The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Irish Penny Journal, Vol. 1 No. 25,
December 19, 1840, by Various

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Title: The Irish Penny Journal, Vol. 1 No. 25, December 19, 1840

Author: Various

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Language: English

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                        THE IRISH PENNY JOURNAL.

      NUMBER 25.       SATURDAY, DECEMBER 19, 1840.      VOLUME I.

[Illustration: THE MONUMENT TO THE MEMORY OF DR DOYLE, BY HOGAN.]

In presenting our readers with a drawing, made expressly for the purpose,
of the Monumental Sculpture intended to memorise the mortal form of an
illustrious Irishman, who was beloved and honoured by the great mass of
his countrymen, and respected for his talents by all, we have done that
which we trust will give as much pleasure to most of our readers, as it
has afforded gratification to ourselves.

This monument is indeed a truly interesting one, whether considered in
reference to its subject--the character of the distinguished individual
whose memory it is designed to honour--the circumstances which have given
it existence--or, lastly, as a work of high art, the production of an
Irishman whose talents reflect lustre on his country. It is, however, in
this last point of view only, that, consistently with the plan originally
laid down for the conduct of our little periodical, we can venture to
treat of it; and considered in this way, we cannot conceive a subject
more worthy of attracting public attention or more legitimately within
the scope of one of the primary objects our Journal was designed to
effect--namely, to make our country, and its people, without reference to
sect or party, more intimately known than they had been previously, not
only to strangers, but even to Irishmen themselves.

In our present object, therefore, of lending our influence, such as it
is, to make the merits of a great Irish artist more thoroughly known
and justly appreciated, by our countrymen in particular, than they have
hitherto been, we are only discharging a duty necessarily imposed upon
us; and the pleasure which we feel in doing so would be great indeed,
if it were not diminished by the saddening reflection that it should
be so necessary in the case of an artist of his eminence. But, alas!
the scriptural adage, that no man is a prophet in his own country, is
unfortunately nowhere so strikingly illustrated as in Ireland, and of
this fact Mr Hogan is a remarkable example. Holding, as he unquestionably
does, a high place among the most eminent sculptors of Europe, he is as
yet unpatronized by the aristocracy of his native country--is indeed
perhaps scarcely known to them.

Mr Hogan is not, as generally supposed, a native of Cork: he was born at
Tallow, in the county of Waterford, in 1800, where his father carried on
the business of a builder. He is of good family, both by the paternal
and maternal sides; his father being of the old Dalcassian tribe of the
O’Hogans, the chiefs of whom were located in the seventeenth century at
Ardcrony, in the county of Tipperary, four miles and a half to the north
of Nenagh, where the remains of their castle and church are still to
be seen. By the mother’s side he is descended from the celebrated Sir
Richard Cox, Lord Chief Justice of Ireland in the reign of William and
Mary, and Lord Chancellor in that of Queen Anne, his mother, Frances Cox,
being the great-granddaughter of that eminent individual.

Having received the ordinary school education, he was placed by his
father, in the year 1812, under an attorney in Cork, named Michael
Footte, with a view to his ultimately embracing the legal profession,
and in this situation he remained for two years. This was the most
unhappy period of his existence; for, like Chantrey, the greatest of
British sculptors, who was also articled to an attorney, being endowed
by nature expressly to become an artist, the original bias of his mind
to drawing and carving had by this time become a passion; and despite of
the frequent chastisements his master bestowed on him, in the exuberance
of his zeal to curb what he considered his idle propensities, his whole
soul was given, not to law, but to the Fine Arts, and an artist he became
accordingly. His father and his master seeing the utter uselessness of
any further attempts to divert his mind from its apparently destined
course, he was released from his irksome employment, and at the age of
fourteen entered the office of Mr Deane, now Sir Thomas Deane, of Cork,
as an apprentice, where he was soon employed as a draughtsman and carver
of models, with a view to his becoming ultimately an architect. In Mr
Deane he found a master who had the intellect to enable him to appreciate
his talents, and the good feeling to induce him to encourage them; and
the first use he made of the chisels with which his patron supplied him,
was to produce a carving in wood of a female skeleton the size of life,
on which Dr Woodroffe for a season was able to lecture his pupils, as
if it were, what it actually seems, a real skeleton in form and colour.
Under the instruction of this gentleman Mr Hogan studied anatomy for
several years, during which period he made for his improvement many
carvings in wood of hands and feet, and also essayed his talents on a
figure of Minerva the size of life, which still remains over the entrance
of the Life and Fire Insurance Office in the South Mall.

But though Mr Hogan was thus employed in pursuits congenial to his
tastes, and to a great degree conducive to his future eminence as a
sculptor, the idea of embracing sculpture as a profession did not occur
to him for several years after, nor were the requisite means of study
for that profession provided for the student in Cork at this time. There
was as yet in that city no Academy of Arts or other institution like
those in Dublin, provided, for the use of students, with those objects
which are so essential to the formation of a correct taste in the
higher departments of the Fine Arts, namely, a selection of casts from
the antique statues: and until such subjects for study were acquired,
the efforts of genius, however ardent, in the pursuit of beauty and
excellence, were necessarily blind and fortuitous. Happily, however,
this desideratum was at length supplied in Cork, where a Society for
Promoting the Fine Arts was formed in February 1816; and to this
Society the Prince Regent, in 1818, through the intercession of the
late Marquis of Conyngham and other Irish noblemen who had influence
with him, was induced to present a selection of the finest casts from
the antique statues, which had been sent him as a gift by the Roman
Pontiff, and the value of which the Prince but little appreciated. The
result was not only beyond anything that the most sanguine could have
anticipated in the rapid creation of artists of first-rate excellence,
but also in establishing the fact that among our own countrymen the
finest genius for art abundantly exists, and that it only requires
the requisite objects for study, with encouragement, to develope it.
The presence of these newly acquired treasures of ancient art, which
consisted of one hundred and fifteen subjects selected by Canova, and
cast under his direction, kindled a flame in Mr Hogan’s mind never to
be extinguished but with life, and he immediately applied himself to
their study with his whole heart and soul. Thus occupied he remained
till 1823, surrounded and excited to emulation by the kindred spirits of
Mac Clise, Scottowe, Ford--the glorious Ford!--Buckley the architect,
equally glorious--Keller, his own brother Richard, and many other of
lesser names--many of whom, alas for their own and their country’s fame!
paid the price of their early distinction with their lives. Well may the
people of Cork feel proud of this constellation of youthful genius--a
brighter one was never assembled together in recent times.

