Book Review: C# 2008 for Dummies by Chuck Sphar and Stephen Randy Davis
Moreover Technologies - Premier purveyor of real-time news and RSS feeds from across the Web

Book review:...
Ad - Free Shipping on purchases over $59.95 of products online at Tennis Express.

Book review: A Financial History of the World
So, you've finally decide to learn C# to obtain access to the low-level functionality that it provides. C# is one of my favorite languages (I have many), so I was especially interested in reviewing this book. Like many Dummies books, C# 2008 for Dummies

A / B / C / D / E / F / G / H / I / J / K / L / M / N / O / P / R / S / T / U / V / W / Y / Z

The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction, Vol. 14, written by Various

V >> Various >> The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction, Vol. 14,

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3


Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
file which includes the original illustrations.
See 14011-h.htm or 14011-h.zip:
(http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/1/4/0/1/14011/14011-h/14011-h.htm)
or
(http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/1/4/0/1/14011/14011-h.zip)





THE MIRROR OF LITERATURE, AMUSEMENT, AND INSTRUCTION.

VOL. XIV., NO. 389.] SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 12, 1829. [PRICE 2d.




* * * * *





SION HOUSE.


[Illustration: Sion House.]


Taylor, the water poet, or Samuel Ireland, the picturesque Thames
tourist, could not, in all their enthusiasm of jingling rhymes and
aquatint plates, have exceeded our admiration of Sion House. Its
whitened towers and battlemented roof are known to all the swan-hopping
and steam navigators of our day, and none who have floated

To where the silver Thames first rural grows,--


can be strangers to the magnificence of the river-front.

Sion House stands in the parish of Isleworth, on the Middlesex bank
of the Thames, and opposite Richmond gardens. It is called Sion
from a nunnery of Bridgetines of the same name, originally founded at
Twickenham, by Henry V. in 1414, and removed to this spot in 1432.
This conventual association consisted of sixty nuns, the abbess,
thirteen priests, four deacons, and eight lay brethren; the whole thus
corresponding, in point of number, with the Apostles and seventy-two
disciples of Christ. But the inmates were neither sinless nor spotless;
many irregularities existed in the foundation, and consequently, Sion
was among the first of the larger monastic institutions suppressed by
Henry VIII. The estimated yearly value was 1,944 l. 11 s. 8-1/2 d.,
now worth 38,891 l. 14 s. 2d.

After the dissolution of this convent, in 1532, it continued in the
crown during the remainder of Henry's reign; and the King confined here
his unfortunate Queen, Catherine Howard, from November 14, 1541, to
February 10, 1542, being three days before her execution. Edward VI.
granted it to his uncle, the Duke of Somerset, who, in 1547, began to
build this spacious structure, and finished the shell of it nearly as it
now remains. The house is a majestic edifice of white stone, built in a
quadrangular form, with a flat and embattled roof, with a square turret
at each of the outward angles. In the centre is an enclosed area, now
laid out as a flower garden. The gardens were originally enclosed by
high walls before the east and west fronts, so as to exclude all
prospect; but the Protector, to remedy this inconvenience, built a high
terrace in the angle between the walls of the two gardens. After his
execution, in 1552, Sion was forfeited; and the house, which was given
to John, Duke of Northumberland, then became the residence of his son,
Lord Guildford Dudley, and of his daughter-in-law, the unfortunate Lady
Jane Grey, who resided at this place when the Duke of Northumberland and
Suffolk, and her husband, came to prevail upon her to accept the fatal
present of the crown. The duke being beheaded in 1553, Sion House
reverted to the crown. Queen Mary restored it to the Bridgetines, who
possessed it till they were finally expelled by Elizabeth. In 1604, Sion
House was granted to Henry Percy, ninth Earl of Northumberland, in
consideration of his eminent services. His son, Algernon, employed Inigo
Jones to new face the inner court, and to finish the great hall in the
manner in which it now appears. In 1682, Charles, Duke of Somerset, by
his marriage with the only child of Joceline, Earl of Northumberland,
became possessed of Sion House: he lent the mansion to the Princess
Anne, who resided here during the misunderstanding between her and Queen
Mary. Upon the duke's death, in 1748, his son, Algernon, gave Sion House
to Sir Hugh and Lady Elizabeth Smithson, his son-in-law and daughter,
afterwards Duke and Duchess of Northumberland, who made many fine
improvements here, under the direction of Robert Adam, Esq. The late
duke (who distinguished himself at the battle of Bunker's Hill) passed
the principal part of his time at this seat; and here, also, he died,
in the year 1815. The present duke has expended immense sums in the
improvement of the mansion, grounds, and gardens.

