I do talk to somewhat methinks; it may be,
My Evil Genius.-Do not the bells ring?
I've a strange noise in my head. Oh, fly in pieces !-
Come, age, and wither me into the malice

Of those that have been happy; let me have
One property for more than the devil of hell;
Let me envy the pleasure of youth heartily;
Let me in this life fear no kind of ill,

That have no good to hope for. Let me sink,
Where neither man nor memory may find me. (falls

to the ground),

Except perhaps a little circumstance,
Have we for this or that to be a piece
Of Delphos' ruins? or the marble statues,
Made Athens glorious when she was supposed
To have more images of men than men?
A weather-beaten stone, with an inscription
That is not legible but thro' an optic,
Tells us its age; that in some Sibyl's cave
Three thousand years ago it was an altar,
Tis satisfaction to our curiosity,
But ought not to necessitate belief.-
For Antiquity,

I do not store up any under Grecian;

Your Roman antiques are but modern toys

Compared to them. Besides they are so counterfeit

With mouldings, tis scarce possible to find

Any but copies.

Of

Friend. Yet you are confident

yours, that are of more doubt.

Horten. Others from their easiness

May credit what they please. My trial's such
Of any thing I doubt, all the impostors,
That ever made Antiquity ridiculous,
Cannot deceive me. If I light upon

Ought that's above my skill, I have recourse
To those, whose judgment at the second view
(If not the first) will tell me what Philosopher's
That eye-less, nose-less, mouth-less Statue is,

hope; the best pillow in th' world

For this your contemplation is the earth;

And the best object, Heaven.

Leonora. I am whispering

To a dead friend-

Obstacles.

Let those, that would oppose this union,
Grow ne'er so subtle, and entangle themselves
In their own work, like spiders; while we two
Haste to our noble wishes; and presume,
The hindrance of it will breed more delight,-
As black copartaments shews gold more bright..

Thousands of years have been revolved.

Accidents to frustrate Purpose.

How various are the events that may depend

Upon one action, yet the end proposed

Not follow the intention I accidents

Will interpose themselves; like those rash men,

That thrust into a throng, occasioned

By some tumultuous difference, where perhaps Their busy curiosity begets

New quarrels with new issues.

C. L.

SHIRE.

Handsome villas, farm-houses,

FOF A TOURIST.*

or the Table Book.

June 1, 1827.

Visited Chatsworth, the princely residence of the duke of Devonshire, three miles to the north-east of Bakewell. As soon as the summit of the neighbouring hill is attained, the house and park lie immediately in front in a beautiful valley, watered by the Derwent. An addition is making to the main building, which is large, but not very handsome in its architectural design; on approaching it, I passed over an elegant stone bridge, close to which is an island whereon a fictitious fortress is built. The views on all sides are strikingly fine, and of great variety; hills and dales, mountains and woods, water and verdant pasture lands. It requires "a poet's lip, or a painter's eye," to adequately depict the beauties of this enchanting place. Perhaps no estate in the kingdom furnishes choicer objects for the pencil. I do not think, however, that the grounds in the immediate vicinity of the mansion are so well disposed, or the scenery so rich, nor does the interior offer such magnificent works of art, as at Blenheim. There is much sculpture, of various degrees of merit, distributed about the apartments; but the collection is in its infancy, and a splendid gallery is in progress for its reception. The finest production of the chisel is Canova's statue of Napoleon's mother; its natural grace and ease, with the fine flowings of the drapery, and the grave placidity of the countenance, are solemnly majestic-she looks the mother of Napoleon. Among the other great attractions here, are a bust of Petrarch's Laura, another of his present majesty, by Chantrey; and a portrait of his majesty by sir Thomas Lawrence.

The next day I continued my route towards Matlock Bath-as beautiful a ride as I ever took. The road follows the Wye for six miles in a vale, past the aged towers of Haddon Hall, and the scenery presents every interesting feature that can be coveted by the most enthusiastic lover of nature;rugged and beetling crags, gently sloping hills, extensive woods, rich meadows and fertile vallies, form the composition of

* See p. 12.

At the end of the six miles, the road turns over a bridge across the Wye, leading through the dale (Matlock) to the Bath. The river here rolls darkly along, its progress swifter and its depth greater; the same rocky barrier that encloses all the dales in this county uplifting its huge masses of rocks on either side. The margin of the river is thickly studded with large trees, close copse-woods clothe the slopes at the bottom, and ascend part of the cliffs' sides

wild shrubs branch from the clefts above, whence innumerable jackdaws whirl their flights, and make incessant monotonous noise. About a mile before reaching Matlock Bath is a mountain called the High-Tor, its bare and jagged head rising far above the adjoining rocks. I was informed that it contains a fine natural grotto, but the river was too deep to wade, and I missed the sight.

