exclusive right of climbing steeples, and making summersets, on the tops of all and every of the spires in his Majesty's dominions. When the old man, Thomas Parr, of Shropshire, was introduced to Charles the First, and Henrietta Maria, he presented an address, setting forth his great age, wishing long life to their Majesties, and praying such notice as they in their great goodness should see meet. "And pray old man," said the Queen, "what have you, who have lived very long, done more than other men?" An please your Majesty, replied "I did pethe Shropshire patriarch, nance for a bastard child when I was above an hundred years old." Puns. A certain Lord presiding in one of the Irish Courts, has a knack of naming Horses, and once meeting a Mr. Spear, an optician of Dublin, on a fine Horse, immediately began to admire and praise the animal. Yes, my Lord, replied Mr. Spear, he is a good one, but he's mighty rough; he jolts me a good deal. Why then you should call him Shakespear rejoined his Lordship. AT one of the late Elections for Westminster, it was the fashion for one party to testify their dislike to the other by showering upon them, not the "gentle rain from heaven," but an abundance of saliva. A gentleman who had the luck to be covered with this effusion, observed, that he had missed his road that morning, for intending to go to Covent Garden, he found himself in Spital Fields. EPITAPHS---A gentleman who loved punning, even on such grave subjects, declared, that the only assertion which epitaphs in general could boast as true, where the initial words-" Here lieth." On hearing the Widow MOORE was married. For some she SEEMED to feel a smart, Knock'd at the widow's door; THE SEVEN AGES. "All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players: They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts; His acts being seven ages. First, the infant Mewling and pewking in his nurse's arms; Then, the whining school-boy, with his satchel, And shining morning face, creeping, like snail, Unwillingly to school: and then the lover, Sighing, like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress' eye-brow: then a soldier Full of strange oaths, and bearded like a pard; Jealous in honor; sudden and quick in quarrel, cannon's mouth. Seeking the bubble reputation, ev'n in the Then, the justice, in fair round belly, with good capon lin'd; With eyes severe and full of formal cut; Full of wise saws and modern instances; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon, With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side; His youthful hose well sav'd, a world too wide For his shrunk shank; his big manly voice, Turning again tow'rd childish treble pipes, And whistles in the sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful story, 2 THE SILVERY TEAR. When rapt in blissful contemplation, Is it some painful recollection, By absence render'd more severe ? No! 'tis the calm of sweet reflection That calls adown the SILVERY TEAR. When luckless Lovers pine and languish, Now buyed by hope, now dash'd with fear Soothing each wilder gust of auguish, Balsamic falls the SILVERY TEAR. 'Till the night-planets, fastly fading, While unrestained imagination I love to shed the SILVERY TEAR. Sonnets. FROM THE IRISH LANGUAGE. If we are not much deceived, we think that the following Sonnet will be deemed a great, treat by most of our poetical readers. It is a faithful---indeed, a literal translation from the original Irish, made several years ago, by a gentleman well versed in the ancient language and literature of his country. It appears to us not a little remarkable that a composition of such unrivalled tenderness, simplicity and elegance, one which, to use the words of Milton, breathes---"such divine, enchanting ravishment,"should have been written about the middle of the twelfth century, in a country too, which many are in the habit of considering as wholly enveloped in ignorance and barbarism, even at a much later period. The Author's name, though certainly worthy of a better fate, has not been handed down to our times; but it is known that he lived, about the period already mentioned, in that part of the County of Waterford, in Ireland, which is commonly called Deasy's country. We are not informed whether any other part of his writings has been handed down to posterity. Should any of our poetical readers favour us with a good version of this Sonnet in English rhyme, we shall be happy to give it a place in our Journal. "EVELINA." [As translated from the original Irish.] "It was on the white hawthorn, on the brow of the valley, that I saw the rising of the day first break; the young, the soft, the gay, delightful morning: It kissed the crimson of the rose, mixed with her smiles, and laughed the season on us!