Lawyers, poets, priests, physicians,
Noble simple, all conditions;
Worth beneath a thread-bare cover,
Villainy bedaub'd all over.

Women black, red, fair, and grey,
Prudes, and such as never pray;
Handsome, ugly, noisy, still,
Some that will not-more that will.

Many a beau without a shilling,
Many a widow not unwilling;
Many a bargain, if you strike it.

This is London 1-How do you like it?

Talès.

THE TANKARD.

BY THE REV. MR. BISHOP,

"O John," says she, "am I to blame? I can't, in conscience, stop:

For, sure, 't would be a burning shame, To leave the Devil a drop!”

Trifles.

SPECIMENS OF A NEW DICTIONARY.

Author.-One who never lives till he dieswho makes less money in a year than an underwriter in an hour--who lies at the mercy of reviews, newspapers, printers' devils, &c.

Barrister. One who lives by agitation, altercation, consultation, cross-examination, and botheration-who proposes arbitration on the day of trial-returns brief, but keeps fee.

Banker-One who never opens shop till after breakfast-shuts before tea- and who takes three days grace before he gives one dinner.

Fashion.-A thing which scouts the City, and yet is often found in Duke-street, from the

School.

No plate had John and Joan to hoard; Plain folk, in humble plight:

One only Tankard crown'd their board, And that was fill'd each night!

Along whose inner bottom, sketch'd,
In pride of chubby grace,
Some rude engraver's hand had etch'd,
A baby Angel's face,

John swallow'd, first, a mod'rate sup:

But Joan was not like John; For, when her lips once touch'd the cup, She swill'd till all was gone.

John often urg'd her to drink fair; But she ne'er chang'd a jot: She lov'd to see the Angel there;

And, therefore, drain'd the pot.

When John found all remonstrance vain,
Another card he play'd;

And, where the Angel stood so plain,
A Devil got pourtray'd.

Joan saw the horns, Joan saw the tail,
Yet Joan as stoutly quaff'd;
And ever, when she seiz'd her ale,
She clear'd it at a draught.

John star'd, with wonder petrified!

His hairs rose on his pate; And-"Why dost guzzle now!" he cried, "At this enormous rate?"

makes my Lord and Lady sleep in separate beds, or, if in the same, one of so wide an extent, that it appears as if placed in different parishes; so that while my Lady sleeps in one parish, my Lord snores in another,

Dun.-One whose visits are always so welcome, that, in the great squares at the west-end of the town, he is constantly asked to call again,

DOCTOR BOS.

With a big bottle nose and an acre of chin,
His whole physiognomy ugly as sin;
With a huge frizzled wig, and triangular hat,
And a snuff-besmear'd handkerchief tied over that
Doctor Bos, riding out on his fierce Rosinante,
In hair very rich, but in flesh very scanty,
Was no little alarmed, through zeal for his bones,
Seeing Hodge cross the road with a barrow of

stones.

"Hip, friend!" roar'd the Doctor, with no little force,

"Prithee set down your barrow, 'twill frighten my horse."

Hodge directly replied, and as pert as a sparrow, "You're a great deal more likely to frighten my barrow."

A SEXTON'S SOLILOQUY, Written after viewing a Grand Funeral. Hail, shrouded stranger! welcome to thy cell, All Friends have left thee, with their last farewell; Back to the noisy town they wept their way, Where sorrow moulders, and where griefs decay.

COUNSELLOR O'GARNISII.

