The Engraving represents Loch Goil Head, a small village in
Argyleshire, as it name imports, at the end of Loch Goil. It
is an exquisite vignette, of Alpine sublimity, and is
rendered extremely interesting as the residence of Thomas
Campbell, Esq. author of the "Pleasures of Hope," &c. and
one of the most celebrated of British poets. His
château, or retreat, is represented on the left
of the Engraving, and its romantic position has probably
inspired many of the soul-stirring compositions of the
illustrious resident.
In this parish are the remains of Carrick Castle, which is
said to have been built by the Danes. It stands on a rock,
and was formerly surrounded
The steam-boat on the lake is an attractive object in such a
district as Loch Goil—by associating one of the boasted
triumphs of art with the stupendous grandeur of the sublime.
The town of Hillah lies in latitude 32 deg. 31 min. 18 sec.;
in longitude 12 min. 36 sec. west of Bagdad, and according to
Turkish authorities, was built in the fifth century of the
Hegira, in the district of the Euphrates, which the Arabs
call El-Ared-Babel. Lying on a part of the site of Babylon,
nothing was more likely than that it should be built out of a
few of the fragments of that great city. The town is
pleasantly situated amidst gardens and groves of date trees;
and spreads itself on both sides of the river, where it is
connected by a miserable wooden bridge, the timbers of which
are so rotten, that they tremble under the foot of the
passenger. The portion of the town, or as it is usually
called, the suburb, on the eastern bank, consists of one
principal street or bazaar, reaching from the small
defenceless gate by which it is entered from Bagdad, down to
the edge of the water; this is deemed the least considerable
part of Hillah. On the other side, the inhabitants, Jews,
Turks, and Arabs, are much thicker, and the streets and
bazaars more numerous.
From the great central bazaar, well filled with merchandize,
branch off in various directions minor ranges, amongst which
are found the fish and flesh markets. In the former are
several varieties, and some of enormous size, resembling the
barbel. The fish in question is from 4 to 5 feet long, and is
covered with very large, thick scales. The head is about
one-third part of the length of the fish. They are said to
eat coarse and dry, but are, nevertheless, a favourite food
with the inhabitants; and are caught in great quantities near
the town, and to a considerable distance above it. The flesh
market is sparingly served with meat, for when Sir Robert Ker
Porter visited the town, he states that the whole contents of
the market appeared to be no more than the dismembered
carcasses of two sheep, two goats, and the red, rough
filaments of a buffalo. This display was but scant provision
for a population of 7,000. The streets are narrow like those
of Bagdad; a necessary evil in Eastern climates, to exclude
the power of the sun; but they are even more noisome and
filthy. In like manner also, they are crowded, but not with
so many persons in gay attire. Here are to be seen groups of
dark, grim-looking, half-naked Arabs, sitting idly on the
sides of the streets, and so numerously, as scarcely to leave
room for a single horse to pass; and even a cavalcade in line
will not alarm them, so indifferent are they, even when
travellers are compelled, at some abrupt turn, almost to ride
over them. A few sombre garbed Israelites, and occasionally
the Turks, attendant on official duties of the Pashalic in
this part of the government, also mingle in the passing or
seated crowd; when the solemn, saturnine air of the latter,
with their flowing, gaudy apparel, forms a striking contrast
to the daring, dirty, independent air of the almost
ungarmented, swarthy Arab.
A few paces above the bridge, stands the palace of the
governor, and the citadel, which was built by order of Ali
Pasha. This imposing fortress, externally, is a handsome,
smooth-faced, demi-fortified specimen of modern Turkish
architecture, erected with ancient materials. Within is a
spacious court, partly shaded with date trees. The whole of
the town towards the desert is defended by a pretty deep
ditch, overlooked by a proportionate number of brick-built
towers (all the spoil of Babylon) flanking the intermediate
compartments of wall. In this rampart are three gates.
As far as the eye can reach, both up and down the river, the
banks are thickly shaded with groves of dates, displacing, it
should seem, the other species of trees, from which Isaiah
names this scene "the Brook or Valley of Willows," although
the humble races of that graceful tribe, in the osier,
&c. are yet the prolific offspring of its shores.
(For the Mirror.)
Hollingshed, who was contemporary with Queen Elizabeth,
informs us, "there were very few chimneys (in England in his
time) even in the capital towns; the fire was laid to the
wall, and the smoke issued out at the roof, or door, or
window. The houses were wattled, and plastered over with
clay, and all the furniture and utensils were of wood. The
people slept on straw pallets, with a log of wood for a
pillow."
Cambrensis, Bishop of St. David's, says, "It was the common
vice of the English, from their first settlement in Britain,
to expose their children and relations to sale;" and it also
appears, "that the wife of Earl Godwin, who was sister to
Canute, the Danish King of England, made great gain by the
trade she made of buying up English youths and maids to sell
to Denmark."