— Rise, too, my Evelina! thou soul that informest my heart: more lovely than the morning in her blushes, more modest than the rifled rose when weeping in her dews: pride of the Western shores! "The sky's blue face, when cleared by dancing sun-beams, looks not serener than thy countenance: the richness of the wild honey is on thy lips, and thy breath exhales sweets like the apple bosom. "Black are thy locks, my Evelina, and polished as the raven's smooth pinions. The swan's silvery down is not fairer than thy neck; and the witch of Love heaves all her enchantments from thy bosom! "Rise, my Evelina: The sprightly beam of the Sun descends to kiss thee, without enmity to me; and the heath reserves its blossoms to greet thee with their odours. "For thee, thy timid Lover will gather strawberries on the side of the awfully lofty rock. For thee, too, he will rob the hazel of its auburn pride, the sweetness of whose kernel thou far exceedest. "Let my berries be as red as thy lips; and my nuts ripe, yet milky as the lovebegotten fluid in thy bridal bosom. "Queen of the cheerful smile, shall I not meetthe in thee moss-grown cave, and press to my heart all thy beauties, in the wood of Miscother? "How long wilt thou leave me, Evelina, mournful as the lone son of the rock; telling thy beauties to the passing gale, and pouring out my complaints to the grey stone of the valley? "Ah! dost thou not hear my songs, O virgin; thou who should be the tender daughter of a meek eyed mother? "Whenever thou comest, Evelina. thy approach is like that of Summer to the children of frost; and welcome, with rapture, are thy steps to my view, as the harbingers of light to the eye of darkness! "Then haste back to the fond shed of thy lover. Renew his hopes by thy return, and bring peace to his heart and to his head by thy presence. Without thee, the mid-day splendour is nought but gloom, and even pleasure is tinged with the hue of sorrow:-Without thee, life is as joyless as the tomb, and the gay features and charming countenance of the season are wholly overcast with sadness!" Tales. THE PICTURE. Matches are made for many reasonsFor love, convenience, money, fun, and spite! How many, against common sense are treasons! How few the happy pairs who match aright! In the fair breast of some bewitching dame, How many a youth will strive fond love to waken, And when at length, successful in his aim, Then curse his fate, at matrimony swear, Will fret and fume, and lose full many a But tell me, Muse, what charm it was could tickle The once invincible Sir Peter Pickle? Was it her hump, that had a camel suited? Was it the beauties of her face combin'd No, gentle friends; although such beauties might Have warm'd the bosom of an anchorite, The charm that made our Knight all milk and honey, Was that infallible specific,-money! Peter whom want of brass had made more brazen, In moving terms began his love to blazon; Sigh after sigh, in quick succession rushes, Nor are the labours of his lungs in vain ; Her cheek soon crimsons with consenting blushes, Red as a chimney-pot just after rain! The licence bought, he marries her in haste, Brings home his bride, aud gives his friends a gay day; All his relations, wond'ring at his taste, Vow'd he had better had the Pig-fac'd Lady! pray "Like her, Sir Peter! take it not uncivil, ""Tis like her, and as ugly as the Devil, "With just her squinting leer :-but, d-n it, what "A very handsome Frume it's got! "So richly gilt, and so superbly wrought!" "You're right, (says Peter) 'twas the Frame that caught! "I grant my wife is ugly, squabby, old"But still she pleases, being set in Gold! "Let others for the Picture feel a flame, "I, my good brother, married for the Frame!" JOY. It was a custom with Tranquillus to walk through the village of which he was an inhabitant, every fine evening about an hour before sunset, and converse with cottagers, the doctor, or the 'squire, as they fell in his way. In one of these perambulations, he saw an old man sitting under a shed, and leaning his back against the trunk of an oak, who addressed him with "Good Sir, can you spare a trifle towards relieving the wants of a now very poor man, but who for merly knew affluence." Not only the words, but the manner of their being delivered, bespoke him no common beggar:-" Yes I can," answered Tranquillus, and immediately taking out his purse, presented him with a shilling. The old man raised himself by the help of a stick, to return thanks for Tranquillus's kindness; and as he rose, his flute, by which he gained his subsistence, fell from his side-pocket. Tranquillus, who was the ablest man of the two, picked it up; and, after looking at it, returned it to the old man, telling him that he had one at home which was so very similar to it, that it would be very difficult to tell them apart; at the same time Tranquillus desired the poor stranger to accompany him home and take some refreshment. The old man accepted the favour offered him by Tranquillus, and he followed him at an humble distance to his house. 66 he After an hour had passed, night came on, and Tranquillus, approving of the conversation of his indigent guest, requested him to stay and take a bed. He returned thanks for this obligation, in so pleasing a manner, as to gain still further upon his entertainer. Tranquillus now withdrew, but in a few minutes returned again, bringing with him his flute, and comparng it with that belonging to the old man, they corresponded so very exactly, that Tranquillus observed, supposed them to have been made by the same hand."--"That's impossible," replied the traveller, "he who made this made but one more, and that cannot be it which you now shew me." Here he sighed, as if extreme sorrow had taken captive every fine feeling!