The entrance is from the great road through a fine gateway, having on
each side an open colonnade, and on the top a lion passant, the crest
of the noble house of Northumberland. A flight of steps leads into the
great hall, sixty-six feet by thirty-one feet, and thirty-four in
height, paved with white and black marble, and ornamented with colossal
statues, and an extremely fine bronze cast of the Dying Gladiator, cast
at Rome, by Valadier. A flight of veined marble steps leads to the
vestibule, with a floor of scagliola, and twelve large Ionic columns
and sixteen pilasters of _verde antique_. This leads to the dining
room, ornamented with marble statues and paintings in _chiaro
oscuro_, after the antique, with, at each end, a circular recess,
separated by Corinthian columns, fluted, and a ceiling in stucco, gilt.
The drawing room has a rich carved ceiling; and the sides are hung with
three-coloured silk damask, the finest of the kind ever executed in
England. The antique mosaic tables, and the chimney-piece of this
apartment are very splendid, as are also the glasses, which are 108
inches by 65. The great gallery, serving for the library and museum, is
133-1/2 feet by 14, is in stucco, after the finest remains of antiquity,
and is remarkable as the first specimen of stucco work finished in
England. A series of medallion-paintings here represents the portraits
of all the earls of Northumberland, in succession, and other principal
persons of the houses of Percy and Seymour. At each end is a little
pavilion, finished in exquisite taste; as is also a beautiful closet
in one of the square turrets rising above the roof, which commands an
enchanting prospect.

From the east end of the gallery is a suite of private apartments
leading back to the great hall, and hung with valuable paintings,
among which are the following portraits: Henry Percy, ninth Earl of
Northumberland, who was implicated in the Gunpowder Plot, and imprisoned
in the Tower; he died November 5, 1632, the anniversary of the day so
fatal to his happiness. Lucy, Countess of Carlisle, his daughter, one of
the most admired beauties of her time; she also died November 5, 1660.
Algernon Percy, tenth Earl of Northumberland. Charles I. and one of his
sons, by Sir P. Lely. Charles I. by Vandyke. Queen Henrietta Maria,
Vandyke. The Duke of Gloucester, son of Charles I. The Princess
Elizabeth, daughter of Charles I.; this is believed to be the only
picture extant of this lady. The above portraits of the Stuart family
are placed in the apartments in which Charles had so many tender
interviews with his children, after the latter were committed to the
charge of Earl Algernon Percy, and removed to Sion House, in August,
1646. The earl treated them with parental attention, and obtained a
grant of Parliament for the king to be allowed to see them; and in
consequence of this indulgence, the latter, who was then under restraint
at Hampton Court, often dined with his family at Sion House.

Two of the principal fronts of Sion House command very beautiful
scenery; for even the Thames itself appears to belong to the gardens,
which are separated into two parts by a serpentine river that
communicates with the Thames.

The gardens were principally laid out by Brown: they have, however,
been lately improved and re-arranged; and the kitchen-garden is almost
unequalled by any thing in the kingdom. Here is a range of hothouses
upwards of 400 feet in length, constructed of metal, even to the
wall-plates, the doors, and framing of the sashes; the whole being
glazed with plate-glass. It is impossible for us to describe the extent
and completeness of these improvements, connected with which, Mr. Loudon
observes--"nothing can be more gratifying than to see a nobleman
employing a part of his income in so judicious and spirited a
manner."[1]

[1] Mr Loudon promises an account of these improvements for the next
number of his valuable _Gardener's Magazine_.