The period, however, had now arrived when the eagle wing of Hogan was
to try its strength; and most fortunately for him, an accident at this
time brought to Cork a man more than ordinarily gifted with the power to
assist him in its flight. The person we allude to was the late William
Paulett Carey, an Irishman no less distinguished for his abilities as a
critical writer on works of art, than for his ardent zeal in aiding the
struggles of genius, by making their merit known to the world. In August
1823, this gentleman, on the occasion of paying a visit to the gallery of
the Cork Society, “accidentally saw a small figure of a Torso, carved in
pine timber, which had fallen down under one of the benches. On taking
it up,” to continue Mr Carey’s own interesting narrative, “he was struck
by the correctness and good taste of the design, and the newness of
the execution. He was surprised to find a piece of so much excellence,
apparently fresh from the tool, in a place where the arts had been so
recently introduced, and where he did not expect to meet anything but
the crude essays of uninstructed beginners. On inquiry he was informed
it was the work of a young native of Cork, named Hogan, who had been
apprenticed to the trade of a carpenter under Mr Deane, an eminent
builder, and had at his leisure hours studied from the Papal casts, and
practised carving and modelling with intense application. Hogan was then
at work above stairs, in a small apartment in the Academy. The stranger
immediately paid him a visit, and was astonished at the rich composition
of a _Triumph of Silenus_, consisting of fifteen figures, about fourteen
inches high, designed in an antique style, by this self-taught artist,
and cut in bas-relief, in pine timber. He also saw various studies of
hands and feet; a grand head of an Apostle, of a small size; a copy of
Michael Angelo’s mask; some groups in bas-relief after designs by Barry;
and a female skeleton, the full size, after nature; all cut with delicacy
and beauty, in the same material. A copy of the antique _Silenus_ and
_Satyrs_, in stone, was chiselled with great spirit; and the model of a
Roman soldier, about two feet high, would have done credit to a veteran
sculptor. A number of his drawings in black and white chalks, from the
Papal casts, marked his progressive improvement and sense of ideal
excellence. The defects in his performances were such as are inseparable
from an early stage of untaught study, and were far overbalanced by their
merits. When his work for his master was over for the day, he usually
employed his hours in the evening in these performances. The female
skeleton had been all executed during the long winter nights.”

Becoming thus acquainted with Mr Hogan’s abilities, Mr Carey, with that
surprising prophetic judgment with which he was so eminently gifted,
at once predicted the young sculptor’s future fame, and proclaimed his
genius in every quarter in which he hoped it might prove serviceable to
him. He commenced by writing a series of letters, which were inserted
in the Cork Advertiser, “addressed to the nobility, gentry, and opulent
merchants, entreating them to raise a fund by subscription, to defray the
expense of sending Hogan to Italy, and supporting him there for three
or four years, to afford him the advantages of studying at Rome.” But
for some time these letters proved ineffectual, and would probably have
failed totally in their object but for Mr Carey’s untiring zeal. Acting
under his direction, Mr Hogan was induced to address a letter to that
noble patron of British genius, the late Lord de Tabley, then Sir John
Fleming Leicester, and to send him at the same time two specimens of his
carvings, “as the humble offering of a young self-taught artist.” This
letter, which was backed by one from Mr Carey himself, was responded
to at once in a letter written in the kindest spirit, and which
contained an enclosure of twenty-five pounds as Sir John’s subscription
to the proposed fund. This was the first money actually paid in, and
subscriptions soon followed from others. Through Mr Carey’s enthusiastic
representations, the Royal Irish Institution was induced to contribute
the sum of one hundred pounds, and the Royal Dublin Society to vote
twenty-five pounds for some specimens of his carvings which Mr Hogan
submitted to their notice. These acts of liberality were honourable to
those public bodies; yet, as Mr Carey well observed, it was to Lord de
Tabley’s generosity that Mr Hogan’s gratitude was most due. Here, as he
said, “was a young man of genius in obscurity, and wholly unknown to his
lordship, rescued from adversity in the unpromising morning of life--a
self-taught artist built up to fame and fortune by his munificence--a
torch lighted, which I hope will burn bright for ages, to the honour of
the empire. HOGAN may receive thousands of pounds from future patrons,
but it is to Lord de TABLEY’S timely encouragement that he will be
indebted for every thing.”

The subscriptions collected for Mr Hogan amounted in all to the sum of
two hundred and fifty pounds; and thus provided, he set out for Italy,
visiting London on his way, for the purpose of presenting letters to
Sir Thomas Lawrence and Sir Francis Chantrey, which Lord de Tabley had
given him, in the hope that they would procure him recommendatory letters
from those great artists that would be serviceable to him in Rome. But
these introductions proved of little value to him. Chantrey expressed
regret that he knew no one in the “Eternal City” to whom he could give
him a letter; and though Lawrence kindly gave him an introduction to
the Duchess of Devonshire, that distinguished lady had died a few days
before Mr Hogan reached Rome; “so that,” as Mr Carey remarks, “he found
himself an entire stranger, with little knowledge of the world, without
acquaintance or patron, and incapable of speaking the language, at the
moment of commencing his studies in Italy.”

But the young sculptor, on leaving his native country, was provided by
Lord de Tabley with something more valuable than these letters to British
artists--namely, a commission to execute a statue in marble for him, as
soon as he should think himself qualified by his preparatory studies for
the undertaking.

The statue, which was to launch the young sculptor into professional life
in Italy, was commenced soon after, but was not completed before his
noble patron had paid the debt of nature. Its subject, which is taken
from Gessner’s Death of Abel, is EVE, who shortly after her expulsion
from Paradise picks up a dead bird, which being the first inanimate
creature that she has seen, fills her with emotions of surprise, terror,
and pity. This statue, which is the size of life, and which is of
exquisite beauty, is now at Lord de Tabley’s seat in Cheshire.

While this statue was in progress, Mr Hogan conceived the subject and
completed the model of his second great work--one in which the peculiar
powers of his genius were more fully developed, and on the execution of
which, from peculiar circumstances, he entered with the most excited
enthusiasm. During the first year of his residence at Rome, Mr Hogan
happening to be present at an evening meeting of artists of eminence, the
conversation turned on the difficulty of producing any thing in sculpture
perfectly original; and to Mr Hogan’s astonishment, the celebrated
British sculptor Gibson stated as his opinion that it was impossible
now to imagine an attitude or expression in the human figure which had
not been already appropriated by the great sculptors of antiquity. This
opinion, though coming from one to whom our countryman then looked up,
appeared to him a strange and unsound one, and with the diffidence of
an artist whose powers were as yet untried, he ventured to express his
dissent from it; when Gibson, astonished at his presumption, somewhat
pettishly replied, “Then let us see if _you_ are able to produce such
an original work!” The challenge thus publicly offered could not be
refused by one of Hogan’s temperament; and the young sculptor, stung with
the taunt, lost no time in entering upon a work which was to test his
abilities as an artist, and to rescue his character from the imputation
of vanity and rashness. Under such feelings Mr Hogan toiled day and
night at his work, till he submitted to the artists in whose presence
the challenge had been offered, the result of his labours--his statue
of the Drunken Faun--a work which the great Thorwaldsen pronounced a
miracle of art, and which, if Hogan had never produced another, would
have been alone sufficient to immortalize his name. It is to be regretted
that this figure, which has all the beauty and truth of the antique
sculpture, combined with the most perfect originality, and which Mr Hogan
himself has recently expressed his conviction that it is beyond his
power to excel, should never have been executed in marble; but a cast of
it, presented by Lord de Tabley to the Royal Irish Institution (though
intended by Mr Hogan for the Dublin Society), may still be seen in their
deserted hall.

