Were earth but one haram of beauty, yet there The glance of her eye would be lightest; Then should not the wreathe for the brow of my fair Be wove of each flower that is brightest. HUMILITY'S COT BY THE SEA.* Fair island, thine equal, say where is it found? Here FRIENDSHIP and PLENTY invite, Here Love and the GRACES, dance constantly round, And the PLEASURES Sweet garlands unite; Go health breaking traffic, I quit you awhile, For treasures more lasting, which never beguile; Here PEACE Softly fans her bright wings over me, As I muse in HUMILITY'S Cot by the Sea. Hence ye Fops entertain all the pleasures of dress, In raptures to Chloe still kneel and profess Let the Lord bribe his tenants, 'gainst conscience, to vote, Let him swear in all things to be true; Yes, let him succeed, and still alter his note, As lordlings are oft known to do; I'll envy him not in his Parliament seat, My wish fertile VECTA shall still be complete ; While Health spreads her mantle, and Peace keeps the key, To muse in HUMILITY'S Cot by the Sea. Let the 'Squire tell of Coursers the fleetest on earth, In the chace none of spirits so free; Let him boast of alliance to titles and worth, And still scorn to look down upon me; Such pastime to him may much rapture afford, Well, let it, I'll follow nor such, nor my Lord; But O SHANKLING thy shores and each Rock and each tree, Or still muse in HUMILITY'S Cot by the Sea. Let Priests press the needy, Church-tythes to obtain, Let them scorn to live up to their lore; Let them frown on the wretch who presumes to complain, And resolve to oppress him the more; Go Fops, Lords, and Prelates, such maxims pursue, I shall sigh for the poor, and still frown upon you, And wish the sad realm from such ills may be free, As I muse in HUMILITY'S Cot by the Sea. Written in the Fisherman's-Hut, Dun-nose, Isle of Wight, 1794. FROM MAY TO MAY. From strawy cots the honey-bees To charm while Summer's gay, Where (but for hope that comfort brings) I'd never spend a day; From this blest source my rapture springs, To breathe with thee the May. The while we trace the mountain top, As oft I trace my groves alone, For thee, dear maid, I sigh; O think, how time, that stays for none Too soon shall come the winter drear To mock the seasons gay, For long departed May. Come, then, nor yet a moment waste, While scenes like these invite; Will I beside thee stay, Printed and Published for the Proprietors, by J. WHITE, 41, Holywell-street, Strand, and may be had of all Booksellers. TICKLER MAGAZINE. No. 6. VOL. II.] LONDON, THURSDAY, JUNE 1, 1820. Anecdotes. INTERESTING ANECDOTE Of a Girl romantically in Love. “But, oh! there wants to crown my happiness, "Life of my Empire, treasure of my soul!" I HAVE noted (says Kotzebue in his "Journey to Paris,") an anecdote, which is said to have happened very recently, and which will touch the feelings of most readers, as it did mine. She was playing on the harpsichord, and her lover used often to accompany her on the harp; he died, and his harp had remained in her room. After the first excess of despair, she sunk into the deepest melancholy, and much time elapsed ere she could sit down to her instrument. At last she did so, gave some touches, and, hark! the harp, tuned alike, resounded in echo! The poor girl was at first seized with a secret shuddering, but soon felt kind of soft melancholy. She thought herself firmly persuaded, that the spirit of her lover was softly sweeping the strings of the instrument. The harpsichord, from this moment, constituted her only pleasure, as it afforded her the joyful certainty, that her lover was still hovering about her. One of those unfeeling men, who want to know and clear up every thing, once entered her apart ment; the girl instantly begged him to be quiet, for that very moment the dear harp spoke most distinctly. Being informed of the amiable illusion which overcame her reason, he laughed, and, with a great display of learning, proved to her, by experimental physics, that all this was very natural. From that instant the maiden grew melancholy, drooped, and soon after died. FREDERICK THE GREAT. FREDERICK the Great being informed of the death of one of his chaplains, a man of considerable learning and piety, determining that his successor should not be behind him in these qualifications, took the following method of ascertaining the merit of one of the numerous candidates for the appointment: -He told the applicant, that he would himself furnish him with a text the following Sunday, when he was to preach at the Royal Chapel, sermon. [PRICE 6d. The from which he was to make an extempore The clergyman accepted the proposition. The whim of such a probationary discourse was spread abroad widely, and at an early hour the Royal Chapel was crowded to excess.