THE PARSON CAJOLED.

So much for my courage, and now for a few certificates of my wit, for which the world, as well as yourself, knows I am equally famous. I happened the other day to be at Nando's Coffee house, in company with a parson, who was exclaiming against a weaver of hair, for cheating him in a wig. Sir, said 1, next time you have occasion for a new noddle-case, if yon please I will recommend you to the honestest Periwig-maker in Christendom; I bought this wig on my head of him; it cost me but fifteen shillings; and I have wore it de die in diem these nine years and upwards, and you see it's not yet dwindled into scandalous circumstances; and sir, if you please, I'll tell you for what reasons he can afford better pennyworths than the rest of the trade: In the first place, you must know he dwells at Chelmsford, in Essex, and the country, you are sensible, admits of cheap living; in the next place, he has nineteen daughters in his family, all bred up to his own trade, whose hair grows so prodigiously fast, that it keeps them all employed from the first day of January, to the last of December, excepting holidays; once in four years he mows the family round, never failing of a very plentiful much about this time I reckon his crop; harvest is ripe, and all the neighbouring gentlemen are flocking in to bespeak their periwigs; some are fair girls, some brown, some black, so that he can mix up a colour to suit any complexion. And is this true, sir, says the young Priest? True, sir, said 1; I hope you don't think me so little of a Christian to

impose upon a scholar, a gentleman of your functions: 'tis so true, sir, that it brings a great trade to the town, and every body knows

that Essex, for Chelmsford wigs, and Run of calves, ontdoes all the counties in England.Say you so, says the Levite, I am come up to town about a little business that will require my attendance about a fortnight, and having a horse that has nothing else to do, I'll e'en make a journey thither to-morrow, and try it i can chaffer. Sir, said I, there is not sueu hair in the kingdom of England, as in his family, for they are all virtuous girls, and tha: makes their hair the stronger; besides, all the clergy round him are his customers, becau he makes up his wigs without any mixture of hair. Well, says the young doctor, I'll have one of the wigs to carry into the country with and please the pigs; at Chelmsford, you say? Yes, sir, at Chelmsford, said 1. the least child in the town knows him; ask but for the barber and his nineteen daughters, and you cannot miss of him.

me,

Haring thus laid the scene, I took my leave, and adjourned about the business of the day, and coming from Montague's shop three or four days afterwards, I stepped into the same Coffee-house, where I happened to meet with the spiritual pastor just coming to town, whe had been erring and straying about like a lost sheep, in quest of Tonsor in Nudibus. As soon as he set his eyes upon me, he attacked me tooth and nail, with as much fury as if I had been the brother to the W―e of Babylon, and told me I was some papist, or otherwise a fanatic, or else I would have had more religion in me, than to have made a fool of a man of his function, for he had taken a journey ON purpose to Chelmsford, and could find no such barber. Pray, sir, said I, don't be so angry, for since I never gave ear to your preaching, why should you listen to my prating? And since you make fools of a whole parish every Sunday, how can you be so angry with a man to make a fool of you once in his life-time? so turned my back, and left the whole company to laugh at him."

NEW SYSTEM OF PUNCTUATION.-At ́ a dinner table, lately, one of those things called dandies. was seated at the top, and among the company was an honest countryman. The dandy, during dinner, was profuse in his affected and effeminate speeches, and the farmer was occasionally a little coarse.When cheese appeared, the dandy, in a smiling

manner, begged to know whether the countryman

would take the pure or impure part. "Hang

your pure and impure too,' said the countryman, "give ine some of the rotten."-" Sir," said the dandy, if you are so rude again, I shall put my thumb and finger on each side of your nose, and make a parenthesis with them."-" Shall you so," said the countryman, "then I shall put my fist in your face, and make a full stop with it.”

Printed and Published for the Proprietors, by J. WHITE, 41. Holywell-street, Strand, and may be had of all Booksellers.

VOL. 1. No. 9.]

Anecdotes.

DR. JOHNSON.-The anecdotes which have been told of this celebrated character are endless. For many he is doubtless obliged to the fabrications of his friends as well as his enemies. Report, for a series of years, gave him credit for most of the best things that attracted public notice. Some of these appear only an improvement of others; the second edition of what did not please in the first, or an echo to sayings of which no trace probably remained on his memory but the sound. Whoever would make an accurate collection of them must inviolably adhere to arrangement. A great variety were originally dropped in booksellers' shops, where he always lounged away much of his time with a few literary and scientific men, whose intimacy and conversation it was his ambition to cultivate; and among people of fashion and distinction, of whose attentions, adulation, and friendship, he grew immoderately fond in the latter periods of his life.