We have given these, as we trust, not uninteresting details of Mr Hogan’s
early life, at greater length than the limits assigned to our article
can well allow, and we must notice his subsequent career in briefer
terms. Though enrolled now among the resident sculptors in Rome, his
difficulties were not yet over; and in spite of the most enthusiastic
efforts on his part, they might and probably would have been ineffectual
in sustaining him, if no friendly aid had come to his assistance. In two
years after his arrival in Rome, or at the end of the year 1825, Hogan
found himself again in a state of embarrassment, without a commission,
his funds exhausted, or at least reduced to a state inadequate to the
necessary outlay of a sculptor in the purchase of marble, the rent of a
studio, and the payment of living models. For his extrication from these
difficulties he was again indebted to the liberality of Lord de Tabley
and the zeal of his advocate Mr Carey, by whom a second subscription was
collected, chiefly in England, amounting to one hundred and fifty pounds;
of which sum twenty-five pounds was contributed by Lord de Tabley in the
first instance, and twenty-five pounds by the Royal Irish Institution.
Trifling as this amount was, it proved sufficient for its object, and Mr
Hogan was never again necessitated to receive pecuniary assistance from
the public.

He applied himself forthwith to the production of a marble figure
intended for his friend and former master Sir Thomas Deane, but which
when finished his necessities obliged him to dispose of to the present
Lord Powerscourt, and for which he received one hundred pounds, being
barely the cost of the marble and roughing out or boasting. This statue,
which is about half the size of life, is now preserved in Powerscourt
House; and we may remark, that it is the only work of our countryman in
the possession of an Irish nobleman. His next important work was the
exquisite statue of the Dead Christ, now placed beneath the altar of
the Roman Catholic church in Clarendon Street. This work was originally
ordered for a chapel in Cork by the Rev. Mr O’Keeffe; but that gentleman,
on its arrival in Dublin, not being able to raise the funds required for
its payment, permitted Mr Hogan to dispose of it to the clergymen of
Clarendon Street, who paid for it the sum originally stipulated, namely,
four hundred and fifty pounds; and we need scarcely add, that this statue
is one of the most interesting objects of art adorning our metropolitan
city. Mr Hogan subsequently executed a duplicate of this statue, but with
some changes in the design, for the city of Cork; but we regret to have
to add that he has been as yet but very inadequately rewarded for his
labours on that work, a sum of two hundred and thirty-seven pounds being
still due him, and the amount which he has actually received (two hundred
pounds) being barely the cost of the marble and rough workmanship.

The execution of this statue was followed by that of a large sepulchral
monument in _basso relievo_ to the memory of the late Dr Collins, Roman
Catholic Bishop of Cloyne--a figure of Religion holding in her lap a
medallion portrait of the bishop. For this work Mr Hogan was to have
received two hundred pounds, but there is still a balance of thirty
pounds due to him.

We next find Mr Hogan engaged on a second work for our city--the _Pieta_,
or figures of the Virgin and the Redeemer, of colossal size, executed in
plaster for the Rev. Dr Flanagan, Roman Catholic Rector of the chapel in
Francis Street, which it now adorns. Of this work, an engraving, with a
masterly description and eulogium from the pen of the Marchese Melchiori,
a great authority in matters of critical taste in the fine arts, has
been published in the _Ape Italiana_--a work of the highest authority,
published monthly in Rome; and we should state for the honour of our
country, that our own Hogan and the sculptor Gibson are the only British
artists whose works have as yet found a place in it.

Mr Hogan’s subsequent works, exclusive of a number of busts, may now
be briefly enumerated. First, a marble figure of the late Archbishop
of Paris, about two and a half feet high, executed for the Lord de
Clifford; second, the Judgment of Paris--two figures in marble about the
same height as the last--for General Sir James Riall, an Irish baronet
resident in Bath; third, a monumental _alto relievo_ to the memory of
Miss Farrell of Dublin, executed for her mother, and considered by
Gibson as the best of all our sculptor’s works; fourth, a _Genio_ on a
sarcophagus, a monument for the family of the late Mr Murphy of Cork;
and, lastly, the Monument to Dr Doyle, on which we have now to utter a
few remarks.

Of the general design of this noble monument our prefixed illustration
will afford a tolerably correct idea; but it would require more than one
illustration of this kind to convey an adequate notion of its various
beauties and merits, for there is scarcely a point in which it can be
viewed in which it is not equally effective and striking. The subject,
as a sculptural one should be, is of the most extreme simplicity, and
yet of the most impressive interest--a Christian prelate in the act of
offering up a last appeal to heaven for the regeneration of his country,
which is personified by a beautiful female figure, who is represented in
an attitude of dejection at his side. In this combination of the real and
the allegorical there is nothing obscure or unintelligible even to the
most illiterate mind. In the figure of the prostrate female we recognise
at a glance the attributes of our country, and there existed no necessity
for the name “Erin,” inserted in very questionable taste upon her zone,
to determine her character. She is represented as resting on one knee,
her body bent and humbled, yet in her majestic form retaining a fullness
of beauty and dignity of character; her turret-crowned head resting on
one arm, while the other, with an expression of melancholy abandonment,
reclines on and sustains her ancient harp. In the male figure which
stands beside her in an attitude of the most unaffected grace and
dignity, we see a personification of the sublime in the Episcopal
character. He stands erect, his enthusiastic and deeply intellectual
countenance directed upwards imploringly, while with one hand he touches
with delicate affection his earthly mistress, and with the other,
stretched forth with passionate devotion, he appeals to heaven for her
protection. This is true and enduring poetry; and, as expressive of the
sentiment of religious patriotism unalloyed by any selfish consideration,
is far superior to the thought which Moore has so exquisitely expressed
in the well-known lines--

    “In my last humble prayer to the spirit above,
    Thy name shall be mingled with mine!”

Such is the touching poetical sentiment embodied in this work, which,
considered merely as a work of art, has merits above all praise.
In the beauty of its forms, its classical purity of design, its
simplicity and freedom from affectation or mannerism, its exquisite
finish and characteristic execution, and its pervading grace, truth,
and naturalness, it is beyond question the finest production of art in
monumental sculpture that Irish genius has hitherto achieved; and, taken
all and all, is, as we honestly believe, without a rival in any work of
the same class in the British empire.

We regret to have to state that Mr Hogan is, as we are informed, as yet
unpaid for this great national work, or that at least there is more than
a moiety of the sum agreed for, which was one thousand pounds, remaining
due to him. But surely his country, which has the deepest interest in
sustaining him in his career of glory, will not suffer him to depart from
her shores without fulfilling her part of a compact with one who has so
nobly completed his. We cannot believe it.

