The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 19, No. 543, Saturday, April 21, 1832.. Various

but little money in the world, and knows not how to procure more without risking his life and character, must needs put it in the power of fortune to take away what he has. Put the case in the opposite light, it is just as absurd: the man who has money to spare, must needs make the experiment whether it may not become the property of another.

      It is a mistake to suppose a great mind inattentive to trifles: its capacity and comprehension enable it to embrace every thing.

      The failing of vanity extends throughout all classes: the poor have but little time to bestow on their persons, and yet in the selection of their clothes we find they prefer such as are of a flaring and gaudy colour.

      Philosophy has not so much enabled men to overcome their weaknesses, as it has taught the art of concealing them from the world.

      That a little learning is dangerous is one of our surest maxims. If knowledge does not produce the effect of ameliorating our imperfect condition, it were, without question, better let alone altogether; it is not to be made merely an appendix to the mind, but must be incorporated and identified with it.

      They who have experienced sorrow are the most capable of appreciating joy; so, those only who have been sick, feel the full value of health.

      By the expression "common people," is meant the man of rank as well as the more industrious peasant; for in our estimate of men, the mind, and not the eye, is the most proper judge.

      Some men are, of course, more original thinkers than others, but all, without exception, who hope to appear in print with any effect, must first be readers themselves. It was said by Dr. Johnson, that more than half an author's time was occupied in reading what others had said concerning the subject he was himself writing upon.

      Every man, in his more serious moments, must confess that he has done few things in the course of his life he would not wish undone; and experience must have shown him that the things he most feared would have been better ihan those he most prayed for.

      Vanity is our dearest weakness, in more senses than one: a man will sacrifice every thing, and starve out all his other inclinations to keep alive that one.

      The man who trusts entirely to nature when he is sick, runs a great risk; but he who puts himself in the hands of a physician runs a still greater: of the two, nature would seem the better nurse, for she will, at all events, act honestly, and can have no possible interest in tampering with disease.

      A great idea may be thus defined:—it gives us the perception of many others, and it discovers to us all at once what we could only have arrived at by a course of reading or inquiry.

      We are told to place no faith in appearances, yet it will be found a wiser course to judge from the human countenance rather than the human voice: most men place a guard over their words and their actions, but very few can blind the expression that is conveyed by the features.

      To assist our fellow-creatures is the noblest privilege of mortality: it is, in some sort, forestalling the bounty of Providence.

      There is no doubt that memory, although it may be cultivated, is originally a gift of nature; so, also, application must be regarded as a natural endowment; for there are some men, however well disposed, who can never bring themselves to grapple closely with any thing.

      It has been suggested that man has no real necessity for clothing. All other creatures are furnished with every necessary for their existence, and it is improbable one nobler than them all should be left in a defective condition: there are some nations, in severer climates than ours, who have no notion of clothing; and, even in civilized life, the most tender parts of the body are constantly exposed, as the face, neck, &c.

      It is the temper of a blade that must be the proof of a good sword, and not the gilding of the hilt or the richness of the scabbard; so it is not his grandeur and possessions that make a man considerable, but his intrinsic merit.

F.

      THE KNIGHT'S RETURN

FROM THE GERMAN(For the Mirror.)

      "Page, what sound mine ears is greeting,

      Whence the lime-trees wave in pride?"

      "'Tis, sir knight, the herds that bleating,

      Wander o'er the mountain's side."

      "Say, my page, what means this singing?

      Notes so sad, some ill betide;"

      "In the village, crowds are bringing

      From the chapel, home a bride."

      "Say then, why so slowly passes

      Yon dark-rob'd and silent train?"

      "From the saying bridal-masses,

      Monks are coming o'er the plain."

      "Speak then, why I now behold it;

      Whence yon banner's milk-white hue?"

      "Ask no further, they unfold it

      To the bride an honour due."

      "Say, my page, what means that writing

      Graven on yon marble-stone?"

      "'Tis the youth and maiden plighting

      Love to one, and one alone."

      "How, my page, that name the dearest?

      See, and true its meaning tell."

      "Know, and tremble as thou hearest,

      "'Twas for secret love she fell."

      "What! my page, if thus 'tis written,

      If for love she dar'd to die,

      Bertha dead! if thus 'tis written,

      As she perish'd, so will I."

H.

      SCOTCH ECONOMY

(To the Editor.)

      The amusing letter of S.S. in No. 536, of The Mirror, has but so very recently met my eyes, that I have been obliged unavoidably to allow some weeks to elapse ere I noticed it. Indeed, to advert to it at all, I should not have considered necessary, but that your correspondent seems to imply a doubt as to the accuracy of my assertion, in the article "Shavings," (vide No. 533, p. 83.) Permit me, for the satisfaction of your readers to state, that I was no "flying tourist," when the fact of a very considerable waste of fuel in Edinburgh, (fuel which would, I thought, sell in England, if not wanted in Scotland,) came repeatedly, I may say, almost daily, under my own personal observation. A residence of two years in Edinburgh (yes, it certainly was "the Scottish capital," for I had previously resided during a longer period in the Irish one,) enabled me to state what I then beheld, with a scrutiny which certainly would not have been warranted by a mere casual visit of two days, two weeks, or two months; that the circumstance should have irritated S.S. I cannot consider any fault of mine; my statement was correct. The possibility of Irish labourers being employed to build in Scotland, as they are very generally in England, does not seem to have occurred to your correspondent; I confess it did to me, but considered, to mention it in my trifling "Domestic Hint," quite unnecessary, since, had their wastefulness been hitherto unknown to their employers, it might henceforth, if they pleased "to take a hint," be by them materially checked. In days when the complaint of poverty is universal, when the working classes find it difficult to carry on any employment which shall bring them bread, and when thousands wander over the united kingdom with no apparent means of subsistence, I did not imagine that a "Hint," as to a possible source of emolument (were it confined but to half a dozen individuals) to the poor, would be considered a meet subject for ridicule. I said, or intended to say, if shavings and loose chippings of wood are of little value for fuel in Scotland, they are acceptable in England; and why, if the proprietors of new houses choose during their erection, to save the fuel they produce, and of which I repeat I have seen vast quantities burnt, and bestow it as a charity on such persons as might think it worth acceptance for sale, "over the Border;" why they should not do so, I have yet to learn.5 However, waiving this scheme, which S.S. may be inclined to think rather Utopian, and conceding,

5

Footnote 5:

Has Scotland no paupers to whom the gift of wood fuel might prove acceptable, in spite of peat? We have in England abundance of wood, yet our own poor are distressed for it, glad to pick up sticks for firing, and often steal it from fences, &c. in their necessity, and the gift of wood is to them a charity, as well as that of coals. Why should aught that could he made of use, be wantonly destroyed? It is contrary to Scripture; it is in opposition to common sense.