In Parrots (undescribed) &c. &c. charge of these and other marvels, is a young Mexican Indian, probably the first who has visited Europe since the days of Cortez, and certainly the first who has visited Britain. He can read and write the Mexican language, and even partially interpreted the MSS. While augmenting the stores of the vegetable and animal kingdom, it was not to be imagined that our enthusiastic countryman would neglect the mineral world, in which Mexico is, perhaps, richer than all the universe besides. Her mines form her distinguishing character; and will soon, in all likelihood (since British and American capital has been set to work upon them,) renew her wealth and importance as a nation. The mineral kingdom is, nevertheless, more profuse and valuable, We may here mention, that Mr. Allaman, the present Minister and a man of science, who has been in Europe, was Mr. Bullock's great patron in the country, and to him the public are chiefly in debted for the antiquities brought over. He had some of them dug up at the expense of the government, and was so pleased with the proceedings of Mr. B. that he furnished him with his own drawings to copy, and to confirm the intercourse, was the means of obtaining for him gratuitously, a silver nine, which that gentleman is now working under the superintendence of his son. Great contracts are now entering upon to work the long disused and ruined mines. The great mine of Valenciana is now English property (we believe Messrs. Barclay's): it has produced more than any mine in the world; in some years, of old, the profits are said to have been a million and a half sterling. than rare and beautiful. What there is, Mr. B. has been fortunate in obtaining. His cases comprise the whole collection of the Conde de Valentiniana, the crystals, &c. of Mr. Wilcox, the American Consul, and all those collected by Dr. Cervantes, the professor of natural history; besides other curious specimens. Still, however, to us the most interesting parts of his acquisitions remain to be described: We allude to his manuscripts religious emblems, &c. :historical documents of the time of Cortez, in the shape of rude pictures; pictures still more rude, detailing (obviously, and quite intelligibly to the mind through the eye) the early, perhaps original, migrations and settlements of the Mexican tribes; emblematical writings; maps; casts of the stupendous idols which they worshipped, and the lesser idols themselves, so curiously and elaborately carved in the hardest materials, that we wonder how they could possibly be executed with the native tools; and a multitude of other extraordinary things, the bare enumeration of which would extend this paper to an inconvenient length. We therefore conclude for the present, and promise our friends another article on the same subject. STANZAS.-HE NEVER SMIL'D AGAIN. (Lond. Lit. Gaz.) "Henry I. (after the loss of Prince William) entertained hopes, for three days, that his son bad put into some distant port of England; but when certain intelligence of the calamity was brought him, he fainted away; and it was remarked, that he never afterwards was seen to smile, nor ever recovered his wonted cheerfulness."-Hume. The bark that held a Prince went down, The sweeping waves roll'd on; And what was England's glorious crown He lived-for life may long be borne Why comes not Death to those that mourn? There stood proud forms around his throne, But which could fill the place of one, Before him pass'd the young and fair In Pleasure's reckless train; But seas dash'd o'er his son's bright hair,— He never smil'd again! He sat where festal bowls went round, A murmur of the restless deep Seem'd blent with every strain, A voice of winds that would not sleep→→ Hearts, in that time, clos'd o'er the trace Graves which true love had wash'd with tears Fresh hopes were born for other years- NARRATIVE OF A COMMON SOLDIER. (Lon. Mag.) RECOLLECTIONS OF AN EVENTFUL LIFE CHIEFLY PASSED IN THE ARMY. BY A SOLDIER. THOUGH, in some instances, rather coarse in style, this is apparently a genuine, and certainly a very natural and vivid picture of the class of society to which the lowly station of its author chiefly limited his observations. We say chiefly, because there is a degree of acuteness and good sense about his remarks, strongly characteristic of his native Scotland, where the lower orders are taught in their youth what never fails to be useful in extending their views through life, and shows them at its close, in their old age, informed above their condition;-a shrewd, sensible, and intelligent race of men. The story is various, adventurous, and often possesses a strong interest in consequence of its truth and fidelity. Where it fails, it is in a literary quality; and for this it would be too severe to condemn a writer who comes before us in the red coat of a common soldier, and not in an academic gown or erudite wig. We shall not therefore censure the certain ambitious attempts