It will be seen by a retrospective glance at the details which we have
given of Mr Hogan’s labours during the past seventeen years in which
he has been toiling as a professional artist, that those labours have
been any thing but commensurately rewarded; they have indeed been barely
sufficient to enable him to sustain existence. But brighter prospects
are opening upon him for the future. His character as a sculptor is now
established beyond the possibility of controversy. His merits have been
recently recognised and honoured by the highest tribunal in the City of
the Arts with a tribute of approbation never before bestowed on a native
of the British Isles: he has been elected unanimously, and without any
solicitation or anticipation on his part, a member of the oldest Academy
of the Fine Arts in Europe--that which enrolled amongst its members the
divine Raphael, and all the other illustrious artists of the age of
Leo, and which holds its meetings upon their graves--the Academy of the
Virtuosi del Pantheon. His fellow-countrymen are also beginning to have a
just appreciation of his merits, and are coming forward nobly to supply
him with employment for future years; and when he returns to his Roman
studio, it will be to labour on works worthy of his country’s liberality,
and calculated to raise her fame amongst the civilized nations of the
world. Need we add, that he has our most ardent wishes for his future
success and happiness!

                                                                       P.

For the satisfaction of our readers we are induced to append to the
preceding notice of Mr Hogan the following list of some of the principal
commissions which he has recently received in Ireland;--

The Monument to the late Mr Secretary Drummond.

A Statue of the late Mr William Crawford of Cork, for which Mr Hogan is
to receive L.1000.

A monumental alto relievo, consisting of three figures, to the memory of
the late Mr William Beamish, for Blackrock Chapel, Cork--L.650.

Monument to the late Dr Brinkley, Bishop of Cloyne. A colossal figure in
relievo for the Cathedral of Cloyne.

An alto relievo for the Convent at Rathfarnham.

An alto relievo for the Chapel at Ross, county of Wexford, commissioned
from John Maher, Esq. M. P.--&c. &c.




ON ANIMAL TAMING.

FIRST ARTICLE.


That all animals, however fierce and ungovernable may be their natural
dispositions, have nevertheless implanted by a wise Providence within
their breasts a certain awe, a vague, indefinable dread of man, which,
although meeting with him for the first time, will induce them to fly his
presence, or at all events shun encounter, is, we think, a fact which
no observer of nature will deny. This instinct of submission to human
beings exists among all creatures, and the greater the intelligence they
possess, the more powerful is its operation. When we meet with instances
of a nature calculated to overturn this theory--such as wild animals
attacking and destroying travellers, or preying upon the shepherd as
he guards his flock, with others of a similar description--instead of
hastily presuming upon the falsity of the above position, we should
rather seek for some explanation of the reasons which in these cases
checked for the time the workings of the animal’s natural instinct.
These will be for the most part easily enough discovered, if sought for
in a spirit of impartial inquiry. The lion and the tiger are prompted
by natural instinct to shun the haunts and the presence of man--they
choose for their lairs dark and impenetrable forests--they select for
their habitation a situation whither man has not as yet approached--and
according as the work of settlement and cultivation advances, they
retreat before it into their dark and gloomy fastnesses.

Does the traveller encounter a lion or a tiger? The animal is prompted by
nature to give place to him, and usually slinks off, growling with the
thirst for blood, but still fearing to attack MAN. The shouts of women
and children suffice to scare the fierce and rapacious wolves, as they
descend in troops from the mountains to appease their hunger with victims
from the flocks of the shepherds. The bear meets with the bold hunter or
woodcutter in the American backwoods, but is never known to attack him,
unless the instinct of submission to man is overruled by other instincts
for the time more imperative in their demands. True, if the lion be
_hungry_ when the traveller shall cross his path, he will sometimes,
though such instances are of rare occurrence, attack and devour him.
True, if the wolves are unable to satisfy their appetite by other means,
they will attack and devour human beings; and if the bear be likewise
rendered furious by the calls of hunger, she will treat the woodsman with
little ceremony. Still these instances only show that hunger overcomes
fear--an explanation which no one can refuse to admit. What indeed will
not the gnawings of hunger effect? Has it not caused fathers to butcher
their sons, mothers to devour the infant at their breast? When capable,
then, of overcoming the most powerful of instincts, maternal affection,
and that too in the teeth of reason, how can we wonder at its overcoming
an inferior instinct, and that in a brute animal where there existed
nothing to be overcome beyond that instinct? I might write a vast deal
upon this subject; but my object is merely to show, at starting, that
an instinctive awe of man, and a disposition to yield to his authority,
is inherent in the lower animals. This, then, being the case, it will
readily be perceived that the domestication of any animal by man only
requires that he should carefully remove all obstacles to the operation
of this instinctive principle; and on the other hand, employ suitable
means to strengthen and establish it. There are, doubtless, but few of
my readers who have not witnessed the performances of Van Amburgh, and
likewise those of Van Buren with Batty’s collection. They have, I am
sure, been greatly astonished at the degree of subjection to which these
wild animals were reduced, and they are doubtless curious to learn how
this end was attained. As I happened to make myself acquainted with
the mode in which the subjection of these fierce brutes was effected,
I am happy to be able to render them some information. The treatment
was simple enough. It consisted mainly of two ingredients--1st, ample
feeding, in order that the instinct of appetite should not present itself
in opposition to that of dread of man; and, 2d, liberal chastisement
and severe blows on the slightest appearance of rebellion, in order to
strengthen and firmly establish their awe of him.

I myself have devoted a good deal of time to the domestication of
animals, and by following out the two principles just laid down, I found
myself invariably successful. The polecat, although of inconsiderable
size, is an animal of infinitely greater fierceness than the tiger; yet I
had one so thoroughly domesticated that it was permitted to enjoy perfect
liberty. I succeeded equally with the fox, the badger, and the _otter_,
as a paper which recently appeared in the Penny Journal was designed to
show. In fact, I should say that mere _fierceness_ is but a very slight
obstacle to domestication--_timidity_ is much harder to be overcome.
The timid races of animals require a mode of treatment directly opposed
to the above. They require to have their _dread_ of man diminished, and
their _boldness_ encouraged. If you wish to tame a very timid animal,
instead of supplying it with food you must let it fast, in order to
render it so bold with hunger that it will eat in your presence and from
your hand. If you can get its confidence raised to such a degree that it
will bite you or attempt to do so, so much the better--those little vices
will afterwards be easily eradicated. I have succeeded in familiarizing
the most timid creatures--the rat and the mouse, for instance. The public
has already had an account of how I succeeded with the former of these
animals in the pages of the “Medical Press” and “Naturalist.” Some of
these days I shall give a paper on the latter in the Penny Journal.

Van Amburgh has done much with his animals; but in consequence of
exhibiting with specimens not as yet perfectly subdued, he has met
with some severe accidents. More caution and less haste would have
prevented these. One of the principal ingredients that should enter into
the composition of an animal tamer, is COURAGE. If the animal you are
endeavouring to domesticate perceive that you fear it--and animals are
instinctively sharp-sighted--from that instant all chance of control
ceases. You must be prepared to endure bites, scratches, &c. with, at all
events apparent, recklessness, and should never suffer any thing to delay
your chastisement: the severer it is, the less frequently will you have
to repeat it. Van Amburgh possesses this ingredient in an eminent degree.
I once saw him exhibiting with his superb Barbary lion, since dead; as he
left the cage, the animal rushed at him, and succeeded in inflicting a
sharp scratch upon his hand. Now, had Van Amburgh displayed fear, or in
short acted otherwise than he did, his reign had been over, and the lion
would in all probability have renewed his attack the next opportunity,
and have killed him. But what did he do? He returned into the cage, and
advancing sternly and undauntedly towards the lion, saluted him with a
shower of blows over the head and face, with the small iron rod which he
always carried with him. And mark the result. The brute at once yielded,
quailed before his master, who, planting a foot upon the prostrate body
of his late assailant, coolly wiped the blood from his hand, amidst the
deafening plaudits of the spectators, who had witnessed the appalling
scene with feelings more easily imagined than described.