We take shame to ourselves (says a London paper) for not having sooner noticed the very able address to the Court of King's Bench, during the last Term, of a Barrister from the sister kingdom, in the cause Serge against Sabretach. The following is, we believe, a pretty correct report of it:

"When I look around me, and above me, and below me, and dizzily ponder over the tide of time, which, rolling through this elevated edifice, sweeps the mighty and the mean to one common hourne, whence, as the poet of nature informs us, no traveller returns-when I reflect that the Court which I now address, nay, perhaps the very segment of the seat I now occupy, was heretofore enlightened by that Aurora Borealis of legal effulgence, which formed a halo on the brows of a Danning and a Mansfield, I feel rooted with terror to the ground, and paralyzed in my lower extremities, like the marble-thighed monarch in the Arabian Tales. Would to Heaven that the red-haired Founder of this venerable Hall had snatched Tyrrell's dart from his own bosom, and plunged it into mine, ere I had essayed this office! But the different epochs of our existence check the wish! My Lords, my client, the plaintiff, is of the useful class of beings (nine of whom were heretofore supposed to constitute a man,) who give broad-cloth to the back-serge to the stomach-buckram to the body-thickset to the thigh! His manners are modest-his conduct is creditable-his shop is shewy-and his residence is Ratcliffe, The defendant is an Officer of Dragoons, recently drawn from the purlicus of Pall Mall, and quartered at Hounslow. Luckily for him the days of drawing and quartering are over, or wrongs like my client's might justify the corporeal partition. It might be accident, it might be design, which caused Captain Sabretach, on a visit to Wapping Docks, to lounge over Ratcliffe Highway. Attracted by these words, " Serge, tailor and habit-maker," he halted at the plaintiff's door. An elegant pelisse with arms extended, hung swinging on the door-post-he entered the shop, and with a blandishment well suited to the perfidy of his purpose, he ordered a pelisse of the same materials and workmanship. The superb ornament started like the web of Arachne from the fingers of the plaintiff's journeyman, and on the Monday week following, the defendant issued from the Hounslow Barrack, the envy and admiration of his booted brethren. collar was of sable fur. Give me a suit of sables,' cried he, mimicking the march of the duke of Denmark; but when he would have added the Devil wears black,' the Dæmon of Darkness stuck in his throat. My Lords, you are, (and long may you continue to be,) clad in the robes of office, and you know what fur is. When you reflect that the pelisse was of extra-superfine French brown; that bands of

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braids were buttoned on the bosom, with a fork of ditto behind; that the side seams were finely and fully figured; that the tassels were tamboured; and that frogs, presumptuous as those of Pharoall, enveloped the defendat from chitterlin to chine, you will not, I am sure, elevate your eye-brows with extra astonishment, when you learn that the price de manded was seventeen ponuds fouricen shillings and sixpence. The plaintiff was pressing -the defendant was dunned; but cash not being forthcoming, the plaintiff drew a bill of exchange for the amount, which the defendan accepted, payable at Messrs, Child and Company's, Temple Bar. The bill was presented when due, and was noted for non-payment.God forbid that I should impute any blame t Messrs. Child and Company. Their answe. was No effects;' and after sedulous enquiry I find that when a man has no money in a bauker's hands, such banker is not bound to pay his drafts. This, my Lords, the defend. ant must have known. His acceptance, therefore, was a mockery of the lace-merchant: it was buttering the bacon of baseness; it was thrusting the red-hot poker of pertness into the already blazing conflagration of my client's grievances. The defendant now threw away the scabbard, and the plaintiff drew the sword. He sued out a writ, in the name of George the Third, of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland; Ireland, that emerald in its unfathomed caves of despotism; that hapless tin kettle, doomed to be eternally appurtenant to the tail of the dog of war. A declaration was filed, cautiously containing counts for goods sold and delivered, and for work and labour, with a notice to plead in eight days, Even now the plaintiff did more than by legal courtesey he was bound to perform. He de manded a plea-how primitive the process!— otherwise judgment-how awful the alternative.

"This was contumeliously contended; it was treated as Brutum Fulmen. But the plaintiff, my Lords, was no mimic Jove, bantering and blustering from a bridge of brass; Serge, and not Sulmoneus, was the antagonist, whom the defendant was to cope with. The bolt was hurled, and interlocutory judgment was signed for want of a plea. At this stage of the proceedings, the plaintiff's Attorney put into my unexperienced hands an affidavit of the cause of action. The motion he wished me to submit to your Lordships was novel and arduous. Seniors in silk, and Puisnes in prunella, would have shrunk from its experi ment. But full of my client's wrongs, and swelling like the Sybil with my subject, even so humble an individual as myself now ventures to move your Lordships-that it may be referred to the Master to compute principle and interest on the bill of exchange upon which this action is brought!!!"