* * * * *




RETROSPECTIVE GLEANINGS.

* * * * *


MONKISH VERSES.

(For the _Mirror_.)


MIRROR, vol. xii. pp. 98, 165.

The following is said to have been the epitaph on the tomb of Fair
Rosamond, at Godstow:--

_Hic jacet in tomba, Rosamundae non Rosamundi,
Non redolet sed olet quae redolere solet_.


TRANSLATED.

Within this tomb lies the world's fairest rose;
Whose scent now charms not, but offends the nose.

MIRROR, vol. xiii. p. 98.


The couplet on York Minster, translated.

As of all flowers the rose is still the sweetest,
So of all churches this is the completest.


On the stone in the coronation chair in Westminster Abbey.

_Ni fallat fatum, Scoti quocunque loquitur,
Inveniant lapidem, regnare teneter ibidem_.


TRANSLATED.

Unless old proverbs fail, and wizard's wits be blind,
The Scots shall surely reign, where'er this stone they find.


Luther sent a glass to Dr. Justus Jonas, with the following verses:--

_Dat vitrum vitro, Jonae, vitro ipse Lutherus,
Se similem ut fragili noscat uterque vitro_.


TRANSLATED.

Luther a glass, to Jonas Glass, a glass doth send,
That both may know ourselves to be but glass, my friend.


PRIOR.

MIRROR, vol. xii. p. 184.


Prior's epitaph on himself was parodied as follows:--

Hold Mathew Prior, by your leave,
Your epitaph is very odd:
Bourbon and you are sons of Eve,
Nassau the offspring of a God.


Which being shewn to Swift he wrote the following:--

Hold, Mathew Prior, by your leave,
Your epitaph is barely civil;
Bourbon and you are sons of Eve,
Nassau the offspring of the devil.


In the "Spectator," is part of an epitaph by Ben Jonson, on Mary
Herbert, Countess of Pembroke, and sister of Sir Philip Sidney. The
following is the whole, taken from the first edition of Jonson's works,
collected as they were published:--

Underneath this stone doth lie,
As much virtue as could die;
Which when alive did vigour give,
To as much beauty as could live;
If she had a single fault,
Leave it buried in this vault.


Another on the same, from the same source:--

Underneath this sable hearse,
Lies the subject of all verse,
Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother,
Death ere thou hast slain another,
Fair, and good, and learn'd as she,
Time shall throw a dart at thee;
Marble piles, let no man raise
To her fame; for after days,
Some kind woman born as she,
Reading this, like Niobe,
Shall turn statue and become
Both her mourner and her tomb.


A CORRESPONDENT.

* * * * *


The Londiners pronounce woe to him, that buyes a horse in Smith-field,
that takes a Seruant in Paul's Church, that marries a Wife out of
Westminster. Londiners, and all within the sound of Bow-Bell, are in
reproch called Cocknies, and eaters of buttered tostes. The Kentish
men of old were said to haue tayles, because trafficking in the Low
Countries, they neuer paid full payments of what they did owe, but still
left some part vnpaid. Essex men are called calues, (because they abound
there,) Lankashire eggepies, and to be wonne by an Apple with a red
side. Norfolke wyles (for crafty litigiousness:) Essex stiles, (so many
as make walking tedious,) Kentish miles (of the length.)

--_Moryson's Itinerary_, 1617.

* * * * *


ORIGIN OF THE WORD SMECTYMNUUS.

(For the _Mirror_.)


