On he comes into possession of on attaining his majority. Again of the hero : "All things seemed to smile around him; and although the lilacs and the laurels, the laburnums and the privets, which tenanted the square before his eyes, might look somewhat dull and smoky, when compared with the green trees of the country; though the air he breathed might seem but a shade thinner than pea-soup, and the noise of eternal carriages might strike his ear as something less tuneful than the birds of his own fields; yet it was not upon these things that his mind rested. He thought, on the contrary, of all the wonders of that mighty place, of the vast resources comprised within it; of the intellectual pleasures that were collected as if in a storehouse; of the magnificent monuments of art that it contained; of the wealth, the abundance, the splendour, the beauty, the fancy, the genius, the wisdom, the grace, with which every street was thronged; of the vast and strange combinations that were produced; of the laws, the systems, the philosophies, the wars, the colonies, the enterprises, that had thence issued forth; of the piety, the charity, the benevolence, the great aspirations, the noble purposes, the fine designs, the wonderful discoveries, which had there originated; and as if to give the finishing touch of the sublime to all-came over his mind, the vague, spectrelike image of the crime which had there a permanent existence, an unchangeable and undiscoverable home." We shall not anticipate the interest of the story by revealing the dénouement; but, suffice it to say, it is at once striking and not improbable. With these appliances, we think Morley Ernstein must become a favourite beyond the usual novel-reading circle: it has the interest of the novel of the old school, and the attractiveness of the new one, without the objectionable coarseness of either. It is not a book to be smuggled from the circulating library, or read by stealth; precautions which the higher colouring already hinted at might have rendered prudent, if not indispensable. THE ENVIRONS OF LONDON. BY JOHN FISHER We resume our notice of this work, reluctantly on the one hand, and cheerfully on the other: the first from our unwillingness to tire the reader with criticism on a most unequal production, and the second from our anxiety to point out one or two redeeming pages in the part before us. The route is Kensington, Brompton, Richmond, Petersham, Ham, and Twickenham--the sequitur, Addison, John Hunter, Thomson, Collins, Kean, and Pope; of whom are given lengthened and occasionally commonplace biographies, with threadbare quotations-such as should not form the staple of a topographical work of this literary biography there are no fewer than thirty-seven out of the sixty-four pages in this part. The explanation of the Richmond Park dispute is more germane to the work. The gem we are about to quote is a grateful tribute to the memory of the late Lord Holland, by a friend of Mr. Murray. Speaking of Holland House, the writer eloquently, and we fear prophetically, says: mottoes. "Yet a few years, and the shades and structures may follow and gigantic as it is, still continues to grow, as a young town their illustrious masters. The wonderful city, which ancient of logwood by a water-privilege in Michigan, may soon dismuch that is interesting and noble; with the courtly magniplace those turrets and gardens which are associated with so ficence of Rich, with the loves of Ormond, with the counsels of Cromwell, with the death of Addison. The time is coming, ration, will seek in vain, amid new streets and squares, and when perhaps a few old men, the last survivors of our generailway stations, for the site of that dwelling, which in their youth was the favourite resort of wits and beauties, of painters and poets, of scholars, philosophers, and statesmen; they will remember with strange tenderness, many objects familiar to them-the avenue and terrace, the busts and the paintings, the carving, the grotesque gilding, and the enigmatical With peculiar tenderness, they will recal that venerable chamber, in which all the antique gravity of a college library was so singularly blended with all that female grace and wit could devise to embellish a drawing-room. They will recollect, not unmoved, those shelves loaded with the varied learning of many lands and many ages; those portraits, in which were preserved the features of the best and wisest Englishmen of two generations: they will recollect how many men, who have guided the politics of Europe, who have moved great assemblies by reason and eloquence, who have put life into bronze or canvas, or who have left to posterity things so written that it will not willingly let them die, were there mixed with all