would become of the brewer then? Surely we doe live in an age,* wherein the seven deadly sins are every man's trade and living. Pride is the maintainer of thousands, which would else perish; as mercers, taylors, embroydrers, silkmen, cutters, drawers, sempsters, laundresses, of which functions there are millions which would starve but for Madam Pride, with her changeable fashions. Letchery, what a continual crop of profits it yeelds, appears by the gallant thriving and gawdy outsides of many he and she, private and publicke sinners, both in citie and suburbs. Covetousnesse is embroydered with extortion, and warmly lined and furred with oppression; and though it be a divell, yet is it most idolatrously adored, honoured, and worshipped by those simple sheep-headed fooles, whom it hath undone and beggared. I could speake of other vices, how profitable they are to a commonwealth; but my invention is thirsty, and must have one carouse more at the brewhouse, who (as I take it) hath a greater share than any, in the gaines which spring from the world's abuses. If any man hang, drowne, stabbe, or by any violent meanes make away his life, the goods and lands of any such person are forfeit to the use of the king; and I see no reason but those which kill themselves with drinking, should be in the same estate, and be buried in the highways, with a stake drove thorow them; and if I had but a grant of this suite, I would not doubt but that in seven yeeres (if my charity would but agree with my wealth,) I might erect almes-houses, freeschooles, mend highways, and make bridges; for I dare sweare, that a number (almost numberlesse) have confessed upon their death-beds, that at such and such a time, in such and such a place, they dranke so much, which made them surfeite, of which surfeite they languished and dyed. The maine benefit of these superfluous and manslaughtering expenses, comes to the brewer, so that if a brewer be in any office, I hold him to be a very ingrateful man, if he punish a drunkard; for every stiffe, potvaliant drunkard Some make a profit of quarreling; some pick their livings out of contentions and debate; some thrive and grow fat by gluttony; many are bravely maintained by bribery, theft, cheating, roguery, and villiany; but put all these together, and joine to them all sorts of people else, and they all in general are drinkers, and consequently the brewer's clients and cus tomers. is a post, beam, or pillar, which holds up the brewhouse; for as the barke is to the tree, so is a good drinker to the brewer. FLORAL DIRECTORY. Crowded Heath. Erica conferta. Dedicated to St. Eadburge. December 13. St. Lucy, A. D. 304. St. Jodoc, or Josse, A. D. 669. St. Kenelm, King, A. D. 820. St. Aubert, Bp. of Cambray and Arras, A. D. 669. B. John Marinoni, A. D. 1562. St. Othilla, A. D. 772. St. Lucy. This saint is in the church of England calendar and the almanacs. She was a young lady of Syracuse, who preferring a religious single life to marriage, gave away all her fortune to the poor. Having been accused to Peschasius, a heathen judge, for professing christianity, she was soon after barbarously murdered by his officers.* TRANSATLANTIC VERSES. The following effusions are from America. The first, by Mr. R. H. Wilde, a distinguished advocate of Georgia; the second, by a lady of Baltimore, who moots in the court of the muses, with as much ingenuity as the barrister in his own court. STANZAS. My life is like the summer rose Is scattered on the ground to die. That trembles in the moon's pale ray, Its hold is frail, its date is brief, Restless, and soon to pass away. Yet, ere that leaf shall fall and fade, The parent tree shall mourn its shade, The winds bewail the leafless tree, But none shall breath a sigh for me. My life is like the prints which feet Have left on Tempe's desert strand, Soon as the rising tide shall beat All trace will vanish from the sand. Yet, as if grieving to efface All vestige of the human race, On that lone shore loud moans the sea; But none, alas! shall mourn for me. • Audley's Companion to the Almanac. ANSWER. The dews of night may fall from heaven, To mourn the virtues of the dead. The tree may mourn its fallen leaf, And autumn winds bewail its bloom, O'er those who sleep within the tomb. Lament each trace it bears away; O'er cherish'd friendship's fast decay: FLORAL DIRECTORY. Cypress arbor vitæ. Thuja cupressioides, December 14. St. Spiridion, Abp. A. D. 348. Sts. Nicasius, 9th Abp. of Rheims, and kis Companions, 5th Cent. Ember