On rounding a point, the shining white buildings of the Bath appear along the foot and some distance up the side of a steep lofty hill, called the " Heights of Abraham." The greater part of the village is situated in the valley, but a second may be said to be beneath it, through which the river flows; its banks are thickly planted with groves of trees, and winding paths have been made throughout these delightful haunts, for the pleasure of the visitors. The cliffs rise opposite majestically perpendicular, and as finely picturesque as any I saw in Derbyshire. The " Heights of Abraham" are at least a quarter of a mile above the highest of the houses. A zigzag road through a shrubbery leads to the celebrated natural cavern near the summit-an immense recess, as grand as Peak's Hole, but far more beautiful; for its sides are formed of a variety of spars of surprising brilliancy. To mineralogists it is the most interesting resort in England; and here collectors, prosecuting their discoveries, think themselves happy, although deprived of the light of heaven for whole days together. The whole of this immense mountain is one sparkling mass of various spars and ores.

Ascending this steep road on horseback, I found the views, through the shrubs, of the village and valley beneath, the river, and the surrounding mountains, inconceivably grand. High-Tor was on the left, and Wild-Cat-Tor on the right-beyond which the Wye, gleaming in the sun's

rays, wound sinuously along the verdant vale, till it was so diminished by the distance as to seem like a bent wire of shining silver, and was lost to sight by the intervention of a far-off mountain.

Of all places this seems to present the greatest inducements to the temporary visitant; and to anglers it is the ne plus ultra of piscatorial recreation.

After a day's enjoyment of this charming spot, I went forward, but the threat ening appearance of the weather induced me to sojourn at a small public-house in one of the smaller dales. Heavy clouds arose, and the rain obscured the distant hills; running along their summits, having the appearance of thick fog. The weather clearing, I walked out, and surveyed the curious old limestone built "hostel," with the sign of "A Trout," scarcely decipherable from age. Some anglers, whom the heavy shower had driven for shelter under the cliffs, again appeared, and threw their artificial temptations on the surface of a stream flowing from the mountain at the back of the little inn. Its water turned singularly constructed machinery for crushing the lead ore, washed down from a neighbouring large mine. Immense fragments of rock, by falling betwixt two iron wheels, with teeth fitted closely together, are pounded to atoms. A number of men, women, and children, were busy shovelling it into sieves set in motion by the machine, and it separated itself by its own weight from the stone or spar that contained it.

Determined by my curiosity to descend into the mine, I procured a miner to accompany me; and following the stream for a short distance, reached a small hut near the entrance, where I clothed myself completely in miner's apparel, consisting of a stout woollen cap, under a large, slouched, coarse beaver hat, thick trowsers, and a fustian jacket, with "clods," or miner's shoes. At the mouth of the mine we seated ourselves opposite to each other in a narrow mining cart, shaped from the bottom like a wedge, attached to a train of others of similar make, used for conveying the ore from the interior. Having been first furnished with a light each, we proceeded, drawn by two horses, at a rapid pace, along a very narrow passage or level, cut through the limestone rock, keeping our arms with in the sledge, to prevent their being jammed against the sides, which in many places struck the cars very forcibly. In this manner, with frequent alarming jolts, we arrived at a shaft, or descent, into the mine. We got out of our vehicles and descended

by means of ladders, of five fathoms in length, having landing places at the bottom of each. The vein of the lead ore was two hundred fathoms deep. We therefore descended forty ladders, till we found ourselves at the commencement of another passage similar to the first. All the way down there was a tremendous and deafening noise of the rushing of water through pipes close to the ear, caused by the action of a large steam-engine. The ladders and sides of the rock were covered with a dark slimy mud. We walked the whole length, several hundred yards, along the second level, knee deep in water, till we reached the spot, or vein, that the workmen were engaged on. They were labouring in a very deep pit; their lights discovered them to us at the bottom. Into this chasm I was lowered by a wheel, with a rope round my body; and having broken off a piece of lead ore with a pickaxe, I was withdrawn by the same means. Another set of labourers were procuring ore by the process of blasting the rock with gunpowder-I fired one of the fusees, and retiring to a distant shelter, awaited the explosion in anxious alarm; its reverberating shock was awfully grand and loud. My ascent was dreadfully fatiguing from the confined atmosphere; and I was not a little rejoiced when I could inhale the refreshing air, and hail the cheering light of day.

August.