that is loveliest and gayest in the society of the most splendid of capitals. They will remember the singular character which belonged to that circle, in which every talent and accomplishment, every art and science, had its place. They will remember how the last debate was discussed in one corner, and the last comedy of Scribe in another; while Wilkie gazed with modest admiration on Reynolds's Baretti; while Mackintosh turned over Thomas Aquinas to verify a quotation; while Talleyrand related his conversation with Barras, at the Luxembourg, or his ride with Launes, over the field of Austerlitz. They will remember, above all, the grace, and the kindness far more admirable than grace, with which the princely hospitality of that ancient mansion was dispensed; they will remember the venerable and benignant countenance and the cordial voice of him who bade them welcome; they will remember that temper, which years of sickness, of lameness, of confinement, seemed only to make sweeter and sweeter; and that frank politeness, which at once relieved all the embarrassment of the youngest and most timid writer or artist, who found himself for the first time among ambassadors and earls. They will remember, that, in the last times which he traced, he expressed his joy that he had done nothing unworthy of the friend of Fox and Grey; and they will have reason to feel similar joy, if, in looking back on many troubled years, they cannot accuse themselves of having done anything unworthy of men who were distinguished by the friendship of Lord Holland." This is truthful eloquence! Barieties. Home Education.-The following note was received a few days since by a school-mistress from the mother of one of her pupils: " Mrs. W's compliments to Mrs. B. and is not offendid with aney thing, but am agoing to teach Emely my self until she is old enough to write as Mr. W thinks I mite as wul haveing bim used to to teach three little girls be fore i was Marid he says shurley i can learn my hone as i have nothing to attent to but my hone family."-(True copy.) Branding Deserters.-An instrument has recently been invented for marking deserters: it is of brass, shaped at the end into the form of a D, from the outline of which is protru. ded, by means of a spring, a series of needle points, which are regulated by a screw at the end, and by turning which, their length may be increased or diminished. By pulling back the nut of the screw, after the points are regulated, they recede into the box, when the instrument may be considered charged. A slight pressure on a small brass lever delivers the needle points, inflicting a puncture on the skin the exact shape of the instrument. These punctures on being rubbed with a marking fluid, composed of a quarter of a pound of pulverised indigo, two sticks of Indian ink, and enough water to render it liquid, leave an indelible D upon the hand or arm of the deserter; and there is no possible means by which the marking can be accomplished with less pain and more certainty.-United Service Museum. Wilkie.-Mr. Barrow, when journeying from Limerick to Killarney, fell in with a mounted beggar. The poor fellow had lost both legs, and he held a paper in his hand, on which was a portrait of himself, sketched in an artist-like manner, and in the corner the name of Wilkie. Mr. Barrow asked him if he would sell it. He said, "No, Sir; it has been a fortunate picture for me, as gentlemen on seeing it, very kindly give me something;" one, he said, had offered him five guineas for it, but he thought it would bring him a great deal more, as gentlemen all seemed to like Mr. Wilkie's name. Beer, a city of Mesopotamia, stands upon a mountain full of excavations, which are fitted up as iuns for travellers; so that the place may not be inappropriately named. The Turkish festival of the Baïram nearly answers to the Easter of the Greek church. It is remarkable that the Turks eat lamb during this season. On the first Friday of the festival, the sultan goes in immense state, and amidst the thundering of cannon from the ships and forts, to mosque. The Baïram lasts for forty days, and is a season of rejoicing and indulgence, after the privations of Lent or Ramazan, both of Turk and Greek. It is amusing to see the Greeks during this festival, wrestling, boxing, pitching the bar, and throwing the pallum, in the manner of the ancients. Then the supple Greek wrestler oils his limbs and rolls himself in the sand, and the player at the pallum guards his hands with a piece of leather; and the boxer continues to wield the cestus, and to inflict dreadful blows upon his adversary, whose face yields token of the cutting edge of the metal glove. The Turks have forbidden the use of the cestus, but it still continues in vogue. -Frankland's Travels. Epicurism.