at the pathetic or grandiloquent which struck us as we read this book; nor contrast them with the very plain description of sea-sickness, or the vulgar oaths of warlike Hectors and Trullas, which a little good advice would have induced the author to soften down so as to be more fit for eyes and ears polite. In a slightly and quite irregularly educated man, these blemishes are venial; and encouraging his honest aspirations for distinction as a public writer, it will afford us more pleasure to point out its merits than his faults. James was born in Glasgow, of mean but respectable parents. From his infancy he seems to have been a headstrong and inconsiderate boy. Af ter relating some circumstances not much to his credit, he describes his running off to sea with his companion; a voyage to the West Indies, storms, accidents, &c. &c.; and his return, somewhat sobered as to his ideas of the world and its pursuits. A feeling of shame, however, induces him again to leave home, and he enlists as a soldier. His description of joining the regiment; and the plunder by crimps, sergeants, and comrades, is a curious and (we take it) faithful description of such affairs; and not unworthy to be placed aside the naval picture of a Middy's Introduction to the other service, (which will begiven in our next.) But we shall rather select, to illustrate the volume, parts of the detail of the troops embarking for Portugal. "We had been about three months in Jersey, when the order came for our embarkation for Portugal; but only six women to every hundred men were allowed to accompany us. As there were, however, a great many more than that number, it was ordered that they should draw lots, to see who should remain. The women of the company to which I belonged were assembled in the pay-sergeant's room for that purpose. The men of the company had gathered round them, to see the result, with various degrees of interest depicted in their countenances. The proportionate number of tickets were made with 'to go,' or 'not to go' written on them. They were then placed in a hat, and the women were called by their seniority to draw to their tickets. I looked round me before they began. It was an interesting scene. The sergeant stood in the middle with the hat in his hand, the women around him, with their hearts palpitating, and anxiety and suspense in every countenance. Here and there you would see the head of a married man pushed forward, from amongst the crowd, in the attitude of intense anxiety and attention. "The first woman called, was the sergeant's wife-she drew not to go.' It seemed to give little concern to any one but herself and her husband. She was not very well liked in the company. The next was a corporal's wifeshe drew 'to go.' This was received by all with nearly as much apathy as the first. She was little beloved either, "The next was an old hand, a most outrageous virago, who thought nothing of giving her husband a knock down when he offended her, and who used to make great disturbance about the fire, in the cooking way. Every one uttered their wishes audibly that she would lose; and her husband, if we could judge from his countenance, seemed to wish so too. She boldly plunged her hand into the hat, and drew out a ticket: on opening it, she held it up triumphantly, and displayed 'To go.' 'Dn you,' said she, 'old Meg will go yet, and live to scald more of you about the fire-side.' A general murmur of disappointment ran through the whole. Dn the old bh,' said some of them, 'she has the devil's luck and her own.' “The next in turn was the wife of a young man, who was much respected in the company for his steadiness and good behaviour. She was remarkable for her affection for her husband, and beloved by the whole company for her modest and obliging disposition. She advanced, with a palpitating heart and trembling hand, to decide on (what was to her, I believe) her future happiness or misery. Every one prayed for her success. Trembling between fear and hope, she drew out one of the tickets, and attempted to open it; but her hand shook so that she could not do it. She handed it to one of the men to open. When he opened it, his countenance fell, and he hesitated to say what it was. She cried out to him, in a tone of agony, 'Tell me, for God's sake, what it is.' 'Not to go,' said he, in a compassionate tone of voice. Oh, God, help me! oh, Sandy!' she exclaimed, and sunk lifeless into the arms of her husband, who had sprung for ward to her assistance, and in whose face was now depicted every variety of wretchedness. The drawing was in terrupted, and she was carried by her husband to his birth, where he hung over her in frantic agony. By the assistance of those around her, she was soon recovered from her swoon; but she awoke only to a sense of her misery. The first thing she did was to look round for her husband, when she perceived him she seized his hand, and held it, as if she was afraid that he was going to leave her. Oh, Sandy, you'll no leave me and your poor baby will you?' The poor fellow looked in her face with a look of agony and despair. "The scene drew tears from every eye in the room, with the exception of the termagant whom I have already mentioned, who said, "What are ye a' makin' sic a wark about? let the babie get her greet out. I suppose she thinks there's naebody ever parted with their men but her. Wi' her faintin,' and her airs, and her wark.'