E. J. H.

THE FRUIT MARKETS OF LONDON AND PARIS IN THIS MONTH.

A gentleman, one of a deputation for inquiring into the state of foreign horticulture, visited the Paris fruit and vegetable market in the month of August, 1821, and having seen Covent Garden market nearly a fortnight earlier, under peculiar circumstances, was enabled to form an estimate of their comparative excellencies.

The coronation of George IV. on the 19th of July had caused a glut of fruit in the London market, such as had never been remembered, and large quantities of the fruit, which had not met with the expected demand, remained on hand.

In regard to Pine-apples, Mr. Isaac Andrews of Lambeth alone cut sixty ripe fruit on the occasion, and many hundreds, remarkable for size and flavour. came from

distant parts of the country. One from lord Cawdor's weighed 10 lbs.; and, after being exhibited at a meeting of the London Horticultural Society, was sent to the Royal Banquet. Pine-apples are not to be got at Paris. When they are wanted at grand entertainments, they are generally procured from Covent Garden market by means of the government messengers who are constantly passing between the two capitals. From our possessing coals, and from our gardeners being well versed in the modes of raising fruit under glass, it is probable that we shall always maintain a superiority in the production of this delicious article for the dessert.

The quantity of ripe Grapes exhibited for sale in Covent Garden market from the middle to the end of July, in the year alluded to, would, if told, surpass the belief of Parisian cultivators; more especially when it is added, that the kinds were chiefly the Black Hamburgh, the white muscat of Alexandria, and the Frontignacs. Andrews also took the lead in the grape department; insomuch that while very good Black Hamburgh grapes, from different parts of the country, were selling, during the crowded state of the capital, at 4s. per lb., his bunches currently obtained 68. 6d. per lb. Their excellence consisted. chiefly in the berries having been well thinned and thoroughly ripened. On the 29th of July great quantities of grapes, remarkable for size and excellence, still remained in the market, and were selling at 3s. and 3s. 6d. a pound. At Paris ripe grapes are not to be procured, at this season of the year, for any sum. On the 14th of August, prince Leopold, then on his way to Italy, dined with the English ambassador, when a splendid dessert was desirable; but ripe grapes could not be found at Paris. A price equal to 128. sterling per lb. was paid for some unripe bunches, merely to make a show, for they were wholly unfit for table use. On the 21st of the same month the duke of Wellington being expected to arrive to dinner, another search for ripe grapes was instituted throughout Paris, but in vain. In short, the English market is well supplied with fine grapes from the middle of June till the middle of November; but, from being raised under glass, they are necessarily high priced; while the Paris market offers a copious supply of the table Chasselas, from the middle of September to the middle of March, at very cheap rates, from 12 to 20 sous, or 6d. to 8d. per pound; the coarse vineyard grapes being only 1d. a pound.

The Bigarreau or graffion Cherry was still very abundant in Covent Garden mar ket, and also the black or Dutch guigne at Paris, however, even the late cherries had almost ceased to appear in the market.

In the London market the only good Pear was the large English Jargonelle (or épargne.) The Windsor pear was on the stalls, but not ripe. The Green chisel, (hâtiveau,) and the skinless, (poire sans peau,) were almost the only others I could see. The Paris market excelled, being well supplied with fine summer pears. The Ognolet or summer archduke, was pretty common it is named ognolet, from growing in clusters on the tree like bunches of onions. The large Blanquet, and the long-stalked blanquet, (the latter a very small fruit,) were also common. The Epargne, or Grosse cuisse Madame, was plentiful. A fruit resembling it, called Poire des deux têtes, was likewise abundant: it was large, sweet, and juicy, quite ripe, but without much flavour. The Epine-rose, (Caillot or Cayeout,) a very flat pear; the Musk-orange, which is of a yellow colour only; the Red orange, which has the true orange hue; and the Robine, or Royal d'été, were all plentiful. The small early Rousselet was exceedingly common and cheap, being produced abun dantly on old standards in all countryplaces. Towards the end of August, the Cassolette, a small pear of good flavour, and the Rousselet de Rheims, made their appearance; and the Poiré d'Angleterre (à beurré) began to be called through the streets in every quarter of the city.

Apples were more plentiful at London than at Paris. The Dutch Codlin and the Carlisle Codlin were abundant; and the Jenneting, the Summer Pearmain, and the Hawthorndean, were not wanting. At Paris very few apples appeared. The Summer Calville, a small conical dark-red fruit, and the Pigeonnet, were the only kinds ĺ remember to have seen.