---Tranquillus considered this as somewhat extraordinary, and desired a second sight of the instrument; the old man immediately put it into his hand: Tranquillus then took it into the adjoining room, examined it again with his own, was satisfied, and returned it. The business of the flute, and the old man's sighs, had so far interested Tranquillus in the concerns of the venerable stranger, that as soon as supper was over, he requested to know whether or not he had travelled? And being answered in the affirmative, further asked, What remarks he had made on the world? In fine, to tell his story, or such parts of it as he thouget proper. "My story, good sir, "said Contristor, " is a tale that will in no wise prepossess you in my favour; it is a tale that is in discredit with myself; but if you will promise to let me depart as soon as you have heard it, I will communicate it to you.'t" You shall depart to-morrow, if you please," said Tranquillus, "although I must now say, that from your present manner, your story, be it chequered as it may, cannot hurt you in my opinion." Contristor bowed respectfully, and thus began:-- "I was the eldest son of the two brothers by full fifteen years, and my father dying just as I had attained my 21st year, left me rather more than half his property, and also the guardianship of his younger son. Ambition, pride, and villany were my masters, and hurrid me into measures, for which, Heaven knows, I have been many years a repentant. I planned a scheme for depriving my brother of the property bequeathed to him, and which, as his guardian, I very easily effected; which was to take him out of the kingdom, and bring him up a peasant. I therefore embarked with him, on board a vessel bound for Amsterdam, and having arrived there, travelled across Gǝrmany, into Bohemia, where, for a small sum of money, I deposited him with a day-labourer, left him without a tear, returned to England, and exulted in my baseness. "For the space of five years I indulged myself in luxury, profligacy, and dissipation; but my fortune diminishing very fast, sober reflection at times forced herself upon my thoughts,notwithstanding every opposition on my part. At length the time arrived, when poverty, with all her thousand stings attacked me.--Reflection now became my constant companion; and in one of those moments when I was wholly her's, I determined on seeking my injured brother; and having equipped myself in an humble, but suitable garb, went to the wharf from whence I had before sailed, and bargained for a passage in the steerage of the very vessel that had before conveyed myself and the unhappy child to Amsterdam. "To enable myself to do this, I had put away every thing valuable, save that Alute which fell from my pocket when going to thank you for your bounty; with that flute and two guineas, having arrived in Holland, I took my way towards Bohemia. Travelling on foot in Germany is very tedious, and it was six weeks before I reached the place where I had left my brother. It was night when I got into the hamlet, and the peasant's cottage being close shut, I would not attempt to disturb him :---I put my ear to a crevice in the door, and fancied I heard my brother's voice; this seemed to afford me new life; my cares were all forgotten, and I laid myself to rest under a rick of hay, and enjoyed a sleep better than any I had experienced since the hour that my father died. "The morning was ushered in by thunder, and I did not reach the cottage until I was overtaken by a heavy shower; the door stood open; I looked in---Gods! what a disappointment when I asked an old woman who was spinning, whether the labourer whom I named was at home? She answered, "He left the place five years ago, and took with him his little boy."--Sense was still !---but on its return, I found myself in the midst of a crowd of people who had been exerting themselves for my recovery. "I afterwards learned that the peasant had gone for Ulm, in Westphalia; thither I bent my course, levying contributions by the means of my flute, on the boors, who would dance in the most uncouth manner to its notes; by this means I reached the desired place, but found not my lost peace. "I now proceeded to Hamburgh, and was taken on board a ship bound for London, on condition of doing what work I was capable of on board, and also to amuse the captain and passengers with my music. Thus situated, I once more arrived in London. "That spot of glory, and that world of woe," to me, once the seat of pleasure, but now of grief; where having passed over many years in menial occupations, and deserved obscurity, without being able to lay by one shilling; and finding my natural strength exhausting, I set out to travel Britain over;---the manner of conducting myself was to gain whatever I could from the poorer order of people, by my skill in music, and from the more elevated, by properly addressing them." Here Tranquillus interrupted him by asking, "If he had given up all research after his brother?" "Long since (replied the old man), and there is nothing I could possibly discover him by, but a mark upon his right arm." "And what mark is that?" (cried Tranquillus hastily)" It is a mulberry" answered the old man; C |