. "The drawing was again commenced, and various were the expressions of feelings evinced by those concerned. The Irish women in particular, were loud in their grief. It always appeared to me that the Irish either feel more than the Scotch or English, or that they have less restraint on themselves in expressing it. The barrack, through the rest of the day, was one continued scene of lamentation. ... "We were to march the next morning early. The most of the single men were away drinking. I slept in the birth above Sandy and his wife. They never went to bed, but sat the whole night in their birth, with their only child between them, alternately embracing their child and each other, and lamenting their cruel fortune. I never witnessed in my life such a heart-rending scene. The poor fellow tried to assume some firmness; but in vain: some feeling expression from her would throw him off his guard, and at last his grief became quite uncontrollable. In "When the first bugle sounded, he got up, and prepared his things. Here a new source of grief sprung up. laying aside the articles which he intended to leave, and which they had used together, the idea seemed fixed in her mind, that they would never use them in that way again; and as she put them aside, she watered them with her tears. Her tea-pot, her cups, and every thing that they had used in common, all had their apostrophe of sorrow. He tried to persuade her to remain in the barrack, as we had six miles to travel to the place of embarkation ; but she said she would take the last minute in his company that she could. "The regiment fell in, and marched off, amid the wailing of those who, having two or three children, could not accompany us to the place of embarkation. Many of the men had got so much intoxicated that they were scarcely able to walk. The commanding officer was so displeased at their conduct, that in coming through St. Helier's he would not allow the band to play. "When we arrived at the place where we were to embark, a most distressing scene took place, in the men parting with their wives. Some of them indeed it did not appear to affect much: others had got themselves nearly tipsy; but the most of them seemed to feel acutely. When Sandy's wife came to take her last farewell, she lost all government of her grief. She clung to him with a despairing hold. Oh, dinna, dinna leave me!' she cried. The vessel was hauling out. One of the sergeants came to tell her that she would have to go ashore, 'Oh, they'll never be so hard-hearted as to part us,' said she; and running aft to the quarter-deck, where the commanding officer was standing, she sunk down on her knees with her child in her arms. 'Oh, will you no let me gang wi' my husband? Will ye tear him frae his wife and his wean? He has nae frien's but us-nor we ony but him—and, oh, will you mak' us a frien'less? See my wee babie pleadin' for us.' "The officer felt a painful struggle between his duty and his feelings: the tears came into his eyes. She eagerly caught at this as favourable to her cause. Oh, aye, I see you have a feeling heart-you'll let me gang wi' him. You have nae wife; but, if you had, I am sure you wad think it unco hard to be torn frae her this way—and this wee darlin.' 'My good woman, (said the officer) I feel for you much; but my orders are peremptory, that no more than six women to each hundred men go with their husbands. You have had your chance as well as the other women; and, although, it is hard enough on you to be separated from your husband, yet there are many more in the same predicament; and it is totally out of my power to help it.' 25 ATHENEUM VOL. 1. 2d series. Well, well,' said she, rising from her her knees, and straining her infant to her breast; 'It's a' owre wi' us, my puir babie; this day leaves us frien❜less on the wide world.' "God will be your friend,' said I, as I took the child from her until she could get into the boat. Sandy had stood, like a person bewildered, all this time without saying a word. 6 Farewell then, a last farewell then,' said she to him: Where's my babie?' she cried. I handed him to her- Give him a last kiss, Sandy.' He pressed the infant to his bosom in silent agony. Now a's owre; fare well, Sandy! we'll maybe meet in heaven;' and she stepped into the boat with a wild despairing look. The vessel was now turning the pier, and she was almost out of our sight in an instant; but, as we got the last glimpse of her, she uttered a shriek, the knell of a broken heart, which rings in my ears at this moment. Sandy