There is another description of animal taming, which I must not omit to
mention, viz, by charms or drugs. There were, and are indeed still to
be met with, although more rarely than formerly, persons who profess to
be able, by some secret spell or charm, to tame the fiercest horse, or
calm the fury of the most ferocious watch-dog. There are also persons who
follow the trade of rat-catching, and pretend that by means of certain
drugs they can entice away all the rats from the premises to which they
are called in to exercise their skill. There are also a set of men in
India and Persia who profess to charm serpents, and draw them from their
holes. Of these last it is not at present my design to speak. I may,
however, return to them in a future paper.

The first of these, or those who pretend to possess the power of quelling
the spirit of the horse, or appeasing the vigilant fury of the dog, are
now but few in number, and very seldom to be met with. They abounded
more in Ireland than they did in the sister kingdom, and were called
“whisperers.” Perhaps the best mode in which I can bring them and their
practices before my readers, is by giving them an account of the last and
most celebrated whisperer that we recollect. His name was James Sullivan,
and he possessed the power of taming the most furious horse, if left
alone with him for about half an hour. The name of this singular man is
recorded by Townsend in his “Survey of the County of Cork,” and we shall
quote his account of Sullivan’s performances, to which he states himself
to have been an eye-witness:--

“James Sullivan was a native of the county of Cork, and an awkward
ignorant rustic of the lowest class, generally known by the appellation
of ‘the Whisperer;’ and his profession was horse-breaking. The credulity
of the vulgar bestowed that epithet upon him from an opinion that he
communicated his wishes to the animal by means of a whisper, and the
singularity of his method gave some colour to the superstitious belief.
As far as the sphere of his control extended, the boast of _veni, vidi,
vici_, was more justly claimed by James Sullivan than by Cæsar, or even
Bonaparte himself. How his art was acquired, or in what it consisted,
is likely to remain for ever unknown, as he has lately left the world
without divulging it. His son, who follows the same occupation, possesses
but a small portion of the art, having either never learned its true
secret, or being incapable of putting it in practice. The wonder of his
skill consisted in the short time requisite to accomplish his design,
which was performed in private, and without any apparent means of
coercion. Every description of horse, or even mule, whether previously
broke, or unhandled, whatever their peculiar vices or ill habits might
have been, submitted without show of resistance to the magical influence
of his art, and in the short space of half an hour became gentle and
tractable. The effect, though instantaneously produced, was generally
durable; though more submissive to him than to others, yet they seemed
to have acquired a docility unknown before. When sent for to tame a
vicious horse, he directed the stable in which he and the object of his
experiment were placed, to be shut, with orders not to open the door
until a signal was given. After a _tete-a-tete_ between him and the horse
for about half an hour, during which little or no bustle was heard, the
signal was made; and on opening the door, the horse was seen lying down,
and the man by his side, playing familiarly with him, like a child with
a puppy dog. From that time he was found perfectly willing to submit to
discipline, however repugnant to his nature before. Some saw his skill
tried on a horse which could never before be brought to stand for a smith
to shoe him. The day after Sullivan’s half-hour lecture, I went, not
without some incredulity, to the smith’s shop, with many other curious
spectators, where we were eye-witnesses of the complete success of his
art. This, too, had been a troop horse, and it was supposed, not without
reason, that after regimental discipline had failed, no other would
be found availing. I observed that the animal seemed afraid whenever
Sullivan either spoke or looked at him. How that extraordinary ascendancy
could have been obtained, it is difficult to conjecture. In common
cases this mysterious preparation was unnecessary. He seemed to possess
an instinctive power of inspiring awe, the result perhaps of natural
intrepidity, in which I believe a great part of his art consisted;
though the circumstance of the _tete-a-tete_ shows that upon particular
occasions something more must have been added to it. A faculty like this
would in other hands have made a fortune, and great offers have been made
to him for the exercise of his art abroad; but hunting, and attachment to
his native soil, were his ruling passions. He lived at home in the style
most agreeable to his disposition, and nothing could induce him to quit
Dunhallow and the foxhounds.” Other whisperers have lived since Sullivan,
but none of them have attained an equal degree of fame. I met with one
some years ago of the name of O’Hara, and I can truly affirm that his
performances were indeed wonderful, and precisely similar to those of
Sullivan. How O’Hara discovered the secret, I know not; neither am I sure
that it was identical with that possessed by Sullivan. On one occasion,
while under the influence of liquor, O’Hara was heard to declare that the
secret lay in _rocking_ the horse; but on another, when equally tipsy,
he mentioned _biting_ the animal’s ear. It is already I believe known to
those acquainted with horses, that by grasping the shoulder with one hand
just where the mane begins, and laying the other with firmness upon the
crupper, and then swaying the animal backwards and forwards, beginning
with a very gentle motion and gradually increasing it, you will in a
few minutes be able to throw the horse on his side with a comparatively
trifling degree of exertion; and it is certain that this treatment is
frequently resorted to by knowing jockeys to break the spirit of a
stubborn horse; for after having been thrown twice, or at most thrice,
the spirit of the animal seems wholly subdued, and he appears possessed
with the most unqualified respect and dread of the person who threw him.
This was in all probability what O’Hara meant by _rocking_, and I have
little doubt but that this was one of the component parts, at all events,
of the treatment resorted to by the whisperers. As to _biting the ear_,
I have seen this tried, and that successfully. If you succeed in getting
the ear of the most vicious horse between your teeth, and bite it with
all your force, you will find the rage of the animal suddenly subside,
his spirit will appear to have forsaken him, and a word or a look from
you will cause him to start and tremble with excess of terror. Once the
ferocity of an animal is removed, it is an easy matter to conciliate his
affections. May not these two modes of treatment combined, or one or the
other, as the occasion seemed to require, have constituted the secret of
the wonder-working whisperers? The suggestion is at least plausible, and
the experiment should be fully tried ere it be rejected.

In an article which appeared lately on the subject of animal taming in
the _Times_ newspaper, mention is made of Mr King, owner of the “learned
horse” at present exhibiting in London. This person states that his
secret depends upon pressing a certain nerve in the horse’s mouth, which
he calls the “nerve of susceptibility.” May not the set of whispering
have likewise depended upon compressing with the teeth some similar nerve
in the ear?

                                                                 H. D. R.




RELICS.

BY J. U. U.


