at Halle were only the counterpart of those done fourteen years before by Blake in their own land, is certainly surprising, and affords another proof of the proneness of Britons to extol everything foreign to the neglect of what is native and at their own doors.
Perhaps some of your readers will think I over-estimate the importance of the question, whether the charity-school movement is of British or foreign growth; or whether the honour of its application to the poor (for all charity-schools are not for such) belongs to my subject William Blake, or some other philanthropic individual; if such there be, let them repair to our Metropolitan Cathedral on the day of the annual assemblage of the London charity children: and if, on contemplating the spectacle which will there meet their eye, they do not think it an object of interest to discover who, as Dr. Kennett says, "first cast in the salt at the fountain-head to heal the waters, and broke the ground that was before barren," I pity them.
In concocting this Note, I have had before me the following:
1. Lysons's Environs of London, 1795, where will be found a short notice of Blake. The author, following Gough, makes my subject a madman, and says his scheme "failed after laying out 5000l. upon it."
2. Sermon preached for Charity-schools, by Dr. Kennett, 1706.
3. Sermons of Dr. Smalridge and T. Yulden, 1710 and 1728. These divines give the precedence to Westminster School, "erected 1688."
4. Wodrow's Letters, edited by Dr. McCrie, 3 vols., Edin. 1843.
5. Pietas Hallensis: or an Abstract of the Marvellous Footsteps of Divine Providence, in the building of a very large Hospital, or rather a Spacious College, for Charitable and Excellent Uses; and in the maintaining of many Orphans, and other Poor People therein at Glaucha, near Halle in Prussia, related by the Rev. A. H. Franck, 3 parts, 12mo., London, 1707-16. Let the curious reader compare this with Blake's book.
FOLK LORE
Legends of the County Clare.—About nine miles westward from the town of Ennis, in the midst of some of the wildest scenery in Ireland, lies the small but very beautiful Lake of Inchiquin, famous throughout the neighbouring country for its red trout, and for being in winter the haunt of almost all the various kinds of waterfowl, including the wild swan, that are to be found in Ireland, while the woods that border one of its sides are amply stocked with woodcocks. At one extremity of the lake are the ruins of the Castle of Inchiquin, part of which is built on a rock projecting into the lake, there about one hundred feet deep, and this legend is related of the old castle:—Once upon a time, the chieftain of the Quins, whose stronghold it was, found in one of the caves (many of which are in the limestone hills that surround the lake) a lady of great beauty, fast asleep. While gazing on her in rapt admiration she awoke, and, according to the customs of the Heroic Age, soon consented to become his bride, merely stipulating that no one bearing the name of O'Brien should be allowed to enter the castle gate: this being agreed to, the wedding was celebrated with all due pomp, and in process of time one lovely boy blessed their union. Among the other rejoicings at the birth of an heir to the chief of the clan, a grand hunting-match took place, and the chase having terminated near the castle, the chieftain, as in duty bound, requested the assembled nobles to partake of his hospitality. To this a ready assent was given, and the chiefs were ushered into the great hall with all becoming state; and then for the first time did their host discover that one bearing the forbidden name was among them The banquet was served, and now the absence of the lady of the castle alone delayed the onslaught on the good things spread before them. Surprised and half afraid at her absence, her husband sought her chamber: on entering, he saw her sitting pensively with her child at the window which overlooked the lake; raising her head as he approached, he saw she was weeping, and as he advanced towards her with words of apology for having broken his promise, she sprang through the window with her child into the lake. The wretched man rushed forward with a cry of horror: for one moment he saw her gliding over the waters, now fearfully disturbed, chanting a wild dirge, and then, with a mingled look of grief and reproach, she disappeared for ever! And the castle and the lordship, with many a broad acre besides, passed from the Quins, and are now the property of the O'Briens to this day; and while the rest of the castle is little better than a heap of ruins, the fatal window still remains nearly as perfect as when the lady sprang through it, an irrefragable proof of the truth of the legend in the eyes of the peasantry.
The Seven Whisperers.—I have been informed by an old and trustworthy servant that about twenty years ago, as he was walking one clear starlight night with two other persons, they heard, for the space of several minutes, high up in the air, beautiful sounds like music, which gradually died away towards the north. He spoke of it as an occurrence not very uncommon, and said it was always called "The Seven Whisperers." On inquiry I found the name well known amongst the poorer classes.
Is it not an electrical phenomenon?
Essex.
ITALIAN-ENGLISH, GERMAN-ENGLISH, AND THE REFUGEE STYLE
Every one has admired the odd bits of Italian-English which "N. & Q." lately published, a true philological curiosity. Such queer medleys have been the result whenever two opposite idioms have been thrown together and unskilfully stirred up. Very few foreigners indeed, Sclavonic nations being excepted, and particularly the Russians, write French tolerably well. The present Lord Mahon and Lady Montaigne, in an excellent Essay on Marriage, are exceptions to the rule. Voltaire used to say,—
"Faites tous vos vers à Paris;
Et n'allez pas en Allemagne!"
And very right he was. His kingly disciple committed more than once such Irish rhymes as these:
"Je vais cueillir dans leurs sentiers (des Muses)
De fraîches et charmantes roses;
Et je dédaigne les lauriers,
En exceptant les lauriers sauces."
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