The Sun.
London, England, 1837-03-01 00:00:00

FRASER' S MAGAZINE.

" Nimrod" is in high glee this month, and contributes a
lively Paper full of whimsical anecdote, entitled " Cibaria
Memorabilia"—which is, being interpreted, recollections of
great gluttons, epicures, &c. These recollections are given
in Mr. Apperton's raciest manner, with a bonhommie and
evident relish of his subject that carry his reader along with
him. The article will be sure to take, for as Johnson—no
mean qutbority on such matters—justly says, "people like to
talk and read about eating and drinking:" Cervantes and Scott,
both men of the world, knew this right well, hence the one
has run riot in a Sancho, and the other in a Dugald Dal-
getty. The following anecdotes are amusing :
" Perhaps the following case of gluttony may be rather hard
to beat. It occurred a few years back at Boulogne-sur-Mer,
and I can vouch for the truth of it. Two gentlemen, one a
D. D., and the other a half-pay Captain in the army, both
cursed with " a palate," and stomachs well calculated to the
indulgence of it, chanced to reside in that town at the same
time. Their means being rather slender, they were unable
to appear often at first-rate tables d'hote, but were in the habit
of now and then meeting at a certain restaurateur's, where
they would sit down, tete-a-tele, to enjoy themselves. On
one luckless day, just as the master of it had placed on their
table two smoking hot oyster patties, for which he was fa-
mous, down dropped the doctor in. an•epileptic. The usual
means of restoration being at hand, Richard was himself again
in about a quarter of as hour, when, casting his eyes towards
the table, he missed his oyster patty. " What's become of
my patty?" said he, so soon as lie was raised. " You have
eaten it, Sir," bellowed he to the captain, with a look of much
anger and mortification. He was right ; the captain had eaten
it whilst his friend lay on the ground. Now, what price
would not stomachs like these fetch, if such things could be
bought in the market?
I shall now touch a lighter string, and relate an amusing
tale of the two Boulogne bon vivants of whom I have been
speaking. The doctor took a house about four miles from the
town, where his kind and sympathising friend was in the habit
of now and then visiting him ; and the pleasures of the table
being exhausted, the game of backgammon succeeded, at which
they were also equally sturdy competitors, or, rather, equally
matched. It, however, one night happened that a dispute
arose between them as to a particular throw of the dice called
size ace, which the captain claimed, but the doctor would not
allow. On being called out of the room in the middle of it,
the doctor returned with these words in his mouth :—" Now,
Sir, do you say you threw size ace ?" " I do say so, sir,"
replied the captain, little dreaming of the price lie was about
to pay for his pertinacity. " Just step to the front door," said
the doctor, greatly modifying his tone ; " you never beheld
such a night in your life." It was raining and blowing most
awfully at the moment. The ruse succeeded ; the captain
stood upon the threshold, nearly aghast at the raging of the
elements, when the question was again put to him, and the
same answer returned. "Now," said the doctor, "do you
say you threw size ace ?" " Yes, I do," responded the cap-
tain. " Then," exclaimed the doctor, " get about your busi-
ness, for have nothing more to say to you !" and giving
him a push, slammed the door in his face, and locked it."
The late King George the Fourth, says Nimrod, was
particularly partial to a " cold saddle of mutton." This
shows that his Majesty had a sounder and more unsophisti-
cated taste in epicurean matters than his " double" Sir
William Curtis, whose palate the insufferable " callipasli"
held in unbroken thraldom. But great men arc always
simple in their tastes; thus Parr did homage to a shoulder
of mutton ; Johnson to stewed veal ; Porson to a veal
cutlet ; and Charles Lamb to a roast pig ; Napoleon swore by
a mutton-chop ; and the Duke of Wellington, we have heard,
slices an " eighteen pen'north" occasionally off his favourite
joint, a cold sirloin, at a Club-house. " Greek Comedy—
Aristophanes" is a delightful Essay, learned yet far from
pedantic, on some late translations of the Greek dramatist.
" Whigs and Tories of Old Times" is mere political twad-
dle ; and " Coffee and Crumpets" a sprightly poem, of
the Beppo class, in which the personal allusions, though
smart and piquant, are wholly devoid of any thing like ill-
nature. " Embarking for the Colonies" is a sketchy tale,
whose chief recommendations are the case and spirit of its
dialogues. .

MONTHLY MAGAZINE.

The notice of De Beranger and his celebrated songs,
which have stirred the heart of France like a trumpet, is
very pleasantly written, without any formal parade of cri-
ticism. It is accompanied by an engraved portrait of the
French poet, which is thoughtful, and bespeaks sensibility.
" Passages from a Military Journal" is, as the title would
import, full of " drums, trumpets, blunderbusses, guns, and
thunder." The account of " Constantine is, at this mo-
ment, very interesting reading. The few remaining arti-
cles we must dismiss with the remark that they arc neither
above nor below par.