Lord Bacon in his Apophthegms, says,
"Ethelwold, Bishop of Winchester, in a famine,
sold all the rich vessels and ornaments of the church, to
relieve the poor with bread; and said, 'There was no reason
that the dead temples of God should be sumptuously furnished,
and the living temples suffer penury.'" Ingulphus tells us,
"For want of parchment to draw the deeds upon, great estates
were frequently conveyed from one family to another, only by
the ceremony of a turf and a stone, delivered before
witnesses, and without any written agreement." Andrews, in
his History of Great Britain, says, "In France, A.D. 1147,
the great vassals emulated and even surpassed the sovereign
in pomp and cost of living." As an instance of the wild
liberality of the age, we are informed, that Henry the
"munificent" Count of Champagne, being applied to by a poor
gentleman for a portion to enable him to marry his two
daughters: his steward remonstrated to him, "that he had
given away every thing," "thou liest," said Henry, "I
have thee left;" so he delivered over the steward to
the petitioner, who put him into confinement until he gave
him 500 livres, a handsome sum in those days.
Bede tells us, "Archbishop Theodore, when (in the seventh
century) he gave lectures on medicine at Canterbury,
remonstrated against bleeding on the 4th day of the moon,
since at that period (he said) the light of the planet and
the tides of the ocean were on the increase." Yet Theodore
was, for his era, deeply learned.
William of Malmsbury says, "Very highly finished works in
gold and silver, were the produce even of our darkest ages.
The monks were the best artists. A jewel, now in the museum
at Oxford, undoubtedly made by command of, and worn by Alfred
the Great, is an existing witness of the height to which the
art was carried. Curious reliquaries, finely wrought and set
with precious stones, were usually styled throughout Europe,
Opera Anglica."
Howel tells us, "In the education of their children, the
Anglo-Saxons only sought to render them dauntless and apt for
the two most important occupations of their future
lives—war and the chase. It was a usual trial of a
child's courage, to place him on the sloping roof of a
building, and if, without screaming or terror, he held fast,
he was styled a stout-herce, or brave boy."
Fitz-Stephen says, "Thomas à Becket lived in such
splendour, that besides having silver bits to his horses, he
had such numerous guests at his banquets, that he was obliged
to have rooms covered with clean hay or straw, in winter, and
green boughs or rushes in summer, every day, lest his guests,
not finding seats at his tables, should soil their gay
clothes by sitting on the floor." He would pay five pounds
(equal nearly to fifty pounds of our money) for a single dish
of eels. Once riding through London with Henry, the King
seeing a wretched, shivering beggar, "It would be a good deed
(said he) to give that poor wretch a coat." "True, (said
Becket.) and you, sir, may let him have yours." "He shall
have yours" said Henry, and after a heavy scuffle, in
which they had nearly dismounted each other, Becket proved
the weakest, and his coat was allotted to the astonished
mendicant.
"When William the Conqueror was crowned at Westminster, the
people (says Andrews) within the Abbey shouted, on the crown
being placed on his head, the Normans without, thought the
noise a signal of revolt, and began to set fire to houses,
and massacre the populace, nor were they satisfied that all
was well until considerable mischief had been done."
"Dr. Henry, (says Sulivan) who has made a very full
collection of the facts mentioned by ancient authors,
concerning the provincial government of Britain, supposes its
annual revenue amounted to no less than two millions
sterling; a sum nearly as great as that which was derived
from Egypt, in the time of the father of Cleopatra. But this
calculation is built upon the authority of Lipsius. Nor are
there perhaps any accounts transmitted by historians, from
which the point can be accurately determined. The Britons
excelled in agriculture. They exported great quantities of
corn, for supplying the armies in other parts of the empire.
They had linen and woollen manufactures; as their mines of
lead and tin were inexhaustible. And further we know, that
Britain, in consequence of her supposed resources, was
sometimes reduced to such distress, by the demands of
government, as to be obliged to borrow money at an exorbitant
interest. In this trade, the best citizens of Rome were not
ashamed to engage; and, though prohibited by law, Seneca,
whose philosophy, it seems, was not incompatible with the
love of money, lent the Britons at one time above three
hundred and twenty thousand pounds."
Abridged from Mr. Richards's Treatise on Nervous
Disorders.
Without any intention of advocating the doctrine, or of
commending the reputed practice of the Pythagoreans, ancient
or modern, I must be allowed to reprobate the abuse of
fermented liquors. Although wine was invented, and its use
allowed "to make glad the heart of man," and although a
moderate and prudent indulgence in it can never excite
reprobation, or cause mischief, still the sin of drunkenness
is an extensive and a filthy evil. Not only does it
demoralize, debase, and finally destroy its unhappy victim,
but it renders him incapable of performing the ordinary
duties of his station; constituting him an object of disgust
to others, and of pitiable misery to himself. It is well to
talk of the Bacchanalian orgies of talented men, and to call
them hilarity and glee. The flashes of wit "that were wont to
set the table in a roar;" the brilliancy of genius, that
casts a charm even over folly and vice; the rank and fame of
the individual, no doubt, increased the fascination of his
failings; but however bright and wonderful may be the
coruscations of his talent, while under the influence of
wine, his frame is debilitated, tottering, and imbecile, when
the stimulus of the potation has subsided.