This was a cant term that made some figure in the time of the Civil War,
and during the Interregnum. It was formed of the initial letters of the
names of five eminent Presbyterian ministers of that time, viz. Stephen
Marshall, Edmund Calamy, Thomas Young, Matthew Newcomen, and William
Spenstow; who, together, wrote a book against Episcopacy, in the year
1641, whence they and their retainers were called Smectymnuans. They
wore handkerchiefs about their necks for a note of distinction (as the
officers of the parliament-army then did) which afterwards degenerated
into cravats.

P.T.W.

* * * * *


CIVIC FEAST IN 1506.

(For the _Mirror_.)


In the court room of Salters' Hall there appears, framed and glazed, the
following "Bill of fare for fifty people of the Company of Salters, A.D.
1506."

s. d.
Thirty-six chickens 4 5
One swan and four geese 7 0
Nine rabbits 1 4
Two rumps of beef tails 0 2
Six quails 1 6
Two oz. of pepper 0 2
Two oz. of cloves and mace 0 4
One and a half oz. of saffron 0 6
Eight lbs. of sugar 0 8
Two lbs. of raisins 0 4
One lb. of dates 0 4
One and a half lb. of comfits 0 2
Half a hundred eggs 0 2-1/2
Four gallons of curds 0 4
One ditto gooseberries 0 2
Bread for the company 1 1
One kilderkin of ale 2 3
Herbs 1 0
Two dishes of butter 0 4
Four breasts of veal 1 5
Brawn 0 6
Quarter load of coals 0 4
Faggots 0 2
Three and a half gallons of
Gascoigne wine 2 4
One bottle of Muscovadine 0 8
Cherries and tarts 0 8
Verjuice and vinegar 0 2
Paid the cook 3 4
Perfume 0 2
One bushel and a half of meal 0 8
Water 0 3
Garnishing the vessels 0 3
-------------
Total of feast for 50 people L1 13 2-1/2
-------------


CURIOS.

* * * * *




THE SELECTOR; AND LITERARY NOTICES OF NEW WORKS.

* * * * *


VIDOCQ. (Concluded.)


We have a vulgar book called _Frauds of London laid open_, and
Vidocq's fourth volume will serve for Paris, since he defines the
nomenclature--nay the very craft of thieves with great minuteness:
thus--


_The Chevaliers Grimpants_.

"The Chevaliers Grimpants, called also _voleurs au bonjour_, _donneurs
de bonjours_, _bonjouriers_, are those who introduce themselves into a
house and carry off in an instant the first movable commodity that falls
in their way. The first _bonjouriers_ were I am assured, servants
out of place. They were at first few in number, but, soon acquiring
pupils, their industry increased so rapidly, that from 1800 to 1812,
there was scarcely a day that robberies were not committed in Paris of
from a dozen to fifteen baskets of plate.

"The _Almanach du commerce, l'Almanach royal_, and that with
twenty-five thousand addresses in it, are, for bonjouriers, the most
interesting works that can be published. Every morning, before they go
out, they consult them; and when they propose visiting any particular
house, it is very seldom that they are not acquainted with the names of
at least two persons in it; and that they may effect an entrance, they
inquire for one when they see the porter, and endeavour to rob the other.

"A _bonjourier_ has always a gentlemanly appearance, and his shoes
always well made and thin. He gives the preference to kid before any
other leather, and takes care to bruise and break the sole that it may
not creak or make any noise; sometimes the sole is made of felt; at
other times, and especially in winter, the kid slipper, or dogskin shoe,
is replaced by list shoes, with which they can walk, go up stairs, or
descend a staircase, without any noise. The theft _au bonjour_, is
effected without violence, without skeleton keys, without burglariously
entering. If a thief sees a key in a door of a room, he first knocks
very gently, then a little harder, then very loudly; if no person
answers, he turns the handle, and thus enters the antechamber.
He then advances to the eating-room, penetrates even to the adjoining
apartments, to see if there be any person there; returns, and if the key
of the sideboard is not to be seen, he looks in all the places in which
he knows it is generally deposited, and if he finds it, he instantly
uses it to open the drawers, and taking out the plate, he places it
generally in his hat, after which, he covers it with a napkin, or fine
cambric handkerchief, which, by its texture and whiteness, announces the
gentleman. Should the _bonjourier_, whilst on his enterprise, hear
any person coming, he goes straight towards him, and accosting him,
wishes him good morning (_le bonjour_) with a smiling and almost
familiar air, and inquires if it be not Monsieur 'such a one,' to whom
he has the honour of addressing himself. He is directed to the story
higher or lower, and, then still smiling, evincing the utmost politeness
and making a thousand excuses and affected bows, he withdraws. It may so
happen, that he has not had time to consummate his larceny, but most
frequently the business is perfected, and the discovery of loss only
made too late to remedy it.

