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rary character was acquainted with the ridiculous story about Lord B's residence on that Island, but as you have inserted the letter in question without any comments, I hope you will excuse the liberty I take, in mentioning what is, I believe, the truth of the case.

When the Tale of the Vampyre first made its appearance, it caused a great noise among the literati, as it was generally believed to be written by Lord Byrong at the end of the Tale, was a Statement (from which Mr. How ard must have reaped his information) purporting to be an account of the manner in which Lord Byron had passed his time during his residence on the Island of Mitylene. In a short time it turned out, that the ground. work of the Tale of the Vampyre, was Lord Byron's, which had been enlarged upon by Dr. J. W. Polidori, during a stay at Geneva, and that on his (Dr. P's.) return to England, he left it by accident behind him; the manu script, however, was not slow in its travels, for it was, very soon after its writer's return, published (without either revision or correc tion) and palmed upon the public as a production of Lord Byron's, and in order that it might be something in the shape of a book, a few leaves at the end were filled up with a fabricated account of his Lordship's residence at Mitylene; but in a few months afterwards, (I think it was about last June or July) I remember reading in one of the daily papers, a letter from Lord Byron, which was written at Venice, and in which he stated, that he never wrote the Vampyre, and that he never was on the Island of Mitylene in his life, but that he recollected sailing past it.

With respect to the other parts of Mr. J. Howard's letter, I have very little to say, yet, I do think, that Lord Byron in carrying his jokes into the sphere of religion, is trying how far he really can go with his readers and admirers, before they become disgusted; but for my own part, I candidly confess, without considering myself liable to the imputation of being either an Atheist or a Deist--that were his subjects ten times more shocking to humanity, or ten times more horrible than they usually are, I should still read them with avidity and pleasure, because, in reading his works, I read the poet, and not the man.

If you think these observations of a Subscriber to the Tickler," worthy your attention, you are welcome to them, from Your obedient Servant, -t,

D

-e SJune 8, 1820,

Visions.

R. B. P.

SOLITARY MOMENTS.-No. II. More is meant than meets the ear. MILTON. IT was evening, and the mild rays of the set. wag sun sparkled on the river and embel

lished the surrounding scenery with tints of the mellowest radiance, when Alfredus way. dered into those umbrageous groves which fling their shadows round the far famed Un versity of Thegale, breathed soft, and seemed fluttering to expire-every cloud was vanished, except a bright crimson zone which invested the western horizon. The spirit of fragrance was stealing to his couch in the valley, where the silence was unbroken, save by the gentle dashing of oars from the various pleasure boats which were returning up the stream. The young and the fashionable were promenading the walks, and such an array of beauty and elegance he had never before witnessed. A band of musicians in an appropriate situation played some aquatic airs. It was im possible not to be ravished with the scene. Accordingly he fell into a profound reverie, and by the light of the moon, which now suspended her lamp in the firmament, some discovered an awful and dignified figure issuing from the portals of a magnificent temple, which might well have been deemed the babitation of superior beings. Her form was tall and majestic, her features symetrical, her deportment steady, and the lustre of her eye so uncommonly dazzling, that the gazer could not for awhile endure its blaze. She advanced towards him with graceful and regular steps, and though at a distance, her counte nance appeared rather forbidding; yet on a nearer approach, it brightened and bore traits of such fascinating sweetness, as excited his admiration, and engaged the warmest affec tions of his heart. She told him that the arts and the sciences were chiefly her offspring. That most of the "demi gods of fame" were indebted to her for their attainments; and that she now presided over the temple from which he had seen her issue. Then in a strain of the most fascinating eloquence, invited him to enter her retreat, and share the instructions of CLASSIC DISCIPLINE. This he felt inclined to do, and instantly followed her through a long succession of darksome glooms and intricate mazes, which terminated in a region where the day was never veiled with intervening vapours. She thus introduced him to a world of spirits, where Poets, Lawyers, and Divines, all seemed anxious to enrich him with their treasures. Here every branch of philosophy claimed his acquaintance, and polite literature exhausted her støres before him. Laden with those, he attempted to climb a glittering eminence, where Honour sat ready to invest him with a golden crown; but in stretching forth his hand to receive it, he was awakened from his reverie: and, instead of the sages of former times, and the diadem of fame, found himself surrounded by darkness, and saluted only by the minstrel of night, which poured forth a strain so melancholy, as elicited the responses of echo, and thrilled to the very centre of his soul.

