One of these was given to a gentleman as a relic of this memorable agitation, but the bit of lapis lazuli had dropped out, and he took it to a working jeweller in Cork to have the defect supplied. When it was returned, he found that a topaz had been substituted for the missing bit of lapis lazuli. “How is this?” he inquired, “you have made a mistake.” “No mistake, sir,” said the witty workman, whom he afterwards discovered to be an ardent Repealer, “It is all right: it was repeal, but let us repeat that we may have it yet.”’
[73] Appendix.
[74] In Knight’s ‘Pictorial Shakspeare’ is the following note on the dial which Touchstone drew ‘from his “poke:”’ ‘“There’s no clock in the forest,” says Orlando; and it was not very likely that the fool would have a pocket-clock. What then was the dial that he took from his poke? We have lately become possessed of a rude instrument kindly presented to us by a friend, which, as the Maid of Orleans found her sword, he picked “out of a deal of old iron.” It is a brass circle of about two inches in diameter. On the outer side are engraved letters, indicating the names of the months, with gradual divisions; and on the inner side, the hours of the day. The brass circle itself is to be held in one position by a ring; but there is an inner slide in which there is a small orifice. This slide being moved, so that the hole stands opposite the division of the month when the day falls of which we desire to know the time, the circle is held up opposite the sun. The inner side is then, of course in shade, but the sunbeam shines through the little orifice and forms a point of light upon the hour marked on the inner side. We have tried this dial and found it give the hour with great exactness.’
A correspondent of ‘Notes and Queries’ (vol. xii. 3rd series, p. 79) mentions that rings to ascertain the time are regularly sold at the Swiss fairs. They are called cadrans. The price of one is twenty centimes.
[75] This magnificent collection was sold, in one lot (June 28th, 1875), to Mr. Bromilow, of Battlesden Park, for 35,000l.
[76] In Montfaucon’s ‘L’Antiquité Expliquée’ there is a fine illustration of this beautiful seal. My edition of the work is in English (1721), and the engraving is in vol. i. page 145. It is thus described: the child Bacchus is in the arms of his nurse. She is generally thought to have been Ino, called also Leucothea, or the daughters of Ino (according to others) brought him up. A nymph, or perhaps another nurse, is sitting by. The old man is either Silenus, or it may be Athamas, Ino’s husband. Several other nymphs have on their heads baskets full of flowers and fruits. Two Cupids, or Genii, stretch a canopy over Bacchus and the company that are about him. A nymph presents a cup to one of the Cupids. On the side of the figure is an old satyr leaning against a tree. He is playing on a kind of crooked hautboy. At the end, behind the tree, is a young boy, holding with both hands a bason, in which a goat seems to be going to drink. It is not easy to say who a naked man is with the crown on, and holding a cup in one hand, and in the other the bridle of a horse that is prancing. Some have taken it for Apollo.
[77] A curious story of a squirt-ring is mentioned in Thiebault’s ‘Original Anecdotes of Frederick II.’ M. de Guines, ambassador of France at Berlin, had greatly mortified the Prussian nobles, and especially the other foreign ministers, by the ostentatious pomp which he displayed. Those whose limited means he thus eclipsed longed for some opportunity to wound the vanity of the proud man who daily humbled theirs, and excited their envy. At this crisis a Russian ambassador, who was returning home to present at his own court his newly-married bride, stopped on his way at Berlin. Prince Dolgorouki, the Russian ambassador there, did the honours of the Russian court to his countryman, and gave him and his wife a dinner, to which were invited all the corps diplomatique. M. de Guines was seated next to the bride. The lady, who had been initiated into all the court gossips, had enlisted under the banner of the malcontents, and taken upon herself the task of vexing the magnificent Frenchman. She had placed upon her finger a ring of very exquisite and curious workmanship, to which she called the attention of her neighbour during the course of the dinner. As he stooped to examine the jewel, the wearer pressed a spring concealed in the side of the ring within her hand, and jerked a small quantity of water into the eyes of the ambassador. The ring contained a syringe. The minister wiped his face, jested good-humouredly on the diminutive little instrument, and thought no more of it. But his fair enemy had not yet accomplished her purpose of mortifying the ambassador. Having refilled the squirt unperceived by him, she called his attention to herself, and again discharged the water in his face. M. de Guines looked neither angry nor abashed, but, in a serious tone of friendly advice, said to his foolish aggressor: ‘Madame, this kind of jest excites laughter the first time; when repeated it may be excused, especially if proceeding from a lady, as an act of youthful levity; but the third time it would be looked upon as an insult, and you would instantly receive in exchange the glass of water you see before me: of this, madame, I have the honour to give you notice.’ Thinking he would not dare to execute his threat, the lady once more filled and emptied the little water-spout at the expense of M. de Guines, who instantly acknowledged and repaid it with the contents of his glass, calmly adding, ‘I warned you, madame.’ The husband took the wisest course, declaring that the ambassador was perfectly justified in thus punishing his wife’s unjustifiable rudeness. The lady changed her dress, and the guests were requested to keep silence on the affair. [Madame de Barrera.]