"The majority of the thieves in this particular line commence their
incursions with morning, at the hour when the housekeepers go out for
their cream, or have a gossip whilst their masters and mistresses are in
bed. Other _bonjouriers_ do not open the campaign until near dinner
time; they pitch upon the moment when the plate is laid upon the table.
They enter, and in the twinkling of an eye, they cause spoons, forks,
ladles, &c. to vanish. This is technically termed _goupiner a la
desserte_, (clearing the cloth).

"One day one of these _goupineurs a la desserte_ was on the look
out in a dining room, when a servant entered carrying two silver dishes,
between which were some fish. Without being at all disconcerted, he went
up to her, and said--'Well, go and bring up the soup, the gentlemen are
in a hurry.'

"'Yes, sir,' said the maid, taking him for one of the guests, 'it is
quite ready, and if you please you can announce the dinner.'

"At the same time she ran to the kitchen, and the _goupineur_,
after having hastily emptied the dishes, thrust them between his
waistcoat and shirt. The girl returned with the broth, the pretended
guest had retired, and there was not a single piece of silver left on
the table. They denounced this theft to me, and from the statement
given, as well as the description of the person committing the robbery,
I thought I had recognised my man. He was called _Cheinaux_, alias
_Bayer_, and was discovered and apprehended in Saint Catherine's
market. His shirt was marked with the circumference of the dishes, in
consequence of the remains of the sauce left in them.

"Another body of _bonjouriers_ more particularly direct their
talents to furnished houses.

"The individuals forming this class are on foot from the dawn of day.
Their talent is evinced by the adroit mode in which they baffle the
vigilance of the porters. They go up the staircase, sometimes on one
pretext, and sometimes on another, look round them, and if they find any
keys in the doors, which is common enough, they turn them with the least
possible noise. Once in the room, if the occupant be asleep, farewell to
his purse, his watch, his jewels, and all that he has that is valuable.
If he awakes, the visiter has a thousand excuses ready.

"'A thousand pardons, sir, I thought this was No. 13;' or, 'Was it you,
sir, who sent for a bootmaker, tailor, hairdresser,'" &c. &c.


_The Detourneurs and Detourneuses_.

"The robbery _a la detourne_ is that which is effected whilst
making purchases at a shop. This species of plunder is practised by
individuals of both sexes; but the _detourneuses_, or _lady prigs_,
are generally esteemed more expert than the _detourneurs_, or
_gentlemen prigs_. The reason of this superiority consists entirely in
the difference of dress; women can easily conceal a very large parcel.

"In retail shops it would be an advisable plan, when there are many
customers to serve, that from time to time the shopmen should say to
each other, _deux sur dix_ (two on ten), or else _allumez les
gonzesses_ (twig the prigs). I will bet a thousand to one, that on
hearing these words, the thieves, who have very fine ears, will make
haste to take themselves away.