-The King arrived at the end of the prayers, and on the candidate's ascending the pulpit, one of his Majesty's aides-de-camp presented him with a sealed paper. preacher opened it, and found nothing written therein: he did not, however, in so critical a moment, lose his presence of mind; but turning the paper on both sides, he said, "My brethren, here is nothing, and there is nothing; out of nothing God created all things,"-and proceeded to deliver a most admirable discourse upon the wonders of the creation. ANECDOTE OF DR. ARNE. THE writer of this article having, many years ago, accompanied the Doctor to Cannons, the seat of the late Duke of Chandos, to assist at the performance of an oratorio in the Chapel of Whitchurch, such was the throng of company that no provisions were to be procured at the Duke's house.-On going to the Chandos Arms, in the town of Edgeware, we made our way into the kitchen, where we found nothing but a solitary leg of mutton on the spit. This, the waiter informed us, was bespoke by a party of gentlemen. The Doctor (rubbing his elbow-his usual manner) says to me, "I'll have that mutton-give me a fiddle-string." He took the fiddle-string, cut it in pieces, and privately sprinkling it over the mutton, walked out of the kitchen. Then waiting very patiently till the waiter had served it up, he heard one of the gentlemen exclaim-" Waiter! this meat is full of maggots, take it away." This was what the Doctor expected, who was on the watch.— "Here, give it me."-"O, Sir," says the waiter, "you can't eat it-'tis full of maggots." -"O never mind," cries the Doctor, " "fiddlers have strong stomachs." So bearing it away, and scraping off the fiddle strings, we made a hearty dinner on the apparently maggotty mutton. A COUNTRY CLERGYMAN, in the reign of Charles II. being intruded upon by a great company of hungry gentlemen, who came to his house, after he had told them that they were perfectly welcome, and ordering his servant to hasten dinner, took his gown and prayer book, and made as if he was going out. "Where are you going, Doctor?" said the gentleman; he answered, "I will return in a minute, for I must go, while the dinner is getting ready, to pray by a poor man dying of the plague"-upon saying this, he went out immediately, and was quickly followed by all his visitors, who fled as if the plugue was actually at his heels. BAITINA. It is a much admired anecdote of the despotic influence which Baitina the famous Chief, so celebrated in the history of the Crusades, by the name of the Old Man of the Mountain, had over his followers. When this Chieftain bad become powerful and terrible to the surrounding princes, he drew at length the attention of the Sultan Jelalo, who sending to him an Ambassador to require his submission, he thus received him :When the Ambassador appeared in his presence, he called before him some of his people, and giving the signal to a young man among them, said to him, stab yourself, and he did so; he ordered then another, to precipitate himself from the Castle, which he did, and was dashed to pieces. Then he said to the Sultan's Ambassador, of subjects such as these, seventy thousand are thus observant of me.→ Let this be your answer! SIR ISAAC NEWTON said, a little before his death, "I do not know what I may appear to the rest of the world, but to myself I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the sea shore, and diverting myself by now and then finding a smoother pebble, or a prettier shell than ordinary, while the great Ocean of Truth lay all undiscovered before me." If from your Page you take the letter P, Your Page is age, and that won't do for me. A LATE Nobleman, who was very avaricious, was upon the same good terms with his lady, as the elements of water and lightning when "I am of they encounter in the atmosphere. opinion, my lord," said her ladyship, "that you would marry the devil's daughter, after my decease, if her dowry were equal to your expectations." "That is impossible, my lady," replied the Earl," for it is contrary to the laws of England to marry two sisters,” THE keeper of a paltry ale-house, had on his sign, after his name, the letters, M.D.F.R.S. A physician, who was, moreover, a Fellow of the Royal Society, asked him how he presumed to affix these letters to his name." Indeed, Sir," said he, "I have as good a right to them as you have."