Week. This is an ancient fast, wherein monks were enjoined to great abstinence preparatory to the festival of Christmas. FLORAL DIRECTORY. Swamp Pine. Pinus palustris December 15. St. Eusebius, Bp. of Vercelli, a. D. 371. SEASONABLE. There is a class of those who are said to "dearly love the lasses, oh?" by whom the verses below may be read without danger of their becoming worse. A Winter Piece. It was a winter's evening, and fast came down the snow, FLORAL DIRECTORY. St. St. Ado, Abp. of Vienne, A. D. 875. [Cambridge Term ends.] tion, and some have imagined that "o SAPIENTIA" was a saint and martyr, one of the celebrated eleven thousand virgins of St. Ursula. Mr. Audley, however, has rightly observed that, "This day is so called from the beginning of an anthem in the service of the Latin church, which used to be sung for the honour of Christ's advent, from this day till Christmas eve."-The anthem commenced with these words, "o SAPIENTIA quæ ex ore altissimi prodidisti," &c. FLORAL DIRECTORY. Chinese arbor vitæ. Thuja orientalis. Dedicated to St. Alice December 17. St. Olympias, A. D. 410. St. Begga, Abbess, A. D. 698. [Oxford Term ends.] The Season. By this time all good housewives, with an eye to Christmas, have laid in their stores for the coming festivities. Their mincemeat has been made long ago, and they begin to inquire, with some anxiety, concerning the state of the poultry market, and especially the price of prime roasting beef "O the roast beef of old England, And O the old English roast beef!" Manner of Roasting Beef anciently. A correspondent, who was somewhat ruffled in the dog-days by suggestions for preventing hydrophobia, let his wrath go down before the dog-star; and in calm good nature he communicates a pleasant anecdote or two, which, at this time, may be deemed acceptable. To the Editor of the Every-Day Book. Dear Sir, As an owner of that useful class of animals, dogs, I could not but a little startle at the severity you cast on their owners in your "Sirius," or dog-star of July 3d. In enumerating their different qualities and prescribing substitutes, you forgot one of the most laborious employments formerly assigned to a species of dogs with long backs and short legs, called "Turnspits." The mode of teaching them their business was more summary than humane: the dog was put in a wheel, and a burning coal with him; he could not stop without burning his legs, and so was kept upon the full gallop. These dogs were by no means fond of their profession; it was indeed hard work to run in a wheel for two or three hours, turning a piece of meat which was twice their own weight. As the season for roasting meat is fast approaching, perhaps you can find a corner in your Every-Day Book for the insertion of a most extraordinary circumstance, relative to these curs, which took place many years ago at Bath. It is recorded, that a party of young wags hired the chairmen on Saturday night to steal all the turnspits in the town, and lock them up till the following evening. Accordingly on Sunday, when every body desires roast meat for dinner, all the cooks were to be seen in the streets,"Pray have you seen our Chloe?" says one. "Why," replies the other, "I was coming to ask you if you had seen our Pompey;" up came a third while they were talking, to inquire for her Toby,and there was no roast meat in Bath that day. It is recorded, also, of these dogs had as usual followed their mistresses to in this city, that one Sunday, when they church, the lesson for the day happened to be that chapter in Ezekiel, wherein the self-moving chariots are described. When first the word "wheel" was pronounced, all the curs pricked up their ears in alarm; at the second wheel they set up a doleful howl; and when the dreaded word was uttered a third time, every one of them scampered out of church, as fast as he could, with his tail between his legs. Nov. 25, 1825. JOHN FOSTER. B. "Very well, thank'ee; how do you do?" A. "Very well, thank'ee; is Mrs. Brooks well?" B. "Very well, I'm much obliged t'ye. Mrs. Adams and the children are well, I hope?" A. "Quite well, thank'ee." B. "Rather pleasant weather to-day." A. "Yes, but it was cold in the morning." B. "Yes, but we must expect that at this time o'year." (Another pause, neckcloth twisted and switch twirled.) A. "Seen Smith lately?" B. "No, I can't say I have-but I have seen Thompson." A. "Indeed-how is he?" B. "Very well, thank'ee." A. "I'm glad of it. Well,-good morning." B. "Good morning." Here it is always