- Enjoyment is the great business of existence with the Viennese, from the noble to the working-man. A fine fat capon from the fertile valleys of Styria, and a flask of genuine Hungarian wine, are more acceptable than the most liberal constitution; and a Bohemian pheasant, garnished with sauerkraut and salmi di Milano, more palatable than the production of the most able pen. No where are the good things of this life found in greater abundance than at Vienna: the environs teem with luxuries; Hungary, only a few miles distant, furnishes excellent wines; Grätz, in Styria, sends armies of capons; Würtemberg and Bavaria, myriads of fat snails; Trieste transports sea-fish in ice across the Alps ; while the Danube supplies plenty of fresh-water fish. | Bristolians.-The charge of dulness, which it seems was once preferred against the city of Bristol, is now completely wiped off; since, in science, Dr. Beddoes, a native of Shiffinal, in Salop, established here that Institution which called forth the talents of his pupil Sir Humphry Davy, originally from Penzance; and in poetry, Chatterton, Southey, and Coleridge, were natives of Bristol. Despotism favourable to Literature.-Quality, not quantity of writing, enhances the value of composition, and fixes the literary rank of the nation from which it emanates. In England, France, and Germany, the daily presses teem with the crude offsprings of the heated brain, and the effusions of party-spirit; and the tables groan with the weight of political and religious controversies usque ad nauseam. Perhaps, at this moment, Italy, where no one writes but under the rod of despotism, produces the most useful works: the learned in that country dedicate themselves to the labours of science, the fine arts, and antiquities; the more easy and trifling trade of politicians is scarcely known, or punished if exercised. We find this curious position in a work by the late Mr. Frank Hall Standish, who, however, was a liberal. Schabzieger cheese is principally made at Linthal, in the canton of Glarus. The peasants, who feed their cows in the mountains, bring down the curd in sacks, each containing about 200 lbs., and for which they receive 36 francs French. The herb, (klé) which gives the green colour, and its peculiar flavour, having been previously dried and crushed to powder, about 6 lb. of it is put into the mill, with 200 lb. of the curd; and, after being turned for about two hours and a half, the mixture is put into shapes, where it is kept until it dries sufficiently for use. When sold wholesale, it fetches about 31d. per lb. This is found to be a very lucrative trade; and the richest people in the canton are the cheese manufacturers. It is a common belief in England, that Schabzieger cheese is made from goats' milk; but this is quite a mistake. The foundation of this cheese is in no respect different from that of English cheese; its peculiar character is owing merely to its conjunction with the herb, and to its being kept till it is fit for grating.-Inglis. The Difference." You and I are much alike,” said the beggar to the banker. "How so?" "We both contrive to live on the labour of others." "But I carry on a lawful business for a living," said the banker. "So do I," said the beggar, "but there is this difference: I get the property of others with their consent-you get their property without their consent." To make Names Grow in Fruit.-When peaches and nectarines are about half ripe, cover the side exposed to the sun with strips or specks of wax, in any desired shape or form, which hinders the sun from colouring the part covered; and, when the fruit is ripe, and the wax removed, it will be found marked in the manner described. Honesty.-At a party lately, several gentlemen contested the honour of having done the most extraordinary thing. A reverend D. D. was appointed to be the sole judge of their respective pretensions. One produced his tailor's bill with a receipt attached to it; a buzz went through the room that this would not be outdone, when a second proved that he had arrested his tailor for money lent to him. The palm is his! was the universal cry; when a third observed, "Gentlemen, I cannot boast of the feats of either of my predecessors, but I have returned to the owners two umbrellas that they left at my house." "I'll hear no more," cried the arbitrator," this is the very ne plus ultra of honesty and unheard-of deeds; it is an act of virtue of which I never knew any person capable. The prize is yours." Absence of Mind.