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TICKLER MAGAZINE.

No. 10. VOL. II.]

LONDON, SUNDAY, OCTOBER 1, 1820.

Anecdotes.

LAVALETTE.

WHEN Lavalette had been liberated from prison by his wife, and was flying with Sir Robert Wilson to the frontier, the postmaster examined his countenance, and recognized him through his disguise. A postillion was instantly sent off at full speed. M. de Lavalette urged his demand for horses. The postmaster had just quitted the house, and given orders that none should be supplied. The travellers thought themselves discovered, and saw no means of escaping, in a country with which they were unacquainted; they resolved upon defending themselves, and selling their lives dearly. The postmaster at length returned unattended, and then addressing himself to M. de Lavalette, he said, “ you have the appearance of a man of honour; you are going to Brussels, where you will see M. de Lavalette; deliver him these two hundred Louis d'ors, which I owe him, and which he is no doubt in want of;" and without waiting for an answer, he threw the money into the carriage and withdrew, saying, " you will be drawn by my best horses, a postillion is gone on to provide relays for the continuance of your journey."

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JUDGMENT OF THE AREOPAGUS. THE decisions of the Areopagites of Athens have long been famous for their wisdom. The learned Phocius, in his Bibliotheque, expatiates with delight on one decision, which shews that it was a wisdom tempered with an admirable spirit of humanity. The Areopa gites were assembled together on a mountain, with no other roof but the canopy of heaven. A sparrow, pursued by a hawk, fled into the midst of them for refuge; it took shelter in the bosom of one of them, a man naturally of a harsh and repulsive disposition, who taking hold of the little trembler, threw it from him with such violence, that it was killed on the spot. The whole assembly were filled with indignation at the cruelty of the deed: the author of it was instantly arraigned as the alien to that sentiment of mercy so necessary to the administration of justice; and by the

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unanimous suffrages of his colleagues, was degraded from the senatorial dignity which he had so much disgraced.

SIR ISAAC NEWTON.

THE late Doctor Stukely, one day, by appointment, visiting Sir Isaac Newton, the servant said he was in his study. No one was permitted to disturb him there: but as it was near his dinner time, the visitor sat down to wait for him. After a while dinner was brought in; a boiled chicken under a cover, An hour passed, and Sir Isaac did not appear. The Doctor then eat the fowl; and covering up the empty dish, hid them dress their master another. Before that was ready, the great man came down: he apologized for his delay, and added, "give me but leave to take my short dinner, and I shall be at your ser vice; I am fatigued and faint." Saying this, he lifted up the cover; and without any emotion, turned about to Stukely with a smile, "sec," says he, "what we studious people are, I forgot I had dined."

THE CARDS SPIRITUALIZED.

ONE Richard Middleton, a soldier, attending divine service with the rest of the regiment, in a church in Glasgow, instead of pulling out a bible, like his brother soldiers, to find the parson's text, spread a pack of cards before him. This singular behaviour did not long pass unnoticed both by the clergyman and the serjeant of the company to which he be longed. The latter in particular commanded him to put up the cards: and on his refusal, conducted him after church before the mayor, to whom he preferred a formal complaint of Richard's indecent behaviour during divine service. "Well, soldier," said the mayor, "what excuse have you to offer for this strange, scandalous behaviour? If you can make any apology, or assign any reason for it, 'tis well: if you cannot, assure yourself that I will cause you to be punished for it." "Since your honour is so good," replied Richard, as to permit me to speak for myself, an't please your worship, I have been eight days upon the march, with a bare allowance of sixpence a-day, which your honour

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will allow is hardly sufficient to maintain a man in meat, drink, washing, and other necessaries; and consequently that he may want, without a bible, prayer-book, or any other good book." On saying this, Richard, drew out his pack of cards, and presenting one of the aces to the mayor, continued his address to the magistrate as follows:

Blunders.

CRITICISM.

Remarks of Dr.JOHNSON on a broken Metaphor in ADDISON'S Letter from Italy.