- "What do you mean, you impudent scoundrel?" replied the Doctor.-"[ mean," returned the other," that I ani DramMajor of the Royal Scots Fusileers.” Mr. HARRIS, patentee of Covent Garden Theatre, having received a very civil message for nothing, Mr. H. observed, upon his perusal, from Lady WALLIS, offering him her Comedy: that her Ladyship knew the exact valur of it. Mr. Rock, the Comedian, formerly of Co vent Garden Theatre, advised one of the sceneshifters, who had met with an accident, to the plan of a subscription. A few days afterwards, he asked for the list of names, which, when he had read over, he returned.—“ Sir," says the poor fellow," wont you give something.' Why, zounds man!" replied Rock, "did'nt I give you the hint ?" 66 DANTE. When at the court of Il Signore ! della Scala, then sovereign of Verona, that prince said to him one day" I wonder Signor Dante, that a man so learned as you are, should be hated by all my court, and this fool," pointing to his favourite buffoon who stood by him, "should be by all beloved.". Dante, highly piqued at this comparison, re-i plied" Your Excellency would wonder less, if you considered that we like those best that most resemble ourselves." THE BENCH.-The etymology of this name, which, in the Phoenician tongue, is a word of great signification, importing, if literally in"The place of sleep;" but in comterpreted, mon acceptation, a seat well bolstered and cushioned for the repose of old gouty limbs. Fortune being indebted to them this part of retaliation, that, as formerly, they have long talked, whilst others slept; so now they may sleep as long, whilst others talk. Gtorro. The children of this famous painter were remarkably ugly. Dante asked him, how it happened that he, who made the chil dren of others so handsome, should have made his own so ugly? Mine," replied the painter, made in the dark" 66 were BOURDALOUE. Le Pere Arrius said-When le Pere Bourdaloue preached at Rouen, the tradesmen forsook their shops, lawyers their clients, physicians their sick; but when I preached the following year, I set all to rights ➡every man minded his own business, Correspondence. To the Editor of the Tickler Magazine. SIK: If you think a series of Essays, Visions, Tales, &c. similar to the following specimens worthy of a place in the original department of your very interesting Miscellany, by signifying the same, you will confer an obligation, Sif, on Your humble Servant, T. G. SOLITARY MOMENTS.-No. 1. Interchange of Sentiment in the Commerce of TO be able to discourse with fluency and By well regulated studies, and virtuous intercourse, the mind is diverted from meditating evil, at the same time that the reason is exerted, the taste corrected, the imagination fertilized, the memory strengthened, and the LORD BYRON. To the Editor of The Tickler Magazine. SIR:-Having observed several extracts from Don Juan, in your monthly publication, which 1 have perused with much pleasure, as well as the just and favorable view that you take of that work, and Byron's other numerous writings, I cannot repress the surprise that I have felt to see that celebrated author so severely criticised as he has been, and still continues to be, in the New Monthly Magazine, both as I am convinced, that if the works of Lord Byron are not quite so moral as could be wished, it does not arise from the want of his possessing the better feelings of our nature, but from the workings of a mind sunk in despondency, by the injuries it has so unmeritedly sustained. I am neither a Deist nor an Infidel, but I would gladly rescue from disgrace the character of a man that has grown so popular by the wonderful genius most eminently conspicuous in every production of his pen. The mind that has lost its greatest support, flies from every thing that is cheering and consolatory; and if it sometimes drags to view scenes that disgust and terrify, they can only be considered as the natural consequences of gloomy ideas arising from blighted prospects, and hopes of happiness that have fled for ever. I