before, from the mere outward deportment of the Parisians, we give them the praise of superior morality. The last hold on public morals, a Sabbath day, is almost wholly disregard ed; trades are carried on as on other days, and if any distinction is made, it is by increased dissipation. The extraordinary vigilance of the police may in a great measure account for the correct behaviour of the Parisians.

The present King, on his return, endeavoured, but ineffectually, to promote a more decent observance of the Sabbath; in this instance he has been obliged to yield (would it had been in a better cause) to popular opinion. The fête of St. Louis was on a Sunday, this year, and the whole city seemed given up to complete dissipation. There were ballad-singers, round-abouts, and all the elegant amusements of Bartholomew-fair; food and wine were distributed to the populace, and public illuminations and splendid fire-works took place, by order of Government.

While the day of God's appointment is scarcely noticed, except to profane it, such festivals as the Assumption of the Virgin, and days dedicated to Saints, are most strictly and religiously observed.

Trade seems brisk in Paris ;-we were astonished at the number of shops, which, though inferior in size, and (generally speaking) in splendour, to those of London, are certainly more numerous. The nick-name which Napoleon bestowed on us, 66 a natlon of shopkeepers," seems singularly ill applied, as from the rare occurrence of private houses in Paris the term is more suited to them. The shopkeepers have a childish plan of painting their articles of trade on the shutters and door-postsbonnets, sausages, books, stockingsevery species of dress or food, are displayed in brilliant colouring along the streets, to the great edification of beholders. Another singular trait may be mentioned-bakers' shops are decorated with an iron grating, and the imprisoned bread cannot be released from its confinement, except by the baker himself; the Parisians, however, account for this by the depredations committed by the populace in times of confusion.

An Englishman at his first entrance into Paris, must feel astonishment and delight at the apparent splendour he sees around him. A little time dissipates the illusion; he finds a strange contrast between the exterior show,

and interior dirtiness, and want of those accommodations to which he has been accustomed ;-be compares the high pretensions of its inhabitants, with their conceited views, insufferable egotism, and defective morality; and after a short stay turns willingly from the heartlesss gaieties and endless dissipations of Paris, to the quiet pleasures of an English fireside.-Ibid.

HOW TO BRING AN OFFENDER TO JUSTICE.

There prevails in many parts of Germany a good old custom, according to which criminals are passed from place to place, much in the same manner as with us vagrants or beggars are passed to their respective parishes. If a thief, for example, is caught at A, and he is or pretends to be from B, he is conducted from place to place by the inhabitants of the intermediate towns and villages, and has of course the best opportunities for escaping by the way. Now it frequently happens, that should he luckily reach B, by this mode of conveyance, it is found that he does not belong to that place: he is then sent back, or forwarded to C, or D, as the case may be, and the rogue has the pleasure of travelling all over the country, till he thinks fit, or in other words, till he has a favourable opportunity to escape, in order to recommence his industrious career. Such opportunities of recovering his liberty, without any effort on his part, are not rare; for escorting of offenders in this way is a compulsory service, which every one of course evades if he can.

The following anecdote, illustrative of this subject, is given by M. von Grollmann, criminal judge of the province of Upper Hesse, in his History of the Banditti of the Vogelsberg and Wetteravia; written in 1813. Holzapfel, one of these banditti, says that writer, whose work by the bye is entirely founded on authentic documents, was apprehended in 1811, with one of his comrades, at Oberessigheim, and sent to Hanau. As he stated Beuern, in this province, to be his birth-place, he was passed for Giesson, together with a sealed letter, by the commissariat of the police at Hanau. He arrived at L, a considerable place, some leagues from Giessen. This happened to be on a Sunday afternoon, when none of the peasants will work if they can help it. The constable, therefore, gave orders to the watchman of the place to appoint the man to take the

The name of Anacreon Moore, by which the gentleman to whom these Anecdotes are inscribed, is distinguished, is not so much his due from the mere circumstance of his having translated the odes of the Teian bard, as from the social qualities which he is known to possess, and the convivial spirit of his muse. Mr. Moore seems to be of opinion, that

"If with water you fill up your glasses, You'll never write any thing wise; For wine is the horse of Parnassus,

Which hurries a bard to the skies."

He is not, however, ungrateful for whatever share conviviality may have had in inspiring his muse, but has amply acknowledged it in the elegant and glowing terms in which he has celebrated its praises.