-Fired with that name,

I bridle in my struggling Juse with pain,
That longs to launch into a nobler strain.

TO bridle a goddess is no very delicate idea;
but why must she be bridled?— Because she
dered by a bridle; and whither will she launch?
longs to launch-an act which was never hin-

"When I see an ace, may it please your honour, it reminds me that there is only One God; and when I look upon a two, or a three, the former puts me in mind of the Father and Son; the latter of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. A four calls to my remembrance the four Evangelists, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John-a five, the five wise Virgins who were ordered to trim their lamps (there were ten, indeed; but five, your worship may remember, were wise, and five were foolish ;) —a six, that in six days God created Heaven and Earth;—a seven, that on the seventh day a he rested from all that he had made;-an eight of the eight righteous persons preserved from the deluge, viz. Noah and his wife, with his three sons and their wives;—a nine, of the lepers cleansed by our Saviour, (there were ten-but one only returned to offer his tribute of thanks ;)-and a ten of the ten commandments."

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Richard then took the knave, placed it beside him, and passed on to the queen, on which he observed as follows: This reminds me of the Queen of Sheba, who came from the uttermost parts of the earth to hear the wisdom of Solomon; as her companion the king does of the great King of Heaven, and of King George the Second.'

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Well," returned the mayor, "you have given me a very good description of all the cards, except the knave."

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If your honour will not be angry with me," returned Richard, "I can give you the same satisfaction on that, as any in the pack." 66 No," said the mayor.

"Well," returned the soldier, "the greatest knave I know is the serjeant who brought me before you."

"I don't know,” replied the mayor, "whether he be the greatest knave or no, but I am sure he is the greatest fool."

The soldier then continued as follows: "When I count the number of dots in a pack of cards, there are 365, so many days are there in a year. When I count how many cards are in a pack, I find 52, so many weeks are there in a year. When I reckon how many tricks are won by a pack, I find there are 13, so many months are there in a year. So that this pack of cards is both bible, almanack, and prayer-book to me."

The mayor called his servants, ordered them to entertain the soldier well, gave him a piece of money, and said he was the cleverest fellow he ever heard in all his life.

into a nobler strain: She is in the first line horse, in the second a boat, and the care of the Poet is to keep the horse in his boat from singing!

IGNORANCE.

AN honest farmer dying intestate, left two infant sons to the care of his brother, who wished to know if he could act as his executor:

he applied to man of moderate abilities for information, who advised him to consult a civilian. Having been brought to the presence of this gentleman, the following conversation too's place.

"Pray, sir, are you the civil-villain?” “Do you mean to insult me, sir?' -"It is for that purpose I am come, sir: my brother died detested; he has left two infidel children, and E wish to know If I can be their executioner."

Bon Mots.

LEGAL WIT.

WE frequently hear of strange jokes being cut in the Irish Courts; and it should seent that our own Lawyers are beginning to follow the facetious example of their lively brethren. How some of them succeed, may partly be gathered from the annexed statement:-At the late Somerset Assizes, in the case of Dod v. Tolson, (which was an action to recover the full charge of 3537. for thirty-five wedding dresses supplied by the plaintiff to the daughter of a Major Tolson,) it was remarked by Mr. Adams, that he should much like to see the learned Serjeant (Pell) in one of the said wedding dresses!-Upon this the learned Serjeant observed, that though he was exceedingly fond of a suit, it was a suit of another description!-The Judge (Mr. Justice Bur

rough) subsequently stopped Mr. Williams, who was reciting the items of the bill, and exclaimed," Mr. Williams, Mr. Williams; you have left out the petticoat!"-(This sally of the Judge caused much laughter in the court.) -Mr. Williams replied, "He was sorry to have done so; and hoped his lordship and his learned friends would do him the justice to believe, that he never did, when he had an opportunity, leave a petticoat untouched!" (Renewed laughter.)