To the Editor of The Tickler Magazine. SIR-Having met with the following Stanza in an old Book in my possession, I was struck with the similitude it bears to one in Don Juan, where the author describes the consequences of the crew feeding on the dead body of their companion at sea, for want of better provision.

For instance in Don Juan,

'Twas better that they did not, for in fact The consequence was awful in th' extreme, For they who were most ravenous in th' act Died raving mad! Lord how they did blaspheme! And groan and swear with strange convulsions rackt,

Drinking salt water like a mountain stream&c. &c. &c.

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And harrasses seldom or ever a fool," “If what you aver,” says one present "be trus "Tis a wonder the head ache should pitch upon you."

OPTICAL DECEPTIONS.

Tom runs from a wife to get rid of his trouble, He drinks, and he drinks till he sees things double. But when he has ceased, wine and brandy to mingle,

Oh what would he give to see himself single.

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As a vain would-be scholar sat with his head pen- Here sleeps, what once was beauty, once was

dant,

And complained of a terrible pain in his pole, "The head ache," said he, "is on genius attendBat,

grace;

Grace, that with tenderness and sense combin'd,

To form that harmony of soul and face, Where beauty shone the mirror of the mind.

Such was the maid that on the morn of youth,

ON AN INFANT.

In virgin innocence, in nature's pride, Blest with each art that owes its charms to truth, Oh! "why so soon," when just the flow'r appears,

Sunk in her father's fond embrace, and died! He weeps, Oh! venerate the holy tear;

Faith lends her aid, to ease affliction's load, The parent mourns his child upon the bier.

The christian yields an angel to his God.

Written extempore on an old Tomb-stone in a
Country Church-yard. By Sir John Ramsca.
TIME, that has worn the motto off this stone,
That hides the ashes of some unknown brother:
Brings to the spot a bard scarce better known,
Prompts the felt tear, and bids him write another.

A heav'nly fervour rushes o'er his mind,

With sacred zeal his conscious bosom glows; And as his heart feels from the world refin'd, Pure from his lips the gifted language flows. Thus, o'er the turf which, at no distant day, Shall on his own sad nameless relicks lie; Perchance, some soul congenial, led that way, May drop one tear, and heave one heart-felt sigh.

Tho' no proud verse, in sculptur'd boast appear, Once Genius warm'd, perhaps, the dust that now lies here.

In Northampton Church-yard.
Here lies the Clerk of St. John,
Who could a grave face put on;
When he did say amen
At any body's burying;
But when his own did come,
Why then he was quite dumb;
And was buried then,
For some one else to say amen.

In a Garden, written by a Lady.
Here Philomel shall love to dwell,

And her sad story nightly tell;
Here shall the bees, on eager wing,

Ambrosial offerings daily bring;
Here shall the willows ever weep,

Where Juliet takes her latest sleep;
And see! how fresh the verdure grows,

Strays the brief blossom, from the vale of tears;
Death viewed the treasure, to the desert given,
Claim'd the fair flow'r, and planted it in heav'u.

In South Molton Church-yard, Devonshire.
O sacred shade, the impious wish forgive,
That fain would have thee, yet a mortal live;
That fain would bring thee from celestial joys,
To these wild seats of vanity and noise;
Yet let my grief the rites of friendship pay,
And weep my sorrows o'er thy breathless clay;
Visit with just respect thy silent tomb,
And sooth my anguish in the mournful gloom.

AD AMICUM DEFUNCTİ.

Why should this stone remain without a verse,
Let me--here's room--some worthy deed rehearse;
You say, that in his life no feats he did,
So in the grave, let all his acts be hid.

Do pray take this, a truth none can deny,
He once did live, or else how could he die;-
The space he fill'd, and nothing is express'd,
I've nothing said, and yet I've said the best.