Plums were more plentiful and in greater variety at the Marché des Innocens than at Covent Garden. At Paris, the Reine Claude, of excellent quality and quite ripe, was sold at the rate of two sous, or one penny, a dozen; while the same plum (green-gage) cost a penny each in London, though in an unripe state. The next in excellence at Paris was the Prune royale, of good size, and covered with the richest bloom. The Jaune-hâtive, the drap d'or, the Mirabelle, the Musk-damson or Malta plum, were common; likewise the Précoce

de Tours, remarkable for its peculiar dark hue; and a deep violet-coloured plum, called Prune noire de Montreuil. The Blue Perdrigon was just coming in. At Covent Garden the Primordian, or jaune-hâtive, and the morocco or early damask, were the only ripe plums to be seen.

Apricots were much more plentiful at the Innocens than at Covent Garden. The common apricot, the Portugal and the Angoumois, which much resemble each other, were frequent; these were small, of brisk flavour. The Abricot-pêche, however, not only excelled the others in size, but in quality, holding that superiority among the Parisian apricots which the Moorpark does among the English; and it appeared in considerable abundance. At London only the Roman and Moorpark were to be found, and the latter was not yet ripe.

In Peaches the French market most de cidedly surpassed the English. The quantity of this fruit presented for sale toward the middle of August appeared surprisingly great. It was chiefly from Montreuil, and in general in the most perfect state. Although ripe, scarcely a single fruit had suffered the slightest injury from the attacks of insects. This fact affords satisfactory proof that the plastered walls, being smooth and easily cleaned, are unfavourable to the breeding and lodging of such insects as often infest our rougher fruit-walls. The fine state of the fruit also shows the uncommon care which must be bestowed by the industrious inhabitants of Montreuil to prevent its receiving bruises in the gather ing or carriage. The principal kinds in the market were the small Mignonne; the large Mignonne, with some of the excellent subvariety called Belle Bauce; the yellow Alberge; the Bellegarde or Gallande; the Malta or Italian peach; the red Madeleine or De Courson; and the Early Purple.

Melons appeared in great profusion at Paris. In the Marché des Innocens and Marché St. Honoré the kinds were rather select, chiefly different varieties of Cante loup. These were not sold at so cheap a rate as might have been expected; ripe and well-flavoured canteloups costing 2, 3, or 4 francs each. But in almost every street the marchands de melons presented themselves; some occupying stalls, some moving about with brouettes or long wheelbarrows, and others with hampers on their backs, supported on crochets. In general those sold in the streets were much cheaper, (perhaps not more than half the price of the others,) but of coarse quality, such as

would scarcely be thought fit for use in England. The fruit is frequently long kept; and in the heats of August the odour exhaled from the melon-stalls was sickening and offensive. The kinds were chiefly the following: the Maraicher, a large netted melon, so called from being cultivated in the marais or sale-gardens; the Melon de Honfleur, of great size, often weighing from 20 to 30 lbs.; and the Coulombier, a coarse fruit, raised chiefly at the village of that name. These were almost the only sorts of melon sold in Paris, till our countryman Blaikie, about forty-five years ago, introduced the Rock Canteloup and Early Romana. It may be noticed, that melons of all kinds, even the best canteloups, are here raised in the open ground, with the aid of hand-glasses only, to protect the young plants in the early part of the season. In Covent Garden market a great many small melons, chiefly of the green-fleshed and white-fleshed varieties, appeared; but they were uniformly high-priced, though not proportionally dearer than the Parisian canteloups, considering that they had all been raised on hot-beds under glass-frames. Mulberries were much more plentiful at Paris than at London.

At Paris, fresh or recent Figs were, at this time, very common and very cheap; it was indeed the height of the fig-season, and they daily arrived in great quantities from Argenteuil. The round white fig seems to be the only kind cultivated; at least it was the only kind that came to market. No fresh figs can be expected in Covent Garden till the end of August, and then only small parcels. To make amends the London market was supplied with fine Gooseberries in profusion, while not one of good quality was to be seen at Paris. The same thing may be said of Raspberries and Currants, which are in a great measure neglected in France, or used only by con fectioners. The Parisians have never seen these fruits in perfection; and it is therefore no wonder that, in the midst of a profuse supply of peaches, reine claudes, figs, and pears, they should be overlooked. There exists a strong prejudice against the gooseberry, which prevents the Parisians from giving the improved kinds a fair trial: they have no idea that it is possible that gooseberries should form an excellent article of the dessert; they think of them only as fit for making tarts, or sauce for mackerel !*

• Mr. Pat. Neill, Sec. Cal. Hort. Soc. in Horticultural Tour,