosopher from observing and following the instincts of animals; and that would be a foolish squirrel or marmot, which did not store nuts in a plentiful autumn, or make hay when the sun shone, (as marmots literally do,) and thus provide for itself and those of its household. But the sun of labour has been chill, and its fruits scanty of late years in this land; and though kindness, consideration, charity, alms, are all sorry substitutes for what "should be the rewards of independent labour, and the accumulations of industry, they are at this season to be encouraged, and even enjoined as duties, by every sanction which gives man a claim on man. He must have a hard heart, an imperfect sense of justice, or a dull imagination, who can at this time of the year sit down night after night in the glow of a good fire, without once thinking of the suffering of tens of thou.. sands of his deserving fellow-creatures, from pinching cold alone; and that is but one evil of those that go in clusters. Let one, in these intensely cold nights, conceive the alternative mentally debated by many a poor mother, of laying out her last few pence on coals or on potatoes; probably ending in dividing the fractions of her purse into the lowest possible values by which comforts may be purchased, in a land where coin most amusing of the articles is the following letter from a settler for life in Van Diemen's Land to Mary, at N 45, Mount Street, Grosvenor Square. DEER MARY, Littel did I Think wen I hadvertized in the Tims for annother Plaice of taking wan in Van Demon's Land. But so it his, and hear I am among Kangaroses. and Savidges, and other Forriners. But goverment of or ing to yung wimin to find them vittles, and drink, and close, and husbands, was turms not to be sneazed at. S01 rite to the Outlandish Seckertary, and he was so kind a grant. Wen this coms to hand, go to No. 22 Pimpernel Plo And Mind and go betwext Six and Sevin, For your ow sake; cos then the Fammily's having diner. Give keind love to betty Housmad, and say I am saf of my ney to forrin Parts, and I hope master as never Mist t wine, and brot them into trubble on My acount. But did not like to leav for ever and ever without tretting my Frends and feller servents, and drinking to all there fair wells. In my Flury, wen the bell rang, I forgot to take My own Key out of mysis Tekaddy, but I hope sura had the thought, and it is good hands, but shall be ovd to no. Lickwise, thro my Lowness of Sperrits, my lor Hares quit went out of my Hed as was promist to be a to Gorge, and William, and the too Footmen at the Nort dores. But I hope and trust betty pacified 'em with lox of her hone, as begd to be dune wen I rite from dover. Mary! wen I first see the dover wite cliffs out of wat with Squeemishness, and Felings, I all most reperi givin Ingland warning, And had douts if I was goin better myself. But the Stewerd was verry kind, thể could make him no returns, xcept by Dusting the Ship him, and helpin to wash up his dishes. Ther was moor young wimmin of us, and, By way of passing ou tim, We agreed to tell our Histris of our selves, taken by turns. But they all turned out, Alick! we had all lift ca account of Testacious masters, and Crustacious mississ and becos the wurks was too much for our strenths a betwixt us the reel truths was beeing Flirted with, and unprommist by Perfidious Yung Men. With sich ed money is in use. Such difficulties are, we fear, impls befor there Minds, I wonder sum off them w of more frequent occurrence than those by which they are neighboured, - of whether the lady shall give the preference to the opera-house or the private party, or go to both-and whether she shall wear, in this cold weather, her velvet robes, or those of French silk. There is something-there is much, radically, inhumanly, sinfully wrong in a social system which we dare to call Christian, and which we pretend is rooted in and buttressed by Christian Institutions. BOOKS OF THE MONTH. Commences with a comical proface, in which the author denies his comic decease, which was more than insinuated unprudent enuff to listen to Salers, (whom are core with Pitch, but famus for not stiking to there Wund Has for mee, the Mate chos to be verry Particier wan nite, Setting on a Skane of Rops, but I giv his Anser, and lucky I did, for Am infourmed he hes too more Marred wives in a state of Biggamy The Goodness wan can marry in New Wurlds without s Since I have bean in my Present Sitiation, I have bad ww tween too and three hoffers for My hands, and expex every Day to go to fist-cuffs about Me. This is sumt lick treetin wimmin as Wimmin ougt to be treetid. Nia of your sarsy Buchers and Backers here as brakes pron like pic-crust, wen it is made Lite and shivvry, And laffs in your face, and says they can have any Gal round Square. I don't menshun names, but Eddard as drive As soon as ever by Miss Sheridan. "The lady," he says, "must be content Fancy bred, will no wat I mean. to live and let live;' those who have persisted in throw- Botes rode to Land, I don't agrivate the truth to say the ing the pall over me have