No individual presides with more grace at the convivial board; nor is

there one whose absence is more liable

to be regretted by his friends. Being on one occasion prevented from attending a banquet where he was an expected guest, and where, in consequence, every thing seemed (to use a familiar phrase) out of sorts, a gentle man, in the fervour of his disappointment, exclaimed, "Give us but one Anacreon more, ye gods, whatever else you deny us." Presiding once at a tavern dinner, where some of the company were complaining that there was no game at the table, a gentleman present, alluding to the fascinating manners of Mr. Moore, who kept the "table in a roar," said, "Why, gentlemen, what better game would you wish than Moor game, of which I am sure you have abundance ?"

At another time, after the pleasures of the evening had been extended to a pretty late hour, Mr. D. proposed, as a concluding bumper, the health of Mr. Moore; a toast which having been twice drank in the course of the evening, was objected to as unnecessary. Mr. D., however, persisted in giving the toast; and quoted, in support of it, the following passage from Mr. Moore's translation of the eighth ode of Anacreon. "Let us drink it now," said he,

FREDERICK AND CATHERINE. From the German Popular Stories."

There was once a man called Frederick he had a wife whose name was Catherine, and they had not long been

married. One day Frederick said, "Kate! I am going to work in the fields; when I come back I shall be cooked, and a good draught of ale." hungry, so let me have something nice "Very well," said she, it shall all be ready." When dinner-time drew nigh, Catherine took a nice steak,

which was all the meat she had, and put it on the fire to fry. The steak soon began to look brown, and to by with a fork and turned it: then she crackle in the pan; and Catherine stood said to herself, "The steak is almost ready, I may as well go to the cellar for the ale." So she left the pan on into the cellar and tapped the ale cask. the fire, and took a large jug and went The beer ran into the jug, and Catherine stood looking on. At last it popped into her head, "The dog is not shut steak; that's well thought of." So up up-he may be running away with the she ran from the cellar; and sure enough the rascally cur had got the steak in his mouth, and was making off with it.

Away ran Catherine, and away ran the dog across the field: but he ran faster than she, and stuck close to the steak. "It's all gone, and what can't be cured must be endured,'" said Catherine. So she turned round; and as she had run a good way and was tired, she walked home leisurely to cool herself.

Now all this time the ale was running too, for Catherine had not turned the cock; and when the jug was full the liquor ran upon the floor till the cask was empty. When she got to the cellar stairs she saw what had happened.

66

My stars!" said she, "what shall I do to keep Frederick from seeing all this slopping about?" So she thought a while; and at last remembered that there was a sack of fine meal bought at the last fair, and that if she sprinkled this over the floor it would suck

up the ale nicely. "What a lucky thing," said she, "that we kept that meal; we have now a good use for it." So away she went for it: but she managed to set it down just upon the great jug full of beer, and upset it; and thus all the ale that had been saved was set swimming on the floor also. "Ah! well," said she, "when one goes, another may as well follow." Then she strewed the meal all about the cellar, and was quite pleased with her cleverness, and said, "How very neat and clean it looks!"

At noon Frederick came home. "Now, wife," cried he, " what have you for dinner?" "O Frederick !" answered she, "I was cooking you a steak; but while I went down to draw the ale, the dog ran away with it; and while I ran after him, the ale all ran out; and when I went to dry up the ale with the sack of meal that we got at the fair, I upset the jug: but the cellar is now quite dry, and looks so clean!" "Kate, Kate," said he," how could you do all this? Why did you leave the steak to fry, and the ale to run, and then spoil all the meal?" Why, Frederick," said she, "I did not know I was doing wrong, you should have

told me before."

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The husband thought to himself, if my wife manages matters thus, I must look sharp myself. Now he had a good deal of gold in the house: so he said to Catherine, "What pretty yellow buttons these are! I shall put them into a box and bury them in the garden; but take care that you never go near or meddle with them." 66 No, Frederick," said she, "that I never will." As soon as he was gone, there came by some pedlars with earthenware plates and dishes, and they asked her whether she would buy. "Oh dear me, I should like to buy very much, but I have no money: if you had any use for yellow buttons, I might deal with you." "Yellow buttons!" said they, "let us have a look at them." "Go into the garden and dig where I tell you, and you will find the yellow buttons: I dare not go myself." So the rogues went: and when they found what these yellow buttons were, they took them all away, and left her plenty of plates and dishes. Then she set them all about the house for a show: and when Frederick came back, he cried out "Kate, what have you been doing?" "See," said she, "I have bought all these with your yellow but tons: but I did not touch them myself; the pedlars went themselves and dug

them up." "Wife, wife," said Fre derick, "what a pretty piece of work you have made! those yellow buttons were all my money: How came you to do such a thing?" "Why," answered she, "I did not know there was any harm in it; you should have told me."