On the famous WILLIAM WALLWORTH, Tho
was a Fishmonger, by WEEVER.
Here under lyeth, a man of faine,
William Wallworth called by name;
Fishmonger he was in life time here,
And twice Lord Mayor as in works appear.
Who with courage stout, and mauly might,
Slew Wat Tyler, in King Richard's sight;
For which act alone, and true intent,
The king made him knight incontinent.
And gave him arms, as here you see,
To declare his fact and chivalry;
He left his life, the year of Our Lord,
Thirteen hundred, fourscore, three and odd.

ON JUSTICE RUSSELL. RUSSELL is dead! and what shall make us laugh, Has left a purse to buy an epitaph; He, who while living, but employed his thought, To gripe the needy, and to save his groat; And this beside-To stop the widow's tear? Ah! Virtue, no, what thou must blush to hear; To raise a column to perpetuate: The meanest mortal ever struck by fate. A wretch so vile, that on his dying night, He robb'd his infant offspring of their right; Know, gentle, Reader, that this Juliet was not Ye feeling Sires, who ask the reason why?

Where truth and innocence repose;
Light be the earth, blow sweet the rose,
Your fragrance every flower disclose, --
Where truth and innocence repose.

a Lady, but a lap-dog.

M. P.

But to enrich a public charity!

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having exhausted the perfume of the orange flowers of the Said, the essence of the roses of Fagoum, the sweets of the Arabian jasmine, and of every flower, are brought back to their homes where they find new riches. Thus do the Egyptians procure delicious honey, and plenty of wax. The proprietors pay the boatmen on their return, according to the number of the hives, which they have taken from one end of Egypt to the other.

Savary's Letters on Egypt, vol. ii. p. 270.

ཅ་རམསས

Gleanings.

ATHEISTS.-There have been men of this description who have undergone death and torments with as much cheerfulness as the best of men, animated with piety and devotion, ever did for religion. Jordanus Bruna, of Nola, who wrote "Spacio della Bestia triumphante," and Vaumini were both executed for openly professing and teaching of Atheism. The latter might have been pardoned the moment before the execution, if he would have retracted his doctrine, but, rather than recant, he chose to be burnt to ashes. As he went to the stake, he was so far from shewing any concern, that Le held out his hand to a physician whom he happened to know, desiring him to judge of the calmness of his mind by the regularity of his pulse. To these we may join one Mahomet Effendi, who, as Paul Ricant tells us, was put to death at Constantinople for advancing some notions against the existence of a God. He likewise might have saved his life, by confessing his error, and renouncing it for the future; but chose rather to perish in his opimons, saying, though he had no reward to expect. the love of truth constrained him to suffer martyrdom in its defence.

Note R. p. 238, to Fable of the Bee.

MANAGEMENT OF BEES IN EGYPT.-I have mentioned the art of hatching chickens, which is so peculiar to themselves. The manner of raising bees is not less extraordinary, and bespeaks not less ingenuity. Upper Egypt, preserving its verdure only four or five months, the flowers and harvest being seen no longer, the people of Lower Egypt profit by this circumstance, assembling on board large boats the bees of different villages. Each proprietor confides his hives, with his own mark, to the boatman, who, when loaded, gently proceeds up the river, and stops at every place where he finds verdure and flowers. The bees swarm From their cells at break of day, and collect their nectar, returning several times loaded with booty, and in the evening re-enter their hives without ever mistaking their abode. Thus sojourning three months on the Nile,

Humour.

Lines written by a Lady on a Window. The pow'r of love shall never wound my heart, Tho' he assail me with his fiercest dart. The Answer, written underneath by a Centle

man.

The Lady has her resolution spoken,
And writes on glass in hopes it may be broken.

More Provoking than Painful.

Where the number of Electors is so small as in a Scotch borough, much room is afforded for intrigue and foul play. Carrying off a Delegate, is nearly as common a prank, as carrying off an heiress in another country; and it has not unfrequently happened to a decent Scotch Baillie, to find himself gathering cockles on the Norway shore, when he should have been voting for a Representative for the great Council of the nation, in the Town Hall of his native burgh.

