fall, at length, into a state of fatuity, and die with the powers both of body and mind wholly exhausted. Some, after repeated fits of derangement, expire in a sudden and violent phrenzy; some are hurried out the world by apoplexies; others perish by the slower process of jaundice, dropsy," &c.
P.T.W.
A SCENE ON WINDERMERE
"Beautiful scene! how fitted to allure
The printless footsteps of some sea-born maid."
It was a holy calm—the sunbeams tinged
The lake with gold, and flush'd the gorgeous brow
Of many a cloud whose image shone beneath
The blue translucent wave; the mountain-peaks
Were robed in purple, and the balmy air
Derived its fragrance from the breath of flow'rs
That seem'd as if they wish'd to close their eyes,
And yield their empire to the starry throng.
The wind, as o'er the lake it gently died,
Bequeath'd its cadence to the shore, and waked
The echo slumbering in the distant vales,
Diversified with woods, and rural homes.
The calm was lovely! and o'er such a scene
It brooded like a spirit, softening all
That lay beneath its blessed influence!
On Windermere—what poetry belongs
To such a name—deep, pure and beautiful,
As its trout-peopled wave!—on Windermere
Our skiff pursued its way amid the calm
Which fill'd the heart with holiest communings.
On Windermere—what scenes entranced the eye
That wander'd o'er them! either undefined
Or traced upon the outline of the sky.
Afar the lovely panorama glow'd,
Until the mountains, on whose purple brows
The clouds were pillow' d, closed it from our view.
The fields were fraught with bloom, on them appear'd
The verdant robe that Nature loves to wear,
And rocky pathways fringed with bristling pine,
O'er which the wall of many a cottage-home
Graced with the climbing vine, or beautified
With roses bending to each passing breeze,
Attracts the eye, and glistens in the sun—
Were interspersed around; while in the vale
The streamlet gave a silver gleam, and flow'd
Beneath the hill, on whose majestic brow,
Dimm'd with the ivy of a thousand years,
The rural fane, encircled with its tombs,
Displayed its mouldering form. Amid the light
And harmony of this enchanting scene,
'Tis sweet to have a temple that recalls
The heart from earth's turmoil, and hallows it
With hopes that soar beyond the flight of time.
Beautiful Lake! most lovely Windermere!
Thou mirror to the mountains that enclose
Thy shores with zone magnificent;—in storm,
Or calm—when summer wantons with thy waves,
Or winter clouds thy crystal brow with gloom,
Oh! mayst thou still entrance the wanderer's eye,
And keep congenial quiet in his soul.
Thy fairy haunts, where solitude pervades
The feelings like a spirit, might allure
Some visionary youth to muse beneath
The rocks empurpled with the sunny beam,
And blend the music of his harp with thine
In gentlest murmurs,—consecrated Lake!
NEW BOOKS
PETER THE GREAT
His attention was forcibly attracted to the magnificent building of Greenwich Hospital, which, until he had visited it, and seen the old pensioners, he had some difficulty in believing to be any thing but a royal palace. King William having one day asked him how he liked his hospital for decayed seamen, the Tzar answered, "If I were the adviser of your Majesty, I should counsel you to remove your court to Greenwich, and convert St. James's into a hospital."
It being term time while the Tzar was in London, he was taken into Westminster Hall; he inquired who all those busy people in black gowns and flowing wigs were, and what they were about? Being answered, "They are lawyers, sir;"—"Lawyers!" said he, with marks of astonishment, "why, I have but two in my whole dominions, and I believe I shall hang one of them the moment I get home."1
In the first week of March, vice-admiral Mitchell was ordered to repair forthwith to Spithead, and, taking several ships (eleven in number) under his command, hoist the blue flag at the fore-topmast head of one of them. It is not stated for what purpose these vessels were put under his command, nor was any public order given. But the Postman,2 under date of 26th March, says, "On Tuesday the Tzar of Muscovy went on board admiral Mitchell, in his Majesty's ship the Humber, who presently hoisted sail and put to sea from Spithead, as did also his Majesty's ships the Restauration, Chichester, Defiance, Swiftsure, York, Monmouth, Dover, Kingston, Coventry, Seaforth, and Swan." And the Flying-post, or Postmaster,3 has the following intelligence: "The representation of a sea engagement was excellently performed before the Tzar of Muscovy, and continued a considerable time, each ship having twelve pounds of powder allowed; but all their bullets were locked up in the hold, for fear the sailors should mistake." It is stated in the logs of the Humber and the Kingston that they had two sham fights; that the ships were divided into two squadrons, and every ship took her opposite and fired three broad-sides aloft and one alow without shot. The Tzar was extremely pleased with the performance. It is said, indeed, he was so much delighted with every thing he saw in the British navy, that he told admiral Mitchell he considered the condition of an English admiral happier than that of a Tzar of Russia.4
On returning from Portsmouth, Peter and his party stopped at Godalming for the night, where, it would appear, from the bill of fare, they feasted lustily. Among the papers of Ballard's Collection, in the Bodleian Library, is one from Mr. Humphrey Wanley5 to Dr. Charlett,6 which contains the following passage:—"I cannot vouch for the following bill of fare, which the Tzar and his company, thirteen at table, and twenty-one in all, ate up at Godalming (or Godliming), in Surrey, in their way home, but it is averred for truth by an eye-witness, who saw them eating, and had this bill from the landlord. At breakfast—half a sheep, a quarter of lamb, ten pullets, twelve chickens, three quarts of brandy, six quarts of mulled wine, seven dozen of eggs, with salad in proportion. At dinner:—five ribs of beef, weight three stone; one sheep, fifty-six pounds; three quarters of lamb, a shoulder and loin of veal boiled, eight pullets, eight rabbits, two dozen and a half of sack, one dozen of claret."7
Gentleman's Mag. vol. vii.
Postman, No. 441.
Postmaster, No. 449.
Nestesuranoi. Mottley.
Author of "Wonders of the little World."
Master of University College.
There are among our countrymen those who are scarcely outdone by the Tzar of Russia and his companions. At the same place, and probably at the same house, long known as