Catherine stood musing for a while, and at last said to her husband, "Hark ye, Frederick, we will soon get the gold back: let us run after the thieves." "Well, we will try," answered he; "but take some butter and cheese with you, that we may have something to eat by the way." "Very well," said she, and they set out: and as Frederick walked the fastest, he left his wife some way behind. "It does not matter," thought she: "when we turn back, I shall be so much nearer home than he."

Presently she came to the top of a hill, down the side of which there was a road so narrow that the cart wheels always chafed the trees on each side as they passed. "Ah, see now," said she, "how they have bruised and wounded those poor trees; they will never get well." So she took pity on them, and made use of the butter to grease them all, so that the wheels might not hurt them so much. While she was doing this kind office, one of her cheeses fell out of the basket, and rolled down the hill. Catherine looked, but could not see where it was gone; so she said, "Well, I suppose the other will go the same way and find you; he has younger legs than I have." Then she rolled the other cheese after it; and away it went, nobody knows where, down the hill. But she said she supposed they knew the road, and would follow her, and she could not stay there all day waiting for them.

At last she overtook Frederick, who desired her to give him something to eat. Then she gave him the dry bread. "Where is the butter and the cheese? said he. "O?" answered she, "I used the butter to grease those poor trees that the wheels chafed so: and one of the cheeses ran away, so I sent the other after it to find it, and I suppose they are both on the road together somewhere." "What a goose you are to do such silly things!" said the husband. "How can you say so?" said she; "I am sure you never told me not."

They ate the dry bread together; and Frederick said, "Kate, I hope you locked the door safe when you came away." "No," answered she, "you did not tell me.' Then go home,

1 A foolish fellow, when addressed by a man of rank, used to answer, "Thank God and your Lordship."-"How many children have you, honest man ?" said a Grandee to him; "Four, thank God and your Lordship!"

THE CHACE. A peasant having killed a wild boar in the vineyards on the estate of M. de Charrolais, was arrest ied and ordered to the galleys. The poor wretch, overwhelmed by the horrible sentence, threw himself at the feet of the enraged lord, and exclaimed, Ah, my Lord! have mercy on me, I beg your pardon; but I thought it was a man, or I would not have killed it." His excuse was admitted, and as he only intended to destroy one of his fellow-creatures, he was pardoned and dismissed,

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HERALDS-These officers had for merly more active and dangerous duties than at present: on the day of battle they bore the royal standard, they ascertained the number of the 'dead, reclaimed the prisoners, summoned cities and castles to surrender, and assisted at the capitulations. The last instance of a Herald being dispatched to declare war, was in the time of Louis XIII. of France, against the Cardinal Infant Governor of the Low Countries. Since that time, the sovereigns of Europe have contented themselves with declaring war by manifestoes.

SINGULAR PETITION-About the second year of the late King's reign, a man of the name of George King was convicted in Dublin of a capital felony. He drew up a memorial to the King, which he forwarded with the following

lines:

George King to King George sends his

humble petition, Hoping King George will pity poor George King's condition; If King George to George King will grant a long day, George King for King George for ever

will pray. The man was pardoned.

DEATH OF THE YEAR 1829.-Expired, on Tuesday night, at 12 o'clock, the Year 1822, A complication of disorders of morbid tendency brought on her end. The early symptom of disease was febris carbonari; Neapolitan tremor followed; Spanish and Portuguese agitation then shook her with great violence; Greek furor and Ottoman oppression came on in violent paroxysms, whilst the unhappy patient was occasionally subject to cold fits of Russian and British policy. The most celebrated Doctors in Europe met to consult upon the case. They prescribed the principles of Holy Alliance in large doses, but the nostrum, like most quack medicines, totally failed.Spanish and Portuguese agitation baffled all the skill of the doctors; it became primary, and introduced another disorder, called French weakness. The year 1822 was rich-she produced abundance. All the necessaries of life she dispensed with a bountiful hand, but some of her unnatural children reproached her with excess of bounty, and wished for gold instead of bread. The most dutiful of her family blessed her fruitfulness.

TO CORRESPONDENTS. A press of temporary matter of interest prevents our inserting several articles intended for the present number.

N.S.Y. W. S.W. and S. T. have our best thanks: their valuable communications shall have insertion in our next.

The favours of several other correspondents are intended for early insertion.

In answer to the note of F. M. we beg leave to state, that at the end of every volume of THE MIRROR, we shall give an engraved Title-page and an Index.

Although we have "no set phrase of speech,' ," like our more ostentatious cotemporaries, in which to address our numerous readers at the commencement of the New Year, yet we assure them they have our best wishes, the compliments of the season, and "all that sort of thing," as our facetious friend, Charles Mathews, has it.

All communications intended for THE MIRROR, must be addressed to the Editor, and the postage paid, otherwise they cannot be received.

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