An amusing affair of this sort is related, in which the noted Lady Wallace, sister of the late Duchess of Gordon, figured, as the gay Entrapper. General Swas appointed Delegate for a borough, in an interest opposed to that of a party whose success had Lady Wallace's best wishes.

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On the eve of the elcetion, she sent an invitation to the General to partake of a tete-atete collation. The bait was tempting the General went; and when he expected to be ushered into her Ladyship's presence, he found himself suddenly locked up in a suit of apartments, where there was every thing convenient for supping, sleeping, &c. but no means of egress, except by a Trenk, or a De la Tude.

Lady W. amused herself in the interim, in an anti-chamber, where she stood sentinel, with writing the following lines: Ah! heavy my heart, and deep my remorse is,

The woes of this gallant gay hero to note; Commander in Chief of his Majesty's forces, In durance detain'd, and deprived of his vote.

Hark! how on the pannels he kicks and he scrawls,
With lily-white hands he batters the panes out;
In accents of anguish for succour he bawls,
Heav'n grant! that in fury he beat not his
brains out.

Imprompturs.

On a pretty Woman not possessed of a pretty
Temper, who desired the Author to draw
her Picture in Poelry.

A MIND of perverseness, a bosom of snow,
A face where the roses in petulance blow,
A smile that's a mask to an unsmiling heart,
A form less indebted to nature than art,
Some virtue retaining by obloquy lost,
A morning in May cover'd over with frost.

P. M. D. M.

Written on a rainy morning in Spring.

Fall, fall, ye gentle showers,
With influence unconfin'd,
Like love upon the wasted heart
That feels it could be kind.

Fall, fall, ye gentle showers,

So heavenly warm and mild,
Like tender tears a mother sheds
Upon her infant child.

Miscellanies.

ELECTIONEERING CATECHISM. ON a Dissolution of Parliament, the Candidate for some of the Country Boroughs frequently undergoes a pleasant sort of Catechism:

AFTER the loss of Minorca to the French the Secretary at War found in his Office, the following Billet:

SIR:-I was a Lieutenant with General Stan hope, when he took Minorca, for which he was made a Lord.-1 was a Lieutenant with Gen. Blakeney, when he lost Minorca, for which he was made a Lord.-I am a Lieutenant still. Yours, &c.

KING'S JESTER.

IN the Reign of Henry III. a crown was given by Royal authority to a person who made the King laugh: In the time of Edward II. an hearty laugh cost the King four crowns, In the Antiquarian repository, is the following article:-In one of the King's accounts, item. When the King was at Wolmer, to Morris, then clerk of the kitchen, who, when the king was hunting, did ride before the king, and often fall down from his borse, whereat the king langhed greatly—209.

JACK'S OBSERVATIONS.-The faithful des cription which modern voyagers are apt to give, often reminds one of the honest sailor, who wrote in his journal, "passed by Teneriffe at the distance of four leagues, the inhabitants of which place seemed very affable !!!

ORIGIN OF COCK-FIGHTING.

AFTER their victories over the Persians, the Athenians made a law, that on one day in every year there should be an exhibition of a Cock-fight.

This custom is said to have arisen from the following circumstance

:

When Themistocles led an army of his countrymen against the Barbarians, he sai two cocks fighting. The spectacle was not lost on him he made his army halt, and thus addressed them-" These Cocks," said he, "are not fighting for their country, for their paternal gods; nor do they endure this for the monument of their ancestors, for the sake of glory in the cause of liberty, or for their

"Will you, if I vote for you, get a Bridge offspring. The only motive is, that one is

built?'

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determined not to yield to the other.”

THE similarity of expression and sound, which exists between various words in the English language, whose meanings are of the most opposite nature, is often observable, and proves the occasion of many ludicrous mistakes. An instance of this kind lately occurred, and though only intended as a jest, will serve to illustrate the fact; a Chemist who had been much annoyed by the importunities of a Student in asking questions as to chemical processes, at one time was requested to inform him

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