“Raphael was buried in the Pantheon (Sta. Maria della Rotunda), in
a chapel which he had himself endowed, and near the place where his
betrothed bride had been laid. The immediate neighbourhood was afterwards
selected by other painters as their place of rest. Baldassane Peruzzi,
Giovanni da Udine, Pierino del Vaga, Taddeo Zuccaro, and others, are
buried near. No question had ever existed as to the precise spot
where the remains of the master lay; but a few years since the Roman
antiquaries began to raise doubts even respecting the church in which
Raphael was buried. In the end, permission was obtained to make actual
search; and Vasari’s account was in this instance verified. The tomb was
found as he describes it, behind the altar itself of the chapel above
mentioned. Four views of the tomb and its contents were engraved from
drawings by Cammucini, and thus preserve the appearance that presented
itself. The shroud had been fastened with a number of metal rings and
points; some of these were kept by the sculptor Fabrio of Rome, who is
also in possession of casts from the skull and right hand. Passavant
remarks, judging from the cast, that the skull was of a singularly fine
form. The bones of the hand were all perfect, but they crumbled into
dust after the mould was taken. The skeleton measured about five feet
seven inches. The coffin was extremely narrow, indicating a very slender
frame. The precious relics were ultimately restored to the same spot,
after being placed in a magnificent sarcophagus, presented by the present
Pope.”--_Quarterly Review._

    Ay, there are glorious things even in the dust
    Which still must ever from the human heart
    Win homage next devotion. ’Tis in vain
    To ask the wherefore, or demand what are they
    Amid the keen realities of life?
    Old coin, or broken casque, or fretted stone--
    The waste of Time--the rack upon life’s shore
    Thrown up by the spent waves of centuries--
    They have no meaning in the vulgar tongue;
    Their very uses know them not--things past
    Into the chaos of forgotten forms.
    But here the root of this deep error lies.

    The world’s deep Lethé onward blindly glides,
    A perishable Present! glorious only
    Because no Future and no Past are seen
    To scare or shame its dreamy voyager.
    In dull forgetfulness the error lies,
    That hath no feeling of the mighty Past
    Espoused to sense, and purblind as the mole
    To all that meets the intellectual eye:
    To such Iona is a heap of stones,
    And Marathon a desert …
                          … O, how changed!
    The meanest thing on which great Time hath set
    His awful stamp (the long-surviving thought
    Left by the mind of other days) appears
    To knowledge and the gaze of memory,
    More instantaneous than those words of power
    Which ancient legends say the tomb obeyed--
    The broken pillar, and the moss-grown pile,
    Dilate into antique magnificence:
    At once the stern old rampart crowns its height--
    The donjon keep, the tower of ancient pride,
    The rock-built fortress of old robber kings,
    Start into life, and from their portals pour
    Mailed foray forth, or pomp of feudal war.
    The temple swells from vacancy, o’erarching
    With pillared roof, and dim solemnity,
    The worship of old time. The dry bones live
    Of ancient ages: monarch, sage, and bard,
    Stand in their living lineaments, invested
    With power, or wisdom, or the gift of song.

    These still are common ruins--the remains
    Of those who were the vulgar of their day,
    Who battled, built, and traded, and so died,
    Leaving no trace but nameless monuments,
    The cast attire of ages, which but serve
    To show the present how the past went mad,
    And, like Cassandra, prophesy in vain.
    The earth yet bears more glorious vestiges
    Of Time’s illustrious few, whose memory
    Is greater than the greatest thing that lives--
    Haloed by veneration, wonder, love--
    Whose very tombs stand in life’s calendar
    Eras of thought once seen. Is there an eye
    Could coldly gaze on aught that bears a trace
    Of Avon’s matchless master of the breast?
    Who could approach old Dryburgh’s tombs, and feel not
    The illustrious presence of his great compeer,
    Whose tomb yet moistens with a nation’s woe,
    Whose star is young in heaven? Or who can walk
    Unmoved the cloisters and religious aisles
    Where Milton lies, renowned with “prophets old,”
    And honoured Newton, to whom the starred vault
    Is an enduring monument, as much
    As the Pantheon’s dome is Angelo’s?

    What is the pride of kings, the world’s vain splendour,
    To such a presence as they witnessed there
    Who disinterred the bones of Raphael,
    Awful from the repose of centuries?
    There stood that day a solemn, anxious crowd
    Around that altar which conceals beneath
    The mighty master’s relics--for there was a doubt
    If it were truly there that he was laid.
    And there they found all the dull grave could keep
    Of that Immortal. With no common awe
    They bent o’er his dark cell, as it disclosed
    Its treasure to the selfsame holy light
    That gladdened oft of old the master’s heart,
    And waked his heaven-eyed genius; while beneath
    The shadowy splendour of that spacious dome
    He stood in living sanctity, a pure
    And heavenly-minded man--even where they stood
    To gaze upon his dust--and all around
    He scattered bright and hallowed images
    Of perfect beauty--in their brightness there
    Still lying as he left them. Shadows fair
    Of angel form and feature--ye who gaze
    In clouded splendour through those cloisters old,
    Looking as things of life--could ye behold
    Those slender bones, they were the living hand
    Beneath whose touch ye started into being
    And grew to light and beauty, covering
    Your storied frescoes with the lines of grace,
    Harmonious hues and features of the sky.
    And yonder is your birthplace, yon light skull--
    The slight and delicate shrine of all that mind!
    ’Tis a strange thought how vast a world resolved
    In thy small compass! Senseless as thou art,
    Who could behold thee as a mouldering bone,
    The mere dust of unsphered humanity?
    There, from that lowly cell as rose to light
    The canonized remains of one whose mind
    Hath been a worship to the eye of ages,
    They were not seen thus coldly--time gave back
    Its venerable honours registered
    Deep in the heart of living Italy--
    A crown of many-tinted sanctities.
    Thy beauty, goodness, and pure innocence,
    Thy faculty of vision, gift divine,
    Rushed round thee as a glory--thou wert seen
    With all thy laurels round thy honoured tomb.
    Thine is no pile of unrecording stone--
    Pale marble column or tall pyramid,
    That vainly robs oblivion of its prey:
    Thy name lives on each lip--thy monuments
    Are treasures fondly kept midst precious things,
    Sought out in every land which the sun warms
    To nobler thoughts--thine are perennial wreaths
    Of trophies yet surviving, when the fame
    Of fields that rang through Europe, and made pale
    The peaceful hamlets of an hundred realms,
    Have shrunk within the fretted register,
    The silent scroll, named History--still the halls
    Of national state or regal pomp are bright
    With thy far-sought creations, costliest
    Among the treasured trophies of the mind;
    And as thy time on earth was consecrated
    To sacred labours meet for holy walls--
    So would I deem thy gifted spirit still,
    Invested in its light of heavenly thoughts,
    The minister of some pure temple, where
    No human errors mingle with the work.




ON THE POWER OF FLUIDS.