Long before he broached the idea of his dictionary, or any other work which chiefly contributed to raise and establish his literary reputation, he was much with a bookseller of eminence, who frequently consulted him about manuscripts offered for sale, or books newly published: but whenever Johnson's opinion happened to differ from his, he would stare Johnson in the face and remark, with much gravity and arrogance, I wish you could write as well! This Johnson thought was literally telling a professional man that he was an impostor, or that he assumed a character to which he was not equal; he therefore heard the gross inputation once or twice with sullen contempt. One day, however, in the presence of several gentlemen who knew them both, this bookseller, very incautiously, threw out the same Alliberal opinion.

John on could suppress his indignation no longer. "Sir," said he, “ you are not competent to decide a question which you do not understand. If your allegations be true, you have the brutality to insult me with what is not my fault, but my misfortune. If your allegation be not true, your impudent speech only shews how much more detestable a liar is than a brute."

The strong conclusive aspect and ferocity of manner which accompanied these words, from a poor author to a purse-proud bookseller, made a deep impression in Johnson's favour, and secured him, perhaps, more respect and civility

[PRICE 6d.

in his subsequent intercourse with the trade than any other transaction of his life.

Goldsmith, who hated the prudery of Johnson's morals, affected to ridicule the foppery of Hawksworth's manners, yet warmly admired the genius of both, was in use to say, among his acquaintance, that Johnson would have made a decent monk, and Hawksworth a good dancing master.

Johnson often took his revenge. He had sarcasms at will for all persons and all places. One evening these two wits were in company with a lady whom they were both in the habit of visiting, and a large assemblage of fine wo men. Goldsmith, who was the most aukward creature imaginable in such a situation, overturned the tea-things as the servant presented him with his dish. He was speechless: and the ladies, after staring at each other, burst into a fit of laughter. Johnson only continued grave; and, turning to the lady next him, "Madam," said he, "can you tell how a man who shocks so much in company, can give so many charms to his writings?" Johnson is said never to have forgiven a lady, then present, who affected to whisper in a voice loud enough to be heard by the whole room, "These gentlemen publish so much delicacy, that they reserve none for private use."

But whatever may be thought of his genius, his science, or his wit, the benevolence, the seriousness, and the religious tendency of his moral productions, are eminent and incontestible. He never made any attempt at historical composition. In other walks of literature he had few superiors, and was, undoubtedly, one of the most popular authors of his day. His regard for religion was sacred and inviolable. Those virtues and qualities which adininister to the decency and felicity of life, derived from his pen peculiar aid and illustration. He was the friend and advocate of whatever enlarges, heightens, refines, or perfects, the happiness of humanity. To this great and prevailing ohject all his labours had an immediate reference: and his whole life, in public and private, was consecrated to the welfare and the honour of the species.

LORD AVONMORE.-The late Lord Avonmore, although a man of distinguished talents was too apt, from a hasty disposition, to anticipate the tendency of an argument. A celebrated lawyer, whose client had suffered in consequence of this habit, took the following method of reproving it:-Being engaged to dine in company with the noble lord, he delayed going till the company were at dunes :

Who knows Newmarket breed so well, that he
Can tell you Jack-a-Dandy's pedigree ;
And down, from long descent, pretends to trace
The famous Swallows, or fleet Dragon's race.
How, sir, what's this you say; is this buffoon
Admir'd so for a spark, throughout the town?
Believe me, sir, on earth there cannot be
A more ridiculous trifling thing than he.

Epitaphs.

ON THE DEATH OF MRS.

If the remembrance of whate'er is dear,
Deserves the pious tribute of a tear,
Festow it on the dust that sleepeth near;
That precious dust, which living did comprise,
The fair, the good, the graceful, and the wise,
Bestow a tear, nor think thy sorrow lost,
Another, and another, should it cost;
The real worth of virtue ne'er is known
Till rais'd from earth to a celestial throne.

ON AN INFANT.

BY MR. COLERIDGE.

ERE Sin could blight, or Sorrow fade,
Death came with friendly care;
The op'ning Bud to Heav'n convey'd.
And bade it blossom there!

ON A MONKEY.

Written at the request of an Old Bachelor, nho had lost within a short period (beside poor Pug) an Owl, a Snake, and a Cat.

"Death's shafts fly thick:" one woe, 'tis said,
Upon another's heel doth tread !
Scarce had we ceas'd the funeral howl
For poor we-whit, my darling owl,
When lo! unsated yet with prey,
"The foul fiend snatch'd my snake away;
At pussey next, an arrow flew,
And silenc'd her enchanting mew:
Thus, inch by inch, of joy bereft,
My darling pug alone was left;
The monster saw the lovely prize

And snatch'd him from my aching eyes;
What now remains to sweeten life?
Nought but a magpie, or a wife!