rushed down below, and threw himself into one of the births, in a state of feelings which defies description. Poor fellow, his wife's forebodings were too true! He was amongst the first that was killed in Portugal! What became of her, I have never been able to learn." Having thus far made our readers acquainted with the Soldier's narrative, we shall not proceed farther with so short a book; but content ourselves with quoting three of his anecdotes, and protesting against the Scottish misuse of will, would, &c. for shall, should, &c. in almost every page. At Lisbon, James and a friend Dennis, a worthy Irish soldier, met a procession of the host. "Poor Dennis (we are told) was sadly puzzled the first time he met one of these parties: he was a catholic, and of course could not avoid following the example of the christians around him; but he had a great aversion to kneeling in the dirty streets. The procession was fast advancing, and he had been two or three times half down on his knees and up again; at last, a lucky thought struck him-he snatched the hat out of the hand of the Portuguese that was kneeling before him, and, deliberately placing it on the ground, kneeled down on it, and went through the ceremony tin, contents and all, out of the tent with great gravity-thus saving both door, exclaiming, Tam their coffee! his conscience and his breeches. The you might as weel chow heather, and fellow who owned the hat durst not drink pog water as that teevil's stuff. move until the procession had passed; Gi'e Donal a cog o' brochan before ony and then, without giving him time to o' your tea or coffees either.'" speak, Dennis clapped the hat, dirty as it was, on the owner's head, and walked off." During the campaign, "We generally turned out for the working party, at five o'clock in the morning; and our breakfast, which was coffee with bread, was always ready at that hour. I remember, the first time we had it, each man came forward with his mess-tin for his allowance, which was measured out by the cook. We had a Highlandman in the company, who had enlisted raw from his native hills, and who, I believe, had never seen any thing of the kind before. When he came for his allowance of the coffee, which was now nearly done, the cook was skimming it off the top very carefully, to avoid stirring up the grounds. Donald, who thought this a scheme to keep all the good part to himself, exclaimed, Tam your plood! will you'll no gie some o' the sik as well as the sin Oh, certainly,' said the cook (who was a bit of a wag); and, stirring the grounds well up, he gave him a double portion. Donald came in, chuckling with satisfaction at having detected the knavery of the cook, saying, 'If she'll socht to sheat a highlandman, she'll be far mistook." And seeing the rest of his comrades breaking bread in their coffee, he did the same: by this time the eye of every one in the tent was on him, scarcely able to refrain from laughing. Donald began to sup it with his spoon; but, after taking two or three spoonfuls, grinding the coffee grounds between his teeth, and making wry faces, he threw Our last anecdote is also a campaigning one, and not badly matched with poor Donald's coffee : "We had not long taken up our quarters in the village, where our whole brigade was, when a peasant entered it driving a flock of sheep before him. In a moment, a race was made amongst them by some of the soldiers. Others, stimulated by their example, followed; and, in a few minutes, officers and men promiscuously could be seen scrambling for the mutton. Dennis joined the throng, and had seized one of them, at the same moment that an officer of the Irish regiment in the brigade made a grasp at it. 'Give me that sheep, sir,' said the officer in an authoritative tone. 'Arrah, be aisy, honey,' said Dennis. Kill a Hessian for yourself, if you plase."* The officer relinquished his claim, and pursued another. The poor Portuguese shepherd stood like a statue, not knowing well what to do. At last, when he found himself relieved from all his charge, he went away, muttering curses on the ladrones Englese,' to make his complaint to the general." We trust these extracts will recommend our soldier to good-liking, and that his little literary labour will be rewarded with a bounty worthy of the British public. "A common expression amongst Irishmen. I asked Dennis what it meant. He said that, during landed in Ireland, and an United Man,' having the rebellion, a number of Hessian soldiers had been shot one of them, was busy plundering him, whea Hessian for yourself, my gay fellow,' was the reply." one of his comrades came and asked share. Kill a old among the Germans; for, in ancient times, almost every people conferred the civil command upon the old men. Afterwards, the command having become hereditary, the title of cheik, grof, seigneur, or count, has been given to children; and the Germans call a little master of four years old, the Count, that is, the old gentleman. |