-Absence of mind appears to be gaining ground all over the country. A young married woman the other day threw her infant into the cooking-store, while she very affectionately nursed a leg of mutton. London: Published for the Proprietors, by W. BRITTAIN, Paternoster Rowo. Edinburgh : JOHN MENZIES. Glasgow: D. BRYCE. Printed by J. Rider, 14, Bartholomew Close, London. LONDON SATURDAY JOURNAL. CONDUCTED BY JOHN TIMBS, THIRTEEN YEARS EDITOR OF "THE MIRROR," AND "I.ITERARY WORLD." exclusively devoted to those who let furnished lodgings. The number of persons in London, who earn a livelihood by this means, is incredibly great; I have heard the number computed at 30,000; but as the number of houses altogether does not exceed 250,000, I am inclined to think that this must be an exaggeration. My impression is that 20,000 would be nearer the mark. The majority of lodging-house keepers are persons who have seen better days. It is a calling to which they have resorted when other means of earning a subsistence for themselves and those dependent upon them have wholly failed. The price of lodgings varies, of course, in London and everywhere else, with the respectability of the neighbourhood. The lodgings, for example, which, in St. James's Street, or any other fashionable locality, would bring from four to five guineas a week, would not in the East End bring more than twenty-five or twenty-eight shillings. I have known four guineas per week paid for two rooms in a street leading off Piccadilly, which were inferior to lodgings let in Lambeth for one guinea. In nothing does the general remark apply with greater truth than in the value of lodgings," Situation is everything." STRAWBERRY HILL. "HAVE you been to Strawberry Hill?" was the universal question two months since; now, the postulate is changed to, "Have you not been to Strawberry?" - such has been the curiosity about the breaking up of this "pictorial and historical abode" of the Earl of Waldegrave's great ancestor, Horace Walpole, Earl of Orford. On one of the burning hot days of last April, towards the close of the "public view," we started for Strawberry, with a single intelligent friend, the proper quota of society for the occasion; seeing that to be the fuglenan and oracle of 250 quarto pages of catalogue was no very desirable post. Without a settled plan, like the patriots of other days, we were "open to all parties," and so thought the Jehus of Piccadilly; but we were "influenced by none." Half-a-crown to Strawberry Hill!-why, the extra sixpence had nearly turned our milk of human kindness; so, we resolved to thwart the omnibusocracy: every one who appeared on the trottoir, catalogue in hand, was beset by these half-crown hornets, who appeared to think that Twickenham had been removed from Richmond and Kew Bridge for their "class interests." In the spirit of John Bullism, we resolved to escape the sixpenny imposition, and so, got to Kew Bridge for a "shabby shilling." Kew is a right royal village, and has the neatest green near the metropolis. Here are held no elections or public meetings to trample its trim turf, and settle the fate of the nation in the same movement: even the dead sleep in safety in the church-yard, without the customary protection of iron railings, and the whole place seems hedged in by the divinity of royalty and of genius. Passing the castern end of the church-yard, we caught a glimpse of the tomb of Zoffany, whom Mr. John Fisher Murray has not thought fit to notice in his Environs of London, though he devoted two pages and a half to Gainsborough. The freshness of the brick-work reminded us of the kind-hearted William the Fourth, mainly at whose expense the church was enlarged a few years since; and the monarch could scarcely have left a more fitting legacy to his native vil lage: it will be remembered long after the great events of his brief reign shall be forgotten. Kew-foot Lane is an almost interminable dead flat, and there was no escape from its unsightly brick wall, for the royal pleasure-grounds were not open: the door is unlocked at Midsummer, as punctually as the citizens formerly lit their first parlourfire on Lord Mayor's Day. A few well-filled equipages and several pedestrians passed us; they all carried "the catalogue," and appeared as zealous as any pilgrims to Mecca, though a gentleman sweltering in a white Macintosh must have wished Walpole's villa had possessed a Loretto-like ubiquity, and been lifted into London for his special convenience; and with all his toil and trouble, we caught him cooling himself in the pathway of Richmond Bridge. At the tavern-porticoes the waiters stood in expectant groups of as many "candidates for orders" as in an university town. The stream of traffic now thickened on the bridge, as we looked wistfully into the clear stream beneath it, welling forth away, like man's own existence. The dust rose in clouds, and not for the first time, we reflected how people in carriages and on horseback are lifted above