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

VOL. 1. No. 10.]

Anecdotes.

MILTON, when a student at Cambridge, was extremely handsome. One day, in the summer, overcome with heat, and fatigued with walking, he laid himself down at the foot of a tree, and slept. During his sleep, two ladies passed by in a carriage. The beauty of the young student attracted their attention; they got out of their carriage, and, after having con templated his features some time, without his waking, the youngest lady, who was very handsome, took a pencil from her pocket, and wrate some lines on a piece of paper, and. tremblingly put them into his hand. The two ladies returned to their carriage, and passed on.

Milton's fellow-students, who were seeking for him, observed this silent scene at a distance, without knowing it to be him who was sleep ing: on approaching, knowing their associate, they waked him, and told him what had passed. He opened the paper which was put into his hand; and read, to his great astonishment, these lines from Guarini

"Occhi, stelle mortali, "Ministri de miei mali, "Se chiusi m' nccedite, "Apperti che farete?" "Beautiful eyes, mortal stars, authors of my "misfortune! If ye wound me being closed, what would ye do if open ?"

DR. JOHNSON.As we had been saying one day, that no subject failed of receiving dignity froin the manner in which the Doctor treated it, a lady at my house said, she would make him talk about love; and took her measures accordingly, derided the novels of the day because they treated about love." It is not,' replied our philosopher," because they treat, as you call it, about love, but because they treat of nothing, that they are despicable. We must not ridicule a passion, which he who never felt never was happy, and he who laughs at never deserves to feel-a passion which has caused the change of empires, and the loss of worldsa passion which has inspired heroism, and subdued avarice."

DEAN SWIFT, whose character is well known, having dined one day at a Lord Mayor's feast in Dublin, was teazed by an opulent, boisterous, half-intoxicated squire, who happened to sit next to him: he bore the aukward raillery for some time, and then on a sudden called out in a loud voice to the Mayor, "My Lord, here is one of your bears at my shoulders; I desire you will order him to be taken off."

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HENRY THE FOURTH of France was one of the most amiable princes that ever swayed a sceptre he was dignified without pride, wild without pusillanimity, and generous without prodigality. He used frequently to observe, that "the satisfaction to be derived from revenge was momentary, but that which was gained from clemency lasted for ever."

a

The same prince, upon being informed that person, who was under great obligations to him, returned his kindness with ingratitude, replied, "Well, then, I will be still kinder to him, which will oblige him to love me!"

The Duchess de la Tremouille, who was a Protestant, was one day repeating to Henry some scandalous reports against one of the fathers, whom he patronized; upon which he sarcastically replied, "Madami, do but observe the spirit of your religion: it prevents you from believing in the Pope, at the same time that it inclines you to believe a calumny!”

Upon being advised to act in a manner that he thought ungenerous, he exclaimed, "He who would give me such advice is no trae friend of mine, but one that would destroy my honour. Whoever affects my good faith, gives me more uneasiness than if he affects my

throne."

This Prince read with pleasure every thing that was published concerning his operations; for under his reign, every one enjoyed free liberty of speaking, writing, and printing; and Truth, which he sought after every where, came in her turn, even to the throne to seek him. The greatest compliment which can be paid to kings, is to believe them worthy to attend to her voice. Unhappy must that reign be, where the history of it is obliged to conceal its author. L'Etoile relates, that Henry having read the book called the Anti-Soldier, asked his secretary of state, Villeroy, if he had seen this work, and upon his replying in the negative: It is right you should see it," said he, it is a book which takes me finely to task, but is still more severe on you."

"for

ECCENTRIC HOSPITALITY.-During the late American war, a soldier, who had been wounded and honourably discharged (but, perhaps, not paid), being destitute and benighted, knocked at the door of an Irish farmer, when the following dialogne ensued:

Patrick-And who the devil are you now? Soldier-My name is John Wilson. Patrick-And where the devil are you going from, John Wilson?