"Shopkeepers of what class soever, particularly retailers, cannot be
too much on their guard; they should never forget that in Paris there
are thousands of male and female thieves _a la detourne_, I here
only speak of robbers by profession; but there are also _amateurs_,
who, beneath the cover of a well-established reputation, make small
acquisitions slyly and unsuspectedly. They are very honest people they
say, who with little scruple indulge their propensity for a rare book,
a miniature, a cameo, a mosaic, a manuscript, a print, a medal, or
a jewel that pleases them; they are called _Chipeurs_. If the
_Chipeur_ be rich, no heed is paid to him, he is too much above
such a larceny to impute it to him as a crime; if he be poor, he is
denounced to the attorney-general, and sent to the galleys, because
he robbed from necessity. It must be owned that we have strange ideas
as to honesty and dishonesty."

This is what we call _Shoplifting_. A milliner once told us that
ribands and flowers not unfrequently attach themselves to the cuffs and
sleeves of fair purchasers.


_Careurs_

Belong to the same class of thieves, and are gipsies, Italians, or Jews.
The female Careurs are very expert in robbing priests; and Vidocq
apprehended a mother and daughter for more than sixty such offences.

"The gipsies do not confine themselves to these means of appropriating
to themselves the property of another: they frequently commit murder,
and they have the less objection to commit a murder, because they have
no feeling of any kind of remorse; and they have a peculiar kind of
expiation whereby they purify themselves. For a year they wear a coarse
woollen shirt, and abstain from '_work_' (robbing). This period
elapsed, they believe themselves white as snow. In France, the majority
of the persons of this caste call themselves Catholics, and have every
external show of great devotion. They always carry about them rosaries
and a crucifix; they say their prayers night and morning, and follow
the service with much attention and precision. In Germany, they seldom
exercise any other calling than that of horse doctor, or herbalist:
some addict themselves to medicine, that is to say, profess to be in
possession of secret means of effecting cures. A vast number of them
travel in bodies, some tell fortunes, others mend glass, china, pots,
and pans; woe to the inhabitants of the country overrun by these
vagabonds. There will infallibly be a mortality amongst the cattle, for
the gipsies are very clever in killing them, without leaving any traces
which can be converted into a charge of malevolence against them. They
kill the cows by piercing them to the heart with a long and very fine
needle, so that the blood flowing inwardly, it may be supposed that the
animal died of disease. They stifle poultry with brimstone; they know
that then they will give them the dead birds; and whilst they imagine
that they have a taste for carrion, they make good cheer, and eat
delicious meat. Sometimes they want hams, and then they take a red
herring and hold it under the nose of a pig, which, allured by the
smell, would follow them to the world's end."


_Rouletiers_

Are fellows who plunder carriages of portmanteaus, imperials, &c.

"One day I followed a famous _rouletier_ named _Gosnet_. On reaching
the Rue Saint Denis, he jumped up on a coach, put on a cloak and cotton
cap which he found lying close to his hand, and in this dress got down
again with a portmanteau under his arm. It was not later than two
o'clock in the afternoon; but to elude all suspicion, Gosnet, on
alighting, went straight to the _conducteur_ (guard), and after
having spoken to him, turned down a street close at hand. I was in
waiting for him, he was apprehended and sentenced."


_Tireurs_,

Or pickpockets are as abundant as mushrooms.

"There was in Paris a thief of such incredible dexterity that he robbed
without an accomplice. He placed himself in front of a person, put his
hand behind him, and took either a watch or some other valuable. This
species of thievery is called the _vol a la chicane_.

"A fellow named Molin, alias _Moulin le Chapelier_, being under the
portico des Francais, was desirous of stealing a gentleman's purse: the
sufferer, who was near the wall, thought he felt some one picking his
pocket; Molin, full of presence of mind, effected his object in an
instant, the purse was torn from the pocket, he opened it, and taking
out a coin, asked for a ticket for the play. At the same moment the
person robbed said to him--'But, sir, you have taken my purse, give it
to me.'--'The devil I have,' replied Molin with an air of affected
surprise, 'are you quite sure?' Then looking attentively at it--'By
heavens! I thought it was mine. Oh! sir, I ask your pardon.'

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3
Copyright (c) 2007. topknownstories.com. All rights reserved.