such annoyance, having provoked which, they seem The lodging-house keeper is ingenious in letting her apartments. You see the intimation in the windowFurnished Apartments to Let." You knock or ring, or perhaps, determined that there shall be no mistake about "Missus's" prompt presentation of herself, you do both. She has a quick ear for a double knock, especially when she has untenanted apartments on hand. The sound of the knock has scarcely died away, before the door is opened, and there she stands confessed as the mistress of the house. You inquire the rent. She knows better than to answer your question. She evades it by asking another -"Will you walk up, Sir, and see the apartments ?" If you do, you place yourself in imminent peril-imminent peril, I mean, of being "taken in," by being saddled with the lodgings whether you like them or not, and however unsuitable the rent may be to the state of your finances. None but those who have had to go in quest of "Furnished Apartments," can have the remotest conception of the eloquence of the lodging-house keeper, when praising her accommodation. There are no lodgings like hers. If it were but known, supposing it to be the case, that she meant to leave the house, a hundred applications would be made for it before she could hold up her little finger. She runs over a list of former lodgers, who were so pleased with her apartments, and so delighted with the attention paid to them, that they remained with her for countless years; and not the least extraordinary part of it is, that not one of them left to go to other lodgings. They all either quitted the country, or were foolish enough to run their necks into the matrimonial halter; for she has a decided dislike to any of them marrying, unless it be to her own daughter. Of course she is silent as to the thousands-Oh! no, we never mention them"-who quitted her lodgings after a fortnight's experience of herself and her apartments. If you say a room is close, she protests and will persuade you in spite of yourself, that it is the airiest in the world. If you hint that it is dark, there is not a better lighted apartment in London. If you see a bevy of children disporting themselves around you, and delicately intimate that you are partial to quiet-to leave the poor pedestrian to grope his way through as he ness, her children are the best bred and mildest children on earth, even should they happen to be squalling like wild cats, and tearing out each other's eyes in your very presence. best can. Another lesson this of life, which all who walk, ride, or run, may read. Onward we pressed, as more than one mounted pilgrim seemed to say, "two to one upon the white Macintosh," who must have wished its caoutchouc back again in the wilds of Guiana; for no pilgrims or peas were ever hotter than this worshipper of Walpoliana. Alack! what a crinkum-crankum road is that to Twicken ham! with few means of escape into the fields, so bordered is it with cottages, villas, and brick wall. The little town was almost blocked up with carriages, and reminded one of a race-day at Epsom, with its swarm of grooms, footmen, and ostlers. And here, strangely jumbled with the pride of life, we found the pomp of death-undertakers dismantling a hearse that had just delivered its precious freight to kindred clay. But the town itself seemed alive, or rather, it was well stocked with the staple of existence, for even the bakers' shops were better stocked than usual, and the fishmongers' denoted " company." Still, poor old Twickenham seemed as if about to be pulled to pieces; for here a house was partly taken down, and there the auction-bills on the wall foreboded a similar fate. THE NIGHT-BLOWING STOCK. BY MRS. H. W. RICHTER. PALE flower! that to the stars and dewy hours BYZANTINE ARCHITECTURE. BY GEORGE GODWIN, JUN., ESQ., F.R.S., F.S.A., &c. THE history of that style of architecture which grew up in Byzantium, after the removal of the seat of empire from Rome by Constantine, is yet to be written. The extent to which it influenced the architecture of Germany, France, and England, was, until lately, very imperfectly estimated, and even now is not sufficiently so. The materials for such a work, which is unquestionably a desideratum, are neither few nor slight. Eusebius describes minutely many of the buildings erected by Constantine and his mother, as does Procopius even more fully those built by Justinian.t Spon and other old travellers give descriptions of many of these edifices, which now no longer remain; and Hope, Mr. Gally Knight, M. Albert Lenoir, and M. Mallay, have each proceeded a considerable way in elucidating the subject. M. Lenoir, especially, in his architectural course, delivered at the Bibliothèque Royale, Paris, in 1838, and since published in the "Revue Générale de l'Architecture," has ably sketched out the work required.