Soldier-From the American army at Erie,

Sir?

Soldier-I am dying with hunger: give me but a bone and a crust; I ask no more.

Patrick-The devil blow me if I do, Sirthat's flat.

Soldier-Give me some water to quench my thirst, I beg of you.

Patrick-Beg and belianged, I'll do no such thing-that's flat.

Soldier-Sir, I have been fighting to secure the blessings you enjoy; I have assisted in contributing to the glory and welfare of the country which has hospitably received you, and can you so inhospitably reject me from your house?

Patrick-Reject you! who in the devil talked a word about rejecting you? May be I am not the scurvy spalpeen you take me to be, John Wilson. You asked me to let you lie on my floor, my kitchen floor, or in my stable; now, by the powers, d'ye think I'd let a perfect stranger do that, when I have half a dozen soft feather beds, all empty? No, by the Hill o Howth, John, that's flat. In the second place, you told me you were dying with hunger, and wanted a bone and a crust to eat; now, honey; d'ye think I'll feed a hungry man on bones and crust, when my yard is full of fat pullets, and tarkeys, and pigs? No, by the powers, not I— that's flat. In the third place, you asked me for some simple water to quench your thirst; now, as my water is none of the best, I never give it to a poor traveller without mixing it with plenty of wine, brandy, whiskey, or something else wholesome and cooling. Come into my house, my honey; devil blow me, but you shall sleep in the best feather bed I have; you shall have the best supper and breakfast that my farm can supply, which, thank the Lord, is none of the worst; you shall drink as much water as you choose, provided you mix it with plenty of good wine or spirits, and provided also you prefer it. Come in my hearty, come in, and feel yourself at home. It shall never be said, that Patrick O'Flaherty treated a man scurvily who has been fighting for the dear country which gave him protection-that's flat.

THE LATE BISHOP OF ST. ASAPH.-A violent Welch Squire having taken offence at a poor Curate, who employed his leisure hours in ending clocks and watches, applied to the late Bishop of St. Asaph with a forinal complaint against him for impiously carrying on a trade contrary to the statute. His Lordship

having heard the complaint, told the Squire he might depend upon it that the strictes justice should be done in this case. Accordingly, the mechanie divine was sent for a few days after, when the Bishop asked him, “How dare he disgrace his diocese by becoming a mender of clocks and watches? The other, with all humility, answered, "to satisfy the wants of a wife and 10 children. That wont do with me," rejoined the prelate, "I'll inflict such a punishment upon you as shall make you leave off your pitiful trade, I promise you," and immediately calling to his secretary, ordered him to make out a presentation to the astonished curate of a living of at least 1501. per annum.

Bon Mots.

DIRTY HOUSE OF COMMONS.-A Scotch gentleman, some years ago, having been a cused

of using disrespectful language, when speaking of the House of Commons, was condemned by that august assembly, to make an apology, kneeling at the bar; which he readily complied with, Rising from the ground, and taking out his pocket handker chief, he fell a wiping his knees, saying re peatedly, loud enough to be heard by all the Members near him, This is a damn'd DIRTY House!!"—and very narrowly escaped a second commitment.

PURITY OF PARLIAMENT.-A wag well a quainted with the corruption of the flouse of Commons, when hearing Bishop Goodenough preaching before the members of that august assembly, on his translation to the See of C thus expressed himself,

"It was well enough that Goodenough before the house did preach,

"For sure enough that bad enough were those he had to teach."

PROFESSOR PORSON.-One of the most

pointed and severe satires that perhaps ever

was uttered, was made by Professor Porson,

a short time before his death. Being in a mixed company, among which were many eminent literary characters, and particularly Mr. S ***** y the poet, who has a very high opinion of his own talents; the conversation turned on some of his productions, when, as usual, he began to extol their merits. “I will tell you, Sir," said Mr. Porson, "what I think of your poetical works: they will be read, when Shakespeare's and Milton's are forgotten, (every eye was instantly upon the Professor), NOT TILL THEN!"

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