have read Don Juan. I do not much admire the subject; taking it as a whole, it is nothing more than the wild effusion of the moment; but there are parts of that poem, that can be placed on a footing with the best selections of our modern writers, and which shine like the unexpected rays of the sun, through a dark cloud. I dwell not upon Byron's domestic troubles, they are of no use here; but shall content myself with mentioning some of the many acts of his humane and generous disposition. While he was resident at Mitylene, he distributed near 500 copies of the Old and New Testament among the poorer inhabitants; raised from distress numerous families, to a state of comparative affluence, and reinstated others in their property, who had been driven from their lands. For the character of such a man, I do not appeal to those who have never trod the path of adversity, but to those who, forced to exile themselves from their country, bereft of friends, and shunned by those they fostered in their youth, give vent to their oppressed feelings, in the gloomy language of despair. Is the sneer of the Infidel in his works? The Corsair, and the Bride of Abydos, for instance, are full of the consciousness of his dependence on a Divine Providence. In such scenes of misery and horror as are but too faithfully described in Don Juan, the best have at times doubted. The soul petrified, shrinks back, and finding no rest for support, is driven to hopeless despondency, and the grave presents itself to view, with all its attendant dreads for eternity. This I believe to be the true state of his present feelings, and as in expressing my opinion of the same, I fear neither censure or the more malignant sting of criticism, I have no hesitation in subscribing my name to this. J. HOWARD, Hyde Park, 4th May, 1820. THE DEVIL AND THE LAWYERS. Mr. EDITOR,-I am a lawyer, and have often been puzzled to discover from whence or what, originated the generally received opinion that there is a certain intimacy always carried on between the inhabitants of Inns of Court, and his Satanic Majesty.-When the various volunteer corps were formed, each was distinguished by some appropriate appellation-the residents in one parish were called the St. James's-of another parish the St. Pancras'-and in various places were raised the Queen's own regiment -the Duke of Cumberland's own regiment, and so on ad infinitum-Shortly after sprang up the "Temple Corps," when the modest title they had assumed, not pleasing the public, they immediately received from them an addition by which they are universally known— viz. "the Devil's own regiment.”—How is all this, Mr. Editor? perhaps I can inform you— read the following anecdote, and "gather and surmise." THE LAWYER'S PATRON. Saint EVONA, a lawyer of Britain, went to Rome, to entreat the Pope to give the lawyers a patron; the Pope replied, that he knew of no saint not disposed of to some other profession. His Holiness proposed, however, to Saint Evona, that he should go round the church of San Giovanni di Laterano blindfold, and after saying a number of Ave Marias, the first Saint he laid hold of should be his patron. This the good old lawyer undertook, and at the end of his Ave Marias, stopped at the altar of Saint Michael, where he laid hold, not of the saint-but unfortunately of the Devil, under the saint's feet, crying out-This is our saint, let him be our patron! Pump Court. INQUISITOR. Elegy. ELEGY On a Pair of Breeches thrown upon a Dunghill by a Miser. HERE rest my breeches, on the lap of earth, By Time destroy'd, by Pride now cast away; Whose waistband never knew the stretch of mirth, Whose lining long ere this had felt decay. Oft has the needle tried its skill in vain, Not half so sweet the amber-scented rose; As ye, my breeches-best of all my clothes! Till Time's unpitying hand (by fate design'd) Thy stiches, strength, and youth, had from thee borne ; So falls the flow'r before the ruthless wind, So from its mate the guiltless turtle's torn. Here while ye lay upon the teeming earth, Altho no shell your funeral pomp displays, Far from your grave shall fly the rebel mirth, And corn digested serve instead of bays! T. BRAND. Hackney Road. Epigrams. THE REBUKE. When first for Mary's hand I pressed, ON A BAD AUTHOR, WHO TURNED BOOKSELLER. Turn'd Bookseller?-twas wisely done, Before I'm sure he ne'er sold one. Epitaphs. ON GENERAL KILDARE. |