The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 20, No. 558, July 21, 1832

In Short

This volume is a curated miscellany of essays, poetry, and factual reports that functioned as a popular periodical for the nineteenth-century reader. It blends practical architectural updates—such as the construction of St. Dunstan’s Church—with deep dives into the merits of a vegetable diet, the history of royal executions, and the emerging field of phrenology. By preserving the eclectic interests of its time, the work provides a vivid, textured portrait of a society balancing tradition and rapid modernization, anchored by a desire to both entertain and improve.

The Story

The narrative arc of this periodical is not found in a single plot, but in the unfolding of a collective cultural worldview. It opens with a prideful account of civic improvement in London, specifically the construction of the new St. Dunstan’s Church. This focus on physical structure and societal progress sets the stage for a broader inquiry into the "improvement" of the individual. From here, the text transitions into the ethereal, offering a hymn to the Madonna that contrasts the fleeting nature of earthly life with the permanence of divine grace.

As the pages turn, the focus shifts from the spiritual to the biological and historical. A lengthy, argumentative essay interrogates the physical and moral consequences of meat-eating, positing that a vegetable diet fosters a more refined mind and a calmer soul. This inquiry into the "nature" of man is further expanded through a series of dialogues concerning natural history. Here, the text explores the superstitions that cling to the study of insects and the surprising evolution of garden vegetables, using these small, observational puzzles to reflect on the broader "March of Increment" that defines human advancement.

The tone then darkens as the collection pivots to history, specifically the death of Charles I. Through detailed, somber accounts of his trial and final hours, the reader is invited to contemplate the gravity of political upheaval and the sanctity of tradition. The narrative does not merely report these events; it contextualizes them within the personal mourning of the era, lingering on the physical details of the king’s last requests and the solemnity of his burial.

The volume concludes by broadening its lens again. It surveys the changing manners of contemporary society—lamenting the perceived vulgarity of the modern age—and ends with "The Gatherer," a collection of brief, disparate anecdotes ranging from the history of Portugal to the humorous arrogance of soldiers. The arc is thus one of widening scope: moving from the local architecture of a London street to the intimate health of the body, through the momentous tragedies of national history, and finally into the vast, curious, and often contradictory facts of the wider world. It leaves the reader with a sense of the era’s restless energy—a constant, inquisitive attempt to map the intersections of the human body, the state, and the natural environment.

How It Unfolds

The civic pride of architecture The volume opens by celebrating the replacement of the old St. Dunstan’s Church with a modern, superior structure, highlighting how local cooperation and architectural taste improve the character of Fleet Street. This focus on tangible, physical progress establishes the book’s tone of constructive optimism.

The spiritual and bodily refinement The text moves into the aesthetic and physical, presenting a hymn to the Madonna alongside an impassioned argument against the consumption of meat. It suggests that a simpler, vegetable-based diet clears the "muddy" mind and preserves the soul’s capacity for higher thought.

The puzzles of natural history Through a series of dialogues, the book examines the persistence of rural superstitions alongside the genuine wonders of horticulture and entomology. It highlights the tension between folk belief and scientific observation, marveling at how humble plants like the sloe have been "educated" into modern dainties.

The shadow of national history The perspective shifts to a somber, detailed account of the trial and execution of Charles I. This segment provides a window into the deep-seated loyalties and moral anxieties that informed the period's historical consciousness.

The assessment of modern manners The volume transitions to a critique of the present, where the Duchess of Abrantes reflects on the decay of social decorum in Paris. This section captures the book’s underlying tension: a fear that as society "advances," it may be losing its traditional grace.

The final gathering of facts The book concludes with a miscellany of anecdotes and trivia that range from ancient history to modern steam navigation. This final beat reinforces the periodical's goal: to collect the infinite, curious details of human existence into one accessible place.

The People

The figures populating these pages are often archetypal or historical, serving as vehicles for the book's broader arguments. John Shaw, the architect of the new St. Dunstan’s, represents the era’s reverence for design and civic duty, acting as a catalyst for local improvement. In the realm of health, Pythagoras and Shelley are cited as intellectual pillars, their advocacy for a vegetable diet framing the debate between primitive indulgence and enlightened restraint.

Charles I is the most vivid character in the collection, depicted not as a political entity but as a man of tragic dignity. His interactions with his guard, his calm reception of his fate, and his final, tactile exchanges of personal mementos create a portrait of a sovereign caught in the gears of history. Opposite him stand the "fanatical" figures of the Parliamentarians, whose refusal to allow the traditional burial rites serves as the primary obstacle to the king’s final peace.

Finally, the dialogue between Dov and Von Osdat provides a human face to the pursuit of knowledge. They are the curious observers who bridge the gap between high philosophy and the superstitious beliefs of the common man, such as the village slater who treats his bees with occult care. Through their conversation, they model the desired reader: one who is skeptical of superstition, well-versed in history, and perpetually amused by the "Tenterden philosophers" who seek cause and effect in all the wrong places.

In Its Own Voice

"Thus men wilfully pervert the good temperature of their bodies, stifle their wits, strangle nature, and degenerate into beasts."

The author quotes the Anatomy of Melancholy to bolster the argument that meat consumption dulls the human intellect.

"The sky was serene and clear; but presently a storm of snow fell so fast, that before it reached the chapel the pall and the mourners were entirely whitened."

This passage describes the atmospheric, almost symbolic, weather that accompanied the funeral of Charles I.

"For grave eyes, mirrored in the brook, Usurp the urchin's laughing look!"

The poet reflects on the melancholy passage of time and the loss of youthful innocence as one gains experience.

What It's Really About

At its core, this volume is an exploration of the relationship between refinement and decay. It asks whether human progress—seen in better architecture, improved food, and scientific discovery—is truly elevating the human condition or simply distancing us from a more authentic, natural state. It is preoccupied with the "cleansing" of the body and the mind, and the "clogging" effects of custom and excess. Underlying every report on phrenology or history is a persistent question: how does one distinguish between the "march of increment" and the loss of the soul’s inherent grace?

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy the slow, deliberate pace of nineteenth-century prose will find much to admire here. It feels like stepping into a well-stocked study where the owner has left a variety of open books and journals on the table. The writing is precise, earnest, and occasionally dry, capturing a world that felt both deeply connected to ancient philosophy and wildly excited by modern engineering.

Be prepared for the period-specific attitudes; the book carries the unselfconscious elitism of its time, particularly in how it discusses different cultures and the "boorishness" of the working classes. The text is also unapologetic in its intellectual density, assuming the reader is familiar with classical references, phrenological terminology, and the specific political history of the English Civil War. It is not a book to be consumed in a single sitting, but rather a companion for someone who enjoys the "pleasant pain" of reflecting on the past. You will come away with a profound sense of how the people of 1832 viewed themselves: as the inheritors of an "Iliad of evils" and the hopeful architects of a more rational, refined future. It is a work of genuine curiosity that rewards the patient reader with a bridge across two centuries.