That weight is a property of liquids, has been acknowledged by the
earliest observers; but the amount of that weight, its mode of acting,
and application to practice, have been left for recent times to discover.
A pint of water weighs somewhat more than a pound avoirdupois; and one
unacquainted with the facts in hydrostatics might deem it of little
consequence what shape the vessel that contained it might be, or what
the disposition and length of the column of water--for, after all, what
is it but a pound of water? No idea can be more erroneous. Under most
circumstances, it is not so much the quantity of the fluid as the manner
in which its particles are disposed, that determines its weight; and what
may appear still more extraordinary, a small quantity of fluid may be
made to balance, that is, to be of the same apparent weight as, a very
large quantity. This may be proved by taking a pair of scales, putting a
tumbler full of water into one dish, and balancing it by weights in the
other, then inverting a smaller glass and immersing it in the tumbler,
having the glass perfectly supported in the hand to prevent it touching
the sides or bottom; a portion of the water will now flow over the sides
of the tumbler--say one-half--yet the scales are still balanced; one-half
of the water is of the same weight apparently as the whole. A piece
of wood may be used instead of the glass with the same result, and it
may be of a size nearly to fill the cavity of the tumbler; yet if the
remaining water, which may amount to no more than a couple of spoonfuls,
rise to the same level as it did when full, it will exactly balance the
weights. This cannot be accounted for by saying that the wood or the
glass was equal to the water displaced, for if we use lead, which is
much heavier, or cork, and even card, which are much lighter, we shall
meet with no difference. This property belongs to the water; and as the
only constant fact was the same height of the fluid, to it must the
explanation be referred; and we thus arrive at a first principle, a law
in hydrostatics--that the pressure, or weight considered as a power, of
any fluid, is not in proportion to its quantity, but to its depth.

Aware of this principle, if we wish to use water as a power, we can
economize it wonderfully, exerting a great pressure with a small
quantity. If we take a small wooden box, water-tight, bore a hole in it,
and fill it with water, adapt a long narrow tube to the hole, and fill
it up with water, the box will now be burst, and that by the very small
quantity contained in the tube. This tube may be a yard long, and very
narrow in diameter, not holding more than two ounces of fluid, yet the
pressure, being always in proportion to its depth, is the same as if it
had been as broad as the box. This pressure amounts to nearly one pound
on the square inch for every two feet of water. In the deepest parts of
the ocean the pressure must be exceedingly great, so much so that it is
probable they are uninhabitable, the pressure being too great for the
existence of fishes. This pressure, together with the total absence of
light at great depths, renders the existence of vegetable life also a
doubtful matter. There is a certain depth beyond which divers cannot
go, owing to the pressure of water on the surface of their chests being
greater than the resistance of air inside, respiration being thereby
impeded.

A pipe a yard long, and acting on a yard square of fluid, will give a
pressure equal to the weight of fifteen cwt. if we use water. Should we
use quicksilver, the power of a ton weight may be obtained within the
space of a square foot in breadth, by a tube somewhat less than three
feet long, and not larger than a common goose quill--the pressure per
square inch in these cases depending on the height of the column of fluid.

We can now understand what extensive and sometimes irremediable injury
may arise from the collection of a small but lofty column of water,
opening into a wide but confined space below. This sometimes occurs
when water gets into a narrow chink between buildings, and, finding its
way down, opens finally into some cavity under the floor. The pressure
exerted here is immense, and there are few bodies able to resist it. It
is owing to this that the pipes for conveying water are burst, on account
of the pressure exerted on the insides of the pipes; and this occurs the
more frequently, the higher the source from which they are filled. In
practice, every vessel containing liquid should increase in strength in
proportion to its depth. We have no doubt that a process similar to this
takes place on the large scale in nature, which is capable of uprooting
trees, rending rocks, producing earthquakes; for if we suppose that some
collections of water on the surface of a hill have found their way down
through crevices into a cavity in the body of the mountain which has no
external opening, as long as this cavity remains unfilled no evil arises,
but when it and the crevices also are completely filled, the pressure
exercised here is so immense, that even the sides of the hill cannot
withstand it. Perhaps this occurrence has not been sufficiently noticed
in explaining natural phenomena. It is usual to consider earthquakes and
volcanoes as solely the result of chemical action, excluding entirely
physical agency.

The pressure of water may be rendered visible by blowing through a
tube under water into a tall glass jar. The bubble of air, small at
the bottom, as it rises, gradually enlarges from the diminution of the
pressure.

The hydrostatic bellows, formed upon this principle, consists of nothing
more than a water-tight bellows, with a long pipe fixed into the valve
aperture. If this pipe be three feet long, and hold a quarter of a pint
of fluid, it will exert a pressure sufficient to raise three cwt. laid
upon a bellows, the area of the upper side of which is equal to about a
square foot and a half. Many are the uses to which this principle might
be applied in the several arts.

Bramah’s Press is almost the only machine which has been extensively
used. By its means solid bars of iron can be cut through with ease. Hay
and cotton have been compressed by its means into a very small compass.
In the East Indies, where water-power is used, bales of cotton are
compressed into one-half the size of those from the West Indies. By its
means power may be multiplied, or rather concentrated, a thousand-fold.
As commonly made, a man working it may, by using the same force that
would raise half a cwt., apply a force amounting to twenty tons to the
work in hand; and by varying the proportions of the machine, pressure
might be brought to bear upon any body which would be perfectly
irresistible.

There is, however, in reality, be it distinctly understood, no power
absolutely gained; but the man’s force is _concentrated_, as for instance
in compressing the bale of cotton, to an extent which, if the ordinary
mechanical powers of the lever or screw were employed, would require the
aid of ponderous machinery.

Mr Bramah was therefore greatly mistaken when he published it as the
discovery of a new mechanical power: but he invented a beautiful and most
effective means of simply accumulating a prodigious force by the very
simple means of the hydrostatic pressure of fluids.

Hydraulic or Bramah presses are applied in New York and other American
ports for the purpose of raising large vessels on strong wooden platforms
out of the water, for effecting repairs, &c. They are also employed in
removing houses--some of them brick, and three stories high--from one
part of a street to another. In this case strong wooden beams, like the
ways used in ship-launching, are placed under the house, and in the
direction of the intended site, and hydraulic presses are then employed
for pushing the house along, with prodigious force, and so gradually
and gently as not even to crack the plaster of a room ceiling. By
the same means the roof of a large cotton factory near Aberdeen was
raised _entire_, and an additional story added to the building, without
displacing a single slate! In this instance the roof was lifted gradually
about four inches at a time, progressing from end to end of the building,
the height of the walls being increased by a single row of bricks at a
time.

Such are a few of the results of a single principle, a rule to which
there is no exception, which holds equally good in the organic as in the
inorganic world. Even the blood-vessels of the body are subject to this
law--the sides of all vessels below the level of the heart enduring an
additional outward pressure of half an ounce for every inch in height,
which at the toes would amount to somewhere about two pounds. When a
person stands erect in a bath, the pressure on all parts of the body is
not equal; it is greater upon the legs than upon the trunk; the former
are pressed upward, and hence in part the difficulty experienced in
standing upon the bottom in deep water.