ON SAUNTERING JACK AND IDLE JOAN.

Interr'd beneath this marble stone, Lie sauntering Jack, and idle Joan.

While rolling years threescore and one,
Did round this globe their courses run;
If human things went ill or well;
If changing empires rose or fell;
The morning past, the evening came,
And found this couple still the same.
They walk'd and eat, good folks! what then
Why, then they walk'd and eat again.
They soundly slept the night away:
They did just nothing all the day;
And having buried children four,
Would not take pains to try for more.
No sister either had, nor brother,
They seem'd just tally'd for each other.

Their moral and economy
Most perfectly they made agree,
Each virtue kept its proper bound,
Nor trespass'd on the other's ground.
Nor fame, nor censure they regarded;
They neither punish'd nor rewarded:
He car'd not what the footman did,
Her maids she neither prais'd nor chid;
So ev'ry servant took his course,
And bad at first, they all grew worse.
Slothful disorder fill'd his stable,
And sluttish plenty deck'd her table;
Their beer was strong; their wine was port,
Their meal was large-their grace was short:
They gave the poor the remnant meat,
Just when it grew not fit to eat.

They paid the church and parish rate, And took, but read not the receipt ; For which they claim'd their Sunday's due, Of slumb'ring in an upper pew. No man's defects sought they to know, So never made themselves a foe. No man's good deeds did they commend, So never made themselves a friend.

Nor cherish'd they relations poor, That might decrease their present store; Nor barn nor house did they repair, That might oblige the future heir.

They neither added, nor confounded; They neither wanted, nor abounded; Each Christmas they accounts did clear, And wound their bottom round the year.

Nor tear nor smile did they employ, At news of public grief, or joy. When bells were rung, and bonfires made, If ask'd they ne'er denied their aid; Their jug was to the ringers carried, Whoever either dy'd or marry'd. Their billet at the fire was found, Whoever was depos'd or crown'd.

BY THE HON. T. ERSKINE.-The Hon. T. Erskine was one evening taken suddenly ill at Lady Payne's; on her expressing a hope that his indisposition might not be serious, he answered her in the following Impromptu :

""Tis true I am ill, but I need not complain, "For he never knew pleasure, who never knew Payne!"

BY THE MARGRAVINE OF ANSPACH.-A certain fribble, well known in the polite circles, was asked by the Margravine of Anspach, if he had read a new publication of which the company was talking. "Pon honor, your High ness," replied he, "what with the avocations of dressing and visiting, I can hardly ever find time to look on a book." "I believe you, sir," answered the accomplished Margravine; and taking out her pencil, instantly wrote the following lines:

"Like the high Alps the head of Clodio shows, "Tho' odd, perhaps, the simile may sound; "Without, as white as its eternal snows,

AN EDITOR'S CRITICISM. Doctor Hill, afterwards Sir John Hill, author of a paper called "The Inspector," went into the GreenRoom of Covent-Garden Theatre, and, addressing himself to Mrs. Wothington, of crlebrated memory, and then the first actress in that house, he questioned her whether or not she had seen "The Inspector" of that day?She answered in the negative. The Doctor replied, if you had, you would have seen my opinion of your performance, last night, in the character of Culista. I am much obliged to

you, Sir, says the Lady, for your kind intention to me; but, unfortunately, the play of that evening was obliged to be changed to the Journey to London, in which I played the part of Lady Townley.

EASTERN CLEMENCY. The Emperor of China once had a narrow escape from assassination: the poniard was lifted against him, in the presence of his attendants, and he would have fallen a victim to the malice of the maniac, had not one of the mandarins luckily caught the wretch's arm. The Emperor (and it is stated as a signal mark of cleniency) contented himself with only ordering the execution of the assassin and two of his sons.

WHAT IS LOVE LIKE?-I would not compare love to Hiera piera, although it is assuredly the fact, that the effect of both is similar, both often making people exceedingly sick. This comparison may seem odd to some folks. They will not find it so, since there is scarcely any thing in nature, however opposite in its kind, which may not be compared to Love. Let us see:--Love is an evil spirit, because it torments us; like heaven, because it wraps the soul in bliss; like salt, because it is relishing; like pepper, because it often sets us on fire; like sugar, because it is sweet; like a rope, because it is often the death of a man; like a prison, because it makes one miserable; like wine, because it makes us happy; like a man, because it is here to-day and gone to-morrow; like a woman, because there is no getting rid of it; like a beacon, for it often guides one to the wished-for port; like a jack o'-lanthorn, because it often leads us into a bog; like a fierce courser, because it often runs away with one; like a little poney, because it ambles nicely with one; like the bite of a dog, or the kiss of a pretty woman, because it makes one run mad; like a goose, because it is silly; like a ghost, because it is like every thing and like nothing; often talked about, but never seen, touched, or understood.