¶ It seems quite clear that Constantinople was the great me- De Edificiis Domini Justiniani. Normans in Sicily, chap. xxi. Liber Essai sur les Eglises Romano-Byzantines du departement du Puy-de-Dome. ¶ Mr Willis, in his work on the "Architecture of the Middle Ages," has made some valuable observations bearing on the subject. Dr. Möller's book, Memorials of German Gothic Architecture," translated by Mr. Leeds, should also be referred to. tions were to be found in the new city. They were accordingly sent for to all parts of the empire, and served to diffuse and make general the style of art there in use. Works in mosaic, if not originated by the Constantinopolitans, were made so entirely their own as to become invariably termed opus Græcum, and Bysanteum artificium; and stained glass, to great perfection. The buildings erected by Constantine fresco painting, and other decorations, were brought by them were coated with marble, and the cupolas by which they were covered were plated with gold. The earliest buildings were circular, octagonal, or polygonic. Afterwards the exterior became a square, although the internal plan remained a circle or octagon. In Sta. Sophia, built by Justinian, in the erection of which ten thousand men were employed, the internal plan became a cross of four equal sides, known as the Greek cross, and this building was for a long time the model on which other structures were founded.§ Elongated cupolas, superimposed tiers of small arcades, columns in recesses, larger arches, or circular-headed openings containing within them two or more smaller arches, and plain square or basketworked capitals to the columns, are some of the details that were then introduced. "In this new shape," says a French writer, (M. Vitet,)" which in truth causes the exclusive admirers of antique purity to shudder, but nevertheless is entitled to the more indulgent praise of the true lovers of the beautiful, the genius of the old Greek architects awakened; less correct, less severe than before, but brilliant with youth and life-more daring, more marvellous. For the second time the Greeks seized dominion over the grand and beautiful art of architecture: it was from them the Arabs received the secret of it; it was by them that its first lessons were imparted to all Europe." It is somewhat curious to find that Theodoric, king of the Goths, was educated at Constantinople, and ever retained a love of the arts he had there seen practised. Ravenna, which was the seat of the Gothic court, vied in magnificence with Rome; and here we find many admirable structures both then and in after times. To ascribe this style of architecture and all that it led to, to the Goths, as some Italian and other writers have done, seems absurd, and has long ago * Gibbon gives a lively description of the magnificence of Constantinople. He says, "Some estimate may be formed of the expense bestowed with imperial liberality on the foundation of Constantinople, by the allowance of about £2,500,000 for the construction of the walls, the porticos, and the aqueducts. Condinus Antiquit. Const. p. 11. The forests that overshadowed the shores of the Euxine, and the celebrated quarries of white marble in the little island of Proconnesus, supplied an almost inexhaustible stock of materials, ready to be conveyed by the convenience of a short water-carriage to the harbour of Byzantium." Elsewhere he continues, “A particular description, composed about a century after the foundation of the city, enumerates a capitol or school of learning, a circus, 2 theatres, 8 public and 153 private baths, 52 porticos, 5 granaries, 8 aqueducts or reservoirs of water, 4 spacious halls for the meetings of the senate or courts of justice, 14 churches, 14 palaces, and 4,388 houses, which, for their size or beauty, deserved to be distinguished from the multitude of plebeian habitations." Too much haste, however, led to too early decay. An early instance of the use of inlaid work seems pointed out in the description of the palace of Ahasuerus (Book of Esther, ch. i. v. 6, ascribed to the year 521 before Christ), where a pavement is mentioned" of red, and blue, and white, and black marble." Cumque templum omne in immensam altitudinem extulisset, vario lapidum genere splendidum reddidit, à solo ad cameram usque marmoreis crustis illud operiens. Porro cameram lacunaribus minutissime operis obducens, totam auro imbracteavit" Eusebius ut supra, "De constructione martyrii apostolorum Constantinopoli." § St. Mark at Venice, built by a Greek architect, was one of its offspring, as was the Basilica at Pisa, also by a Greek architect. Russell's Hist. of Modern Europe, vol. i. |