neither gained their end nor mine." The cuts, though som cof them are exceedingly clever, are, as a whole, inferior to those of Miss Sheridan's Comic Offering, the literary contents better. Among the was half-a-duzzin Bows a-peace to Hand us out to stor and sum go so Far as say they was offered to thro' Sre he ing Trumpits afore they left the Shipside. Be that May or may Not, I am tould We maid a very pritty 59 all Wauking too and too in our bridle wite gownds, with | ladies," he says, " are imprisoned in stays, and in stays so the Union Jacks afore us, to Pay humbel Respex to Kornel Arther, who behaived verry jentlemanny, and Complementid us on our Hansome apearences, and Purlitely sed he wisht us All in the United States. Servents mite live Long enuff in Lonnon without Being sich persons of Distinkshun. For my hone Part, cumming amung Strangers, and Pig in Pokes, prudence Dicktated not to be askt out. At the verry furst cumming in, howsummever, All is setlid, and the Match is apruved of by Kornel Arther and the Brightish goverment, who as agreed to giv me away. Thems wat I call honners, as we usid to say at wist Of course you and betty will xpect me to indulge in Personalities about my intendid, to tell yew wat he is lick. He is not at All lick Eddard as driv the Fancy bred, and Noboddy else. Yew No I wood send yew his picter, Dun by himself, only it is no more like him than Chork is to Chease. In spite of the short tim for Luv to take shoots, I am convinst he is verry Passionet. As to his temper, I can't speck As yet, as I have not tride it. O mary! litel did I think too Munth ago of sendin yew Brid Cake and Weddin favers. Wen I say this, I am only Figgering in speach, for yow Must Not look for sich things from this Part of the world. I don't mean this by way of discurridgment; Wat I meen to Say is this, If so be as Young Wimmin prefers a state of Silly Bessy, they had Better геmane ware they was Born; but as far as Reel down rite Courting, and no nonsense is concarned, this is the Plaice for my Munny. A Galhas only to cum out hear, and theirs duzzens will jump at her lik Cox at Gusberis. It will be a reel kindness to say as mutch to Hannah at 48, and Hester Brown, and Peggy Oldfield, and partickler poor Charlotte. They needn't Fear about being Plane, for you may tell them in this Land Faces don't make stumblin blox, and if the Hole cargo was as uggly as sin, Lots wood git mar.. ried. His COUNT PECCHIO'S RESIDENCE IN ENGLAND. THE TOUR OF A GERMAN PRINCE set the fashion of this kind of books. Count Pecchio, an Italian political exile, is a very different man, and far inferior writer and observer; but to atone for this, he is a true man. blunders, which are numerous, form the most amusing part of his travels, and show us the mistakes to which all travellers are liable, English as well as Italian. Some of his innocent surprises are not very creditable to the state of manners and morals in his native state of Piedmont. The Count is the most bland and courteous of travellers. He never wearics in expatiating on the beauty of the ladies, the horses, and the children of England. The farmers' daughters ride like the damsels of old romance- the ladies are neatly dressed when they do not expect company-fathers never quarrel with their sons, and babies never cry, nor children over-eat themselves, "Cowper sees every thing of the colour of roses, and Crabbe every thing with a jaundiced eye." The Count, however, intended to be less universal in his praise, and meant to have devoted a chapter "to the eternally-hysterical, to the tyrants of families, and to those mothers who, anxious to dispose of their wares, aspire only to get their daughters once fairly married, whoever the husband, whether an idiot, a baboon, or a worn-out libertine; but he reflected, " and resolved to let every man live in his own way." The Count was astonished to find stays still used in sober, sensible England. "The English stiff that to embrace them is like embracing an oak. They stand as bolt upright in this cuirass, as our mulberry-trees with wooden fences put round them when they are still tender. This cuirass renders them as stiff and unbending as a hedge-stake, while our ladies are soft and flexible as a silken cord." During his exile, the Count, infinitely to his honour, obtained a subsistence by teaching the Italian language. This, and other modes of introduction, threw open several English houses to him; and he gives the in-door picture rather cleverly, both of the gentry who enjoy all the luxury and refinement of the opulent nobility, and of "the better class." His sketch of this class offers a fair and agreeable specimen of a work, which is but the more piquant for its blunders, and cross-readings of English acts and deeds. AN ENGLISH VILLA. I was a visit in debt to a widow-lady, mother of two beautiful girls, through an invitation to dinner I had received. This lady's villa is situated in a delicious spot, at the foot of a hill crowned by an old and noble wood, approached by a winding, gently-sloping path across meadows and plantations within the