FLATTERERS.-Lonis XIV. gave flatterers good pretexts, of which they were not slow to avail themselves. The bon môt of Boileau on the difference between grus and grand, is well known. There was less delicacy in the flattery of a Capuchin, who, preaching before this Monarch at Fontainebleau, began his discourse with "My brethren, we shall all die," then stopping short, and turning to the King, Yes, Sire, almost all of us shall die."-The most far fetched flattery was manifested towards this Monarch in his last years. Whilst they were ornamenting the gardens of Versailles, where Louvois thought on the expedient of placing statues on their pedestals rather inclined from the perpendicular: the inclination was great enough to be remarked by the King, who wished it to be rectified. Louvois maintained strongly that the statue was perpendicular.--Mansard and Le Notre, who were in the secret, took part with the Minister; the King imme

Having been a competent time at the univer sity and the inns of court, he completed his education by making the tour of Europe. He was happy in the love and esteem of his friends, and indeed all that knew him, as his heart was warm, and the virtues of it were conspicuous from his many acts of humanity, benevolence, and charity. When he was about forty years of age, his brother, an abandoned profligate, made an attempt upon his life with a pistol, which not going off, he wrested it from his hands; and found it charged with a double bullet. Hence he formed a resolution of retiring from the world; and taking a house in Grub-street, he reserved three rooms for himself; the first for his diet, the second for his lodging, and the third for his study.

In

these he kept himself so closely retired, that for forty-four years he was never seen by any human creature, except an old servant woman who attended him, who was only allowed to see him in some cases of great necessity. His diet was constantly bread, water-gruel, milk, and vegetables, and when he indulged himself most, the yolk of an egg. He bought all the new books that were published, most of which, upon a slight examination, he rejected. His time was regularly spent in reading, meditation, and prayer. No Carthusian monk was ever more constant and rigid in his abstinence. His plain garb, his long and silver beard, his mortified and venerable aspect, bespoke him an ancient inhabitant of the desert, rather than a gentleman of fortune in a populous city. He expended a great part of his income in acts of charity, and was very inquisitive after proper objects. He died the 29th of October, 1636, in the eighty-fourth year of his age, and lies

he went immediately to Sir Robert Southwel'. his uncle, to whom he related the particulars of this ghostly appearance, which were recorded, word for word, by the late Lord Egmont, as he received them from the mouth of Sir Robert, who communicated them to him a little before his death. Lord Egmont also mentions a dream of one Mrs. Brown, of Bristol, relative to the murder, which dream is said to have been exactly verified.

Epigrams.

BY LADY M-Y W-Y M -E, On being asked whether absence subdued or ended Love.

A little love deserves not passion's name,
A taper's light is hardly call'd a flame;
A transient wind extinguishes the fire,

And a short absence cools a small desire:
But when the heart on the whole vital preys,
E'on tempests but increase the pow'rful blaze,

ELMIRA'S EYE.

I scarce can blame thee foolish fly,
Vent'ring too near ELMIRA's eye,
For, giddy fly, thou still delightest

To wanton where the beams are brightest:
And many a gaudy insect round,
Doth court the death that thou hast found.

CIAN.

ment.

of

ROBERT PERCEVAL, ESQ. was, in early life, a youth of uncommon expectation, as, during his application to literary pursuits, he made a very considerable progress. He was some time of Christ's College, Cambridge, and afterwards entered at Lincoln's Inn; but being of a high spirit, and having a strong propensity to plea sure, he neglected his studies, and abandoned himself to his passions. He is said to have been engaged in no less than nineteen duels before he was twenty years of age. He was found in the Strand, apparently murdered by some assassins, who could never be discovered, after the strictest enquiry; but Fielding, the noted beau, with whom he was known to have had a quarrel, did not escape suspicion, A little before this tragical event, he, if himself might be credited, saw his own spectre bloody and ghastly, and was so shocked with the sight, that he presently swooned. Upon his recovery,

HELL's at length in possession of fam'd Dr. G. Whom the Citizens there are delighted to see; For they think, now he's fixed in those regions to dwell,

As he sent them from Earth, that he'll send them from Hell.

NIGIIT AND MORNING, CORINNA's quite a fright to me, While NED can only beauty see,

With every grace her form adorning! We both are wrong, and both are right; NED sees her still by candle-light,

But I have seen her in the morning!

ON A LADY SLEEPING.

When, for the world's repose my Celia sleeps, See, Cupid hovers o'er the maid-and weeps. Well may'st thou weep, fond boy! thy power dies,

Thou hast no darts, when Celia has no eyes.