observed that the speakers, having taken leave, walk faster than usual for some hundred yards. my Thomson. send you a budget of these gallimaufry odds and ends, whereon I know you have set your heart, yet I hope you will believe that I thoroughly determined to keep my word. To be frank, I had no sooner landed, than desire came over me to reach domicile at this place as fast as possible, and get at my old field-sports therefore posted hither without delay and, having my gun once more in my hand, have been up every morning with the lark, lark shooting, and letting fly at all that flies-my conscience flying and flapping in my face at every recollection I of my engagement to you. I well remember your telling me I should forget you, and my answering, that it was "impossible!" Birds were never more plentiful, and till a frost sets them off to a milder atmosphere, I cannot be off for England. I am spell-bound to the fields and waters. Do not, however, be disheartened; I hope yet to do something handsome for your "hobby," but I have one of my own, and I must ride him while I can. It strikes me, however, that I can communicate something in my way, that will interest some readers of the EveryDay Book, if you think proper to lay it before them. Every labouring man in France has a right to sport, and keeps a gun. The consequence of this is, that from the middle of October, or the beginning of this month, vast quantities of wild-fowl are annually shot in and about the fens of Picardy, whither they resort principally in the night, to feed along the different ditches and small ponds, many of which are artificially contrived with one, two, and sometimes three little huts, according to the dimensions of the pond. These huts are so ingeniously manufactured, and so well adapted to the purpose that I send you two drawings to convey ar idea of their construction. All wild-fowl are timorous, and easily deceived. The sportsman's huts, to the number of eight or ten, are placed in such a situation, that not until too late do the birds discover the deception, and the destruction which, under cover, the fowlers deal among them. To allure them from their heights, two or three tame ducks, properly secured to stones near the huts, keep up an incessant quacking during the greater part of the night. The huts are sufficiently large to admit two men and a dog; one man keeps watch while his companion sleeps half the night, when, for the remainder, it becomes his turn to watch and relieve the other. They have blankets, a mattress, and suitable conveniences, for passing night after night obscured in their artificial caverns, and exposed to unwholesome damps and fogs. The huts are formed in the following manner:-A piece of ground is raised sufficiently high to protect the fowler from the wet ground, upon which is placed the frame of the temporary edifice. This is mostly made of ozier, firmly interwoven, as in this sketch. This frame is covered with dry reeds, and well plastered with mud or clay, to the thickness of about four inches, upon which is placed, very neatly, layers of turf, so that the whole, at a little distance, looks like a mound of verdant earth. Three holes, about four inches in diameter, for the men inside to see and fire through, are neatly cut; one is in the front, and one on each side. Very frequently there is a fourth at the top. This is for the purpose of firing from at the wild-fowl as they pass over. The fowlers, lying upon their backs, discharge guess shots at the birds, who are only heard by the noise of their wings in their flight. Fowlers, with quick ears, attain considerable expertness in this guess-firing. The numbers that are shot in this way are incredible. They are usually therefore sold at a cheap rate. At forty sous a couple, (18. 8d. English) they are dear, but the price varies according to their condition. In the larger drawing, I have given the appearance of the country and of the atmosphere at this season, and a duckshooter with his gun near his hut, on the look out for coming flocks; but I fear wood engraving, excellent as it is for most purposes, will fall very short of the capability of engraving on copper to convey a correct idea of the romantic effect of the commingling cloud, mist, and sunshine, I have endeavoured to represent in this delightful part of France. Such as it is, it is at your service to do with as you please. For myself, though for the sake of va riety, I have now and then crept into a fowler's hut, and shot in ambuscade, I |