KING CHARLES II. on a certain time pay. ing a visit to Doctor Busby, the doctor is said to have strutted through the school with his hat npon his head, while his Majesty walked complaisantly behind him, with his hat under his arm; but when he was taking his leave at the door, the doctor, with great humility, thus addressed the King: "I hope your Majesty will excuse my want of respect hitherto; but if my boys were to imagine there was a greater man in the kingdom than myself, I should never be able to rule them.”

WHEN Lord CHESTERFIELD was in administration, he proposed a person to his late Majesty as proper to fill a place of great trust, but which the king himself was determined should be filled by another. The council, however, resolved not to indulge the King, for fear of a dangerous precedent. It was Lord Chesterfield's business to present the grant of office for the King's signature. Not to incense his Majesty, by asking him abruptly, he, with accents of great humility, begged to know with whose name his Majesty would be pleased to have the blanks filled up? "With the devil's!" replied the King, in a paroxism of rage. "And shall the instrument," said the Earl, cooly, run as usual,Our trusty and well beloved cousin and counsellor ?" a repartee at which the King laughed heartily, and with great good huinour signed the grant.

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A FIRE happening at a public house, one of the crowd was requesting the engineer to play against the wainscot; but being told it was in no danger, "I am sorry for that," said he, “because I have a long score upon it, which I shall never be able to pay."

A SCHOOLMASTER hearing one of his scholars read, the boy, when he came to the word honour, pronounced it full; the master told him it should be pronounced without the H, as thus-onour "Very well, sir," replied the lad, "I will remember for the future." “Ay," said his master," Always drop the H." The next morning the master's tea, with a hot muffin, had been brought to his desk;

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but the duties of his avocation made him wait till it was cold; when speaking to the same boy, he told him to take the muffin to the fire and heat it: Yes, sir,” replied the scholar, and taking it to the fire, eat it. Presently the master calls for his muffin; "I have eat it, as you bid me," says the boy!" Eat it, you scoundrel? I bid you take it to the fire and heat it." "But, sir," answered the lad, "yesterday you told me always to drop the

H."

A MAN having fallen into a deep river, was assisted out by another, who happened to be passing. As he helped him up the bank he inquired of him if intoxication had been the cause of his falling in. The other, who was a wag, answered, “No, sir, I really did not find myself in liquor till I was over head and ears."

AN old man and a dashing young one conversing, the youth, to shew his penetration and discernment in the subject they were talking about, said he could smell a rat as far as any body. "So I should suppose," cried the old man, "by the length of your whiskers."

Epigrams.

SIMILIES.

TAILORS and woodcocks both agree,
But not in point of skills;
For both of them, we plainly see,
Do live by their long bills.

The tailors stitch, the woodcocks fly;
So both be quick and nimble :
The woodcock trusts unto his eye,
The tailor to his thimble.

On Mr.KEAN being charged before a Magistrate by a Female, with indiscreet familiarities.

KEAN is accus'd—and that is certain-
Of acting ill-behind the curtain;
But let's forgive him-I implore it-
He never acted ill before it.

JOHN BULL'S HORNS.

THE KING mplains not-it is now too late; The QUEEN, it seems, offends against the State! Though common sense the legal fiction scorns, Which to John Bull assigns the cuckold's horns! His own, 'tis fear'd, may turn against his keep

ers:

May they who sow the mischief be the reapers!

CHACUN A SON TOUR.

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FOR the sake of example let us state the case plain,

At the palace good ladies may still go to court, Whilst the bad may be seen at some other resort,

On the question of morals then who can complain?

For the Ministers thus obtain all they want, And the best may turn bad, and the bad may turn best,

Thus their morals may float and rivalship rest, And an end will be put to hypocritical cant.

Epitaphs.

WRITTEN BY POPE.