                                                                    T. A.

       *       *       *       *       *

DISAGREEABLE PEOPLE.--Some persons are of so teazing and fidgetty a turn
of mind, that they do not give you a moment’s rest. Everything goes
wrong with them. They complain of a headache or the weather. They take
up a book, and lay it down again--venture an opinion, and retract it
before they have half done--offer to serve you, and prevent some one else
from doing it. If you dine with them at a tavern, in order to be more
at your ease, the fish is too little done--the sauce is not the right
one; they ask for a sort of wine which they think is not to be had, or
if it is, after some trouble, procured, do not touch it; they give the
waiter fifty contradictory orders, and are restless and sit on thorns
the whole of dinner time. All this is owing to a want of robust health,
and of a strong spirit of enjoyment; it is a fastidious habit of mind,
produced by a valetudinary habit of body: they are out of sorts with
everything, and of course their ill-humour and captiousness communicates
itself to you, who are as little delighted with them as they are with
other things. Another sort of people, equally objectionable with this
helpless class, who are disconcerted by a shower of heaven’s rain, or
stopped by an insect’s wing, are those who, in the opposite spirit, will
have every thing their own way, and carry all before them--who cannot
brook the slightest shadow of opposition--who are always in the heat of
an argument, unless where they disdain your understanding so much as not
to condescend to argue with you--who knit their brows and roll their eyes
and clench their teeth in some speculative discussion, as if they were
engaged in a personal quarrel--and who, though successful over almost
every competitor, seem still to resent the very offer of resistance to
their supposed authority, and are as angry as if they had sustained some
premeditated injury. There is an impatience of temper and an intolerance
of opinion in this that conciliates neither our affection nor esteem.
To such persons nothing appears of any moment but the indulgence of a
domineering intellectual superiority, to the disregard and discomfiture
of their own and everybody else’s comfort. Mounted on an abstract
proposition, they trample on every courtesy and decency of behaviour;
and though, perhaps, they do not intend the gross personalities they are
guilty of, yet they cannot be acquitted of a want of due consideration
for others, and of an intolerable egotism in the support of truth and
justice. You may hear one of these impetuous declaimers pleading the
cause of humanity in a voice of thunder, or expatiating on the beauty of
a Guido, with features distorted with rage and scorn. This is not a very
amiable or edifying spectacle.--_Hazlitt’s Table-Talk._

       *       *       *       *       *

NECESSITY OF A THOROUGH EDUCATION.--Good education being a preparation
for social life, necessarily embraces the whole man--body, head, and
heart--for in social life the whole man is necessarily called into
exertion in one way or another almost every hour. But this is not
sufficient. There must be no preponderance, as well as no exclusion; a
limited or biassed education produces monsters. Some are satisfied with
the cultivation of a single faculty--some with the partial cultivation
of each. A child is trained up to working; he is hammered into a hardy
laborer--a stout material for the physical bone and muscle of the
state. This is good, so far as it goes; but it is bad, because it goes
no farther. He is not taught reading; he is not taught religion; above
all, he is not taught thinking. He never looks into his other self; he
soon forgets its existence; the man becomes all body; his intellectual
and moral being lies fallow. The growth of such a system will be a
sturdy race of machines--delvers and soldiers, but not men: so much
brute physical energy swinging loosely through society at the discretion
of those more spiritual natures to whom their education, neglected or
perverted in another way, gives wickedness with power, and teaches the
secrets of mind only as instruments to crush or bend men for their own
selfish purposes. Others educate the intellectual and moral being only;
the physical, once the building is raised, like an idle scaffolding,
is cast by. But the omission is injurious--often fatal: malady is laid
up, in all its thousand forms, in the infant and the child. It spreads
out upon the man. When his spirit is in the flush of its strength, and
his moral rivals his intellectual nature in compass and power, then it
is that the despised portion of his being rises up and avenges itself
for this contempt. The studious man feels, as he walks down life, a
thousand minute retaliations for the prodigal waste of his youthful
vigour. The body bows down beneath the burden of the mind; it wears
gradually away into weakness and incompetency; clouds of sickness,
pangs of pain, obscure, distort, weigh it to the earth. Health is not
a thing of organization only, but of training; it is to be laid up bit
by bit. We are to be _made_ healthy--tutored and practised into health.
Omit health in favour of the intellectual and moral faculties, and
you provide instruments, it is true, for mind, but instruments which,
when wanted, cannot be used. Intellectual and moral education may rank
before physical, but they are not more essential; the physical powers
are the hewers of wood and the drawers of water for the spiritual. The
base of the column is in the earth; but, without it, neither could the
shaft stand firm above it, nor the capital ascend to the sky.--_Wyse on
Education._

       *       *       *       *       *

HOME.--The great end of prudence is to give cheerfulness to those hours
which splendour cannot gild, and acclamation cannot exhilarate. Those
soft intervals of unbended amusement, in which a man shrinks to his
natural dimensions, and throws aside the ornaments or disguises which
he feels in privacy to be useless incumbrances, and to lose all effect
when they become familiar. To be happy at home is the ultimate result
of all ambition, the end to which every enterprise and labour tends,
and of which every desire prompts the prosecution. It is indeed at home
that every man must be known by those who would make a just estimate of
his virtue or felicity; for smiles and embroidery are alike occasional,
and the mind is often dressed for show in painted honour and fictitious
benevolence.--_Johnson._

       *       *       *       *       *

If it were enacted that only persons of high rank should dine upon three
dishes, the lower sort would desire to have three; but if commoners were
permitted to have as many dishes as they pleased, whilst the nobility
were limited to two, the inferior sort would not exceed that number. An
order to abolish the wearing of jewels has set a whole country in an
uproar; but if the order had only prohibited earrings to ladies of the
first quality, other women would not have desired to wear them.--_The
Reflector._

       *       *       *       *       *

The very consciousness of being beloved by the object of our attachment,
will disarm of its terrors even death itself.--_D’Israeli._

       *       *       *       *       *

The petty sovereign of an insignificant tribe of North America every
morning stalks out of his hovel, bids the sun good morrow, and points out
to him with his finger the course he is to take for the day.

       *       *       *       *       *

Love labour; if you do not want it for food, you may for physic.

       *       *       *       *       *

Industry often prevents what lazy folly thinks inevitable. Industry
argues an ingenuous, great, and generous disposition of soul, by
unweariedly pursuing things in the fairest light, and disdains to enjoy
the fruit of other men’s labours without deserving it.

       *       *       *       *       *

He who lies under the dominion of any one vice must expect the common
effects of it. If lazy, to be poor; if intemperate, to be diseased; if
luxurious, to die betimes, &c.

       *       *       *       *       *

With discretion the vicious preserve their honour, and without it the
virtuous lose it.

       *       *       *       *       *

A good conscience is the finest opiate.--_Knox._

       *       *       *       *       *

    Printed and published every Saturday by GUNN and CAMERON, at
    the Office of the General Advertiser, No. 6, Church Lane,
    College Green, Dublin.--Agents:--R. GROOMBRIDGE, Panyer Alley,
    Paternoster Row, London; SIMMS and DINHAM, Exchange Street,
    Manchester; C. DAVIES, North John Street, Liverpool; J. DRAKE,
    Birmingham; SLOCOMBE & SIMMS, Leeds; FRAZER and CRAWFORD,
    George Street, Edinburgh; and DAVID ROBERTSON, Trongate,
    Glasgow.





End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Irish Penny Journal, Vol. 1 No.
25, December 19, 1840, by Various

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