same enclosure. The house is protected from the wind, and from excessive heat; it is not large, in comparison with the immense and useless Italian palaces, but is sufficiently spacious for an English villa, and enjoys a view of a range of hills, irregular in form, clad with trees, and within the space that can be taken in by the eye. The quiet, the mystery of the neighbouring wood, the song of the birds, the flocks feeding in the meadows, all seem to say, " Here reigns love!" What, then, if I add that the two young ladies of the mansion are beautiful, graceful, and courteous, with rosy cheeks, and copious ringlets of flowing hair "Whose large blue eyes, fair locks, and snowy hands, Almost every day they ride out alone with their groom, on the wretched; and, by the cessation of many kinds BOOKS OF THE MONTH. HOOD'S COMIC ANNUAL most amusing of the arti a settler for life in Van 45, Mount Street, Grosve DEER MARY, Littel did Tims for annother Plai Land. But so it his, ar and Savidges, and othe ing to yung wimin to close, and husbands, w rite to the Outlandish grant. Wen this coms to h And Mind and go be sake; cos then the keind love to betty F ney to forrin Parts, wine, and brot them did not like to leav Frends and feller s wells. In my Flu My own Key out c had the thought, a to no. Lickwise, Hares quit went to Gorge, and Wi dores. But I hop her hone, as beg Mary! wen I f Commences with a comical preface, in which the author denies his comic decease, which was more than insinuated by Miss Sheridan. "The lady," he says, "must be content 'to live and let live;' those who have persisted in throwing the pall over me have neither gained their end nor mine." The cuts, though som cof them are exceedingly clever, are, as a whole, inferior to those of Miss Sheridan's Comic Offering, the literary contents better. Among the wat with Squeen givin Ingland v better myself. could make him him, and helj moor young v tim, We agree turns. But th account of T and becos the betwixt us t unprommist impls befor unprudente with Pitch, Has for 1 wan nite, his Anser, too more Goodness Since I tween to every D lick tre of your like pi laffs in Squar Fancy Botes was and ing T May " our bradle wite gownds, with Fabel Respex to Kornel many, and Complements es and Purlitely sed he Servents mite live Long sch persons of Distinkshun. 1 HP Sang berangers, and Pig in be asht out. At the FAL dandung. 1,1 ما lock by the servant, to tell rs wonder those scoundreis se-tried to sleep again, but oyle in bed. Ten, got up cket called to ask me to ride ay till the President was gone even, rode out. Going down agely going down to St. Mary's: to church for. Twelve to in Green met Careless, and a -engaged them to dine with me. d at the stable-made the fresh -talked to him about horses bout the matter went home and ght, dinner and wine-remarkable Racket's stone-horse for him, to ifty guineas certainly break his a, coffeehouse, and lounged in the r went home to study-afraid he's a hunt to-morrow, and dine with Racbed, and went to bed early, in order to rowed me up at seven o'clock-sleepy forced to get up and make breakfast for ave in the afternoon, hunting-famous ar Bicester-number of tumbles-fresh t's stone-horse-got the devil of a fall in on him but don't know whether he was -Five, dressed, and went to dine with nad crossed his name, and no dinner could the Angel and dined. Famous evening till e proctors came, and told us to go home to went directly the contrary way. - Eleven down into St. Thomas's and fought a raff. gged home by somebody, the Lord knows at to bed. Very bruised and sore-did not get up till ad an imposition upon my table-Mem. to give resser. Did not know what to do with myself; my father for money. Half after one, put on ride for an hour-met Careless at the stable her-asked me to dine with him, and meet Jack no is just returned from Italy. Two to three, home and dressed. Four to seven, dinner and ack very pleasant told good stories-says the vomen have thick legs, no hunting to be got, and le wine-wont go there in a hurry. Seven, went stable, and looked into the coffeehouse-very few n men, and nothing going forwards. Agreed to play at billiards-Walker's table engaged, and forced to the Blue Posts lost ten guineas-thought I could beat him, but the dog has been practising at Spa. supper at Careless's-bought Sedley's mare for thirty eas-thinks he knows nothing of a horse, and believe ave done him-drank a little punch, and went to bed at Ive. Wednesday. Hunted with the Duke of B.-very long n-rode the new mare-found her sinking, so pulled up 1 time, and swore I had a shoe lost to sell her directly -buy no more horses of Sedley-knows more than I thought me did. Four, returned home; and as I was dressing to dine with Sedley, received a note from some country neighbours of my father's to desire me to dine at the Crossobliged to send an excuse to Sedley-wanted to put on my cap and gown-not to be Half after four to ten, & bad, so got up, and to University to be out Thursday. Brea forced to borrow. --Ten, found it too ist the rules of the and walked all the |