ON CHARLES EARL OF DORSET,
In the Church of Wythyham in Sussex.
DORSET, the grace of couts, the Muses pride,
Patron of arts, and judge of nature, dy'd.
The scourge of pride, tho' sanctify'd or great,
Of fops in learning, and of knaves in state;
Yet soft his nature, tho' severe his lay,
His anger moral, and his wisdom gay.
Blest satyrist! who touch'd the mean so true,
As show'd vice had his hate and pity too.
Blest courtier; who could king and country
please,

Yet sacred keep his friendships, and his ease.
Blest peer! his great forefathers ev'ry grace
Reflecting, and reflected on his race;
Where other Buckhursts, other Dorsets shine,
And patriots still, or poets, deck the line.

ON JAMES CRAGGS, Esq.

In Westminster-Abbey.

JACOBUS CRAGGS,
Regi Magnæ Britanniæ a Secretis

Et Consiliis Sanctioribus,
Principis Pariter ac Populi Amor et
Deliciæ:

Vixit Titulis et Invidia Major,
Annos Heu Paucos, xxxv.
Ob. Feb. XVI. MDCCXX.

STATESMAN, yet friend to truth! of soul sincere,

In action faithful, and in honour clear

Who broke no promise, serv'd no private end, Who gain'd no title, and who lost no friend; Ennobled by himself, by all approv❜d,

Prais'd wept and honour'd by the Muse he lov'd.

ON SIR WILLIAM TRUMBUL, One of the principal Secretaries of State to King WILLIAM III. who having resigned his place, died in his retirement at Easthamsted in Berkshire, 1716.

A pleasing form, a firm, yet cautious mind,
Sincere, tho' prudent; constant, yet resign'd;
Honour unchang'd, a principle profest,
Fix'd to one side, but mod'rate to the rest:
An honest courtier, yet a patriot too,
Jrst to his prince, and to his country true.
Fill'd with the sense of age, the fire of youth,
A scorn of wrangling, yet a zeal for truth;
A gea'rous faith, from superstition free;
A love to peace, and hate of tyranny;

Such this man was; who now, from earth reπιον'd,

At length enjoys that liberty he lov'd.

ON THE HON. SIMON HARCOURT, Only Son of the Lord Chancellor HarcouRT; at the Church of Stanton-Harcourt in Oxfordshire, 1720.

TO this sad shrine, whoe'er thou art, draw near!
Here lies the friend most lov'd, the son most dear:
Who ne'er knew joy but friendship might divide,
Or gave his father grief, but when he dy'd.

How vain is reason, eloquençe how weak!
If Pope must tell what Harcourt cannot speak.
Oh, let thy once-lov'd friend inscribe thy stone,
And, with a father's sorrows, mix his own!

INTENDED FOR MR. ROWE.
In Westminster-Abbey.

THY reliques. Rowe, to this fair urn we trust,
And sacred place by Dryden's awful dust:
Beneath a rude and nameless stone he lies,
To which thy tomb shall guide inquiring eyes.
Peace to thy gentle shade, and endless rest!
Blest by thy genius, in thy love too blest!
One grateful woman to thy fame supplies
What a whole thankless land to his denies.

On the Monument of the Hon. ROBERT DIGBY, and of his Sister MARY, erected by their Father the Lord DIGBY, in the Church of Sherborne in Dorsetshire, 1727.

GO! fair example of untainted youth,
Of modest wisdom, and pacific truth:
Compos'd in suff'rings, and in joy sedate,
Good without noise, without pretension great.
Just of thy word, in ev'ry thought sincere,
Who knew no wish but what the world might
hear:

Of softest manners, unaffected mind,
Lover of Peace, and friend of human kind:
Go, live! for heaven's eternal year is thine,
Go, and exalt thy moral to divine.

And thou, blest maid! attendant on his doom,
Pensive hast follow'd to the silent tomb,

Steer'd the same course to the same quiet shore,
Not parted long, and now to part no more!
Go, then, where only bliss sincere is known!
Go, where to love and to enjoy are one!

Yet take these tears, mortality's relief,
And 'till we share your joys, forgive our grief:
These little rites, a stone, a verse receive,
'Tis all a father, all a friend can give!