But I do not proscribe indiscriminately all stimulus. Those
whose occupations are laborious, and who are much exposed to
our variable climate, require an absolute stimulus, over and
above what they eat. Dr. Franklin advocated a contrary
doctrine, and inculcated the fact, that a twopenny loaf was
much better for a man than a quart of beer; and he adduces
the horse and other beasts of burthen as examples of the
inefficacy of the use of fermented liquors. But all this is
founded upon decidedly erroneous premises. To enable a
hard-working horse to go through his toil with spirit, he
must have corn, or some other article subject to
fermentation. Now, the horse, as well as many other animals,
have stomachs very capacious, and probably adapted to the
production of this fermentation. So that corn is, in fact, a
powerful fermented stimulus to the beast.
Let us then assume, that stimulus in a certain degree is
necessary to sustain the strength and invigorate the frame of
the toiling man; and the best proof of its good effect is the
comfort and energy which it imparts to its consumer; but if
this necessary stimulus be exceeded, then it is abused, and
every mouthful in addition becomes ultimately poisonous. The
first effect which is produced is upon the internal coat of
the stomach, as we may learn from the warmth which we feel.
The repetition increases the circulation of the blood, which
seems, as it were, to dance through the veins; the pulse
becomes quick and full, the eyes sparkle, and the imagination
is quickened; in short, the whole frame is excited, as is
evinced by every word, look, and action. If the affair end
here, well and good; but we will suppose that the potation
goes on, and very speedily a new effect is produced. The
brain, oppressed by the load of blood thrown up into it, and
irritated through its quick sympathy with the stomach;
oppressed, also, by the powerful pulsation of the larger
arteries about the head, becomes, in a degree, paralyzed. The
tongue moves with difficulty, and loses the power of distinct
articulation; the limbs become enfeebled and unsteady; the
mind is deranged, being either worked up into fury, or
reduced to ridiculous puerility, and if the stimulus be
pushed farther than this, absolute insensibility ensues. Such
is a brief view of the physical progress of a debauch; and it
is needless to point out the effect of all this mischief upon
the frame which is subjected to it.1
Although we have thus seen that fermented liquors, if taken
to excess, become pernicious in their effect, we must not
condemn their use, because their abuse is bad.
Why should we act and feel as if this bountiful world,
brilliant in beauty and overflowing with blessings, was a
collection of steel traps and spring guns, set to catch the
body and shoot the soul? Is it not much better and wiser to
avail ourselves of the many blessings which Providence has
placed before us, than to set ourselves to work to detect
poison in our drink, and God knows what in our meat? It
savours of learning, doubtless, to do all this; but cui
bono? where is the real utility which it produces?
Our grandfathers and their progenitors were well convinced
that a good cup of "sherris-sack" comforted the heart, and
aided digestion; and why the same opinion should not govern
us, I must leave to the dieteticians to decide.
The moderate use of wine and of malt liquors is exceedingly
grateful to our feelings, and abundantly beneficial to our
constitution; but ardent spirits are found to be so
pernicious to most constitutions, and especially to those: of
the inhabitants of crowded towns and
cities, that, excepting under peculiar circumstances, it is
better to discard them altogether. A glass or two of good
wine can never do any harm; neither can a cup of good,
genuine, "humming ale." The chemists tell us that the London
ale is a horrid and narcotic compound; and so, in truth, by
far the largest portion of it is. But there are two or three
honest men in the metropolis, who sell genuine Kennet,
Nottingham, and Scotch ales, from whom it is very easy to
procure it quite pure. If, however, malt liquor does not
agree with the stomach, or what is the same thing, is
supposed not to agree, it is a very easy matter to
substitute wine for it.
A word or two, here, with regard to genuine ale. Half
of what is sold under the name of Scotch, Kennet, &c. is
manufactured at Bromley, or elsewhere, according to
prescriptions adapted to the peculiarities of each kind.
This, perhaps, is nothing very enormous; but the publicans
"doctor" their beer, after it has left the brewhouse,
in a manner that calls loudly for reprehension. Salt of
tartar, carbonate of soda, oil of vitriol, and green copperas
(sulphate of iron) are some of the articles in common use;
and knowing this to be the case, it is really a matter of
importance to know where good, pure beer is to be obtained.
The best Kennet ale is to be had at Sherwood's, in Vine
Street, Piccadilly, or at Chapman's, in Wardour Street; both
these dealers have it direct from Butler's, at Kennet, and a
very superior article it is. Nottingham ale may be procured
in casks at Sansom's, in Dean Street, Red Lion Square; and
the best Scotch ale in London, whether in draught or bottle,
is at Normington's, in Warren Street, Fitzroy Square.