ON MRS. CORBET,

Who died of u cancer in her breast.

HERE rests a woman, good without pretence,
Blest with plain reason, and with sober sense:
No conquests she, but o'er herself desir'd;
No arts essay'd, but not to be admir'd.
Passion and pride were to her soul unknown,
Convinced that virtue only is our own.
So unaffected, so compos'd a mind,
So firm, yet soft, so strong, yet so refin'd,
Heav'n, as its purest gold, by tortures try'd,
The saint sustain'd it, but the woman dy'd.

ON SIR GODFREY KNELLER.

In Westminster-Abbey, 1723.

KNELLER, by Heav'n, and not a master taught, Whose art was nature, and whose pictures thought;

Now for two ages, having snatch'd from fate
Whate'er was beauteous, or whate'er was great,
Lies crown'd with princes honours, poets lays,
Due to his merit, and brave thirst of praise.
Living, great Nature fear'd he might outvie
Her works; and, dying, fears herself may die.

ON GENERAL HENRY WITHERS. In Westminster-Abbey, 1729. HERE, WITHERS, rest! thou bravest, gentlest mind,

Thy country's friend, but more of human kind.

O! born to arms! O! worth in youth approv'd!

O! soft humanity in age belov'd!
For thee the hardy vet'ran drops a tear,
And the gay courtier feels the sigh sincere.

WITHERS, adieu! yet not with thee remove
Thy martial spirit, or thy social love!
Amidst corruption, luxury, and rage,
Still leave some ancient virtues to our age:
Nor let us say, (those English glories gone)
The last true Briton lies beneath this stone.

Foe to loud praise, and friend to learned ease,
Content with science in the vale of peace.
Calmly he look'd on either life, and here
Saw nothing to regret, or there to fear;
From nature's temp'rate feast rose satisfy'd,
Thank'd heav'n that he had liv'd, and that he
dy'd.

Humour.

THE COUNTRY SURGEON.

Agricolam laudat

Sub galli cantum tonsultor ubi ostia pulsat.

LUCKLESS is he whom hard fates urge on,
To practice as a country surgeon,
To drag a heavy galling chain,
The slave of all for paltry gain;
To ride regardless of all weather,
Through frost and snow, and hail together,
To smile and bow when sick and tir'd,
Consider'd as a servant hir'd:
At every quarter of the compass,
A surly patient makes a rumpus,
Because he is not seen the first,

(For each man thinks his case the worst)
And oft at two points diametric,
Call'd to a business obstetric.
There lies a man, with broken limb,
A lady here with nervous whim,
Who, at the achme of her fever,
Calls him a savage if he leave her.
For days and nights in some lone cottage,
Condemn'd to live on crusts and pottage,
To kick his heels and spin his brains,
Waiting, forsooth, for labour pains,
And, that job o'er, happy he,
If he squeeze out a guinea fee.
Then worn like culprit on the wheel,
He sits him down to hasty meal;
He sits-when lo! a patient comes
With rotten tooth and putrid gums;

The doctor takes his dentist tools,
Fixes the screw, and tugs and pulls;
His dinner cold, his hands this mess in,
All for a shilling or a blessing.
Now comes the night, with toil opprest,
He seeks his bed in hope of rest;
Vain hope, his slumbers are no more,
Loud sounds the knocker at the door,
A farmer's wife, at ten miles distance,
Groaning calls out for his assistance;
Fretting and fuming in the dark,
He in the tinder strikes a spark,
And as he yawning heaves his breeches,
Eavies his neighbour blest with riches.

QUIZ.

ON MR. ELIJAH FENTON.

At Easthamsted in Berkshire, 1730. THIS modest stone, what few vain marbles can, May truly say, here lies an honest man: A Poet, blest beyond the poet's fate, Whom hear'n kept sacred from the proud and great:

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MISERIES

Of the first of September.

RAIN come on, when just begun, Spoils the powder in your gun; Birds are flush'd, and pointer best; Nothing in your bag to eat;

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