ON THOMAS WEEKES. Under this stone lies THOMAS WEEKES! Heerrs, who years, months, days, here seeks; Have not weeks days?---No, Sir, be not offended,

When WEEKES came here his days were ended.

MAN AND WIFE.

Underneath this turf doth lie,
Back to back, my Wife and I:
Generous Stranger, spare the tear,
For, could she speak, I cannot hear;
Happier far than when in life,
Free from noise, and free from strife;
When the last trump, the air shall fill,
If she gets up, I'll e'en lie still.

THE Jews inscribed Epitaphs on the Monuments of the dead. The Athenians put only the name of the dead, with the epithet good', or 'hero'; and a word expressive of the wishes of the defunct. The Lacedæmonians allowed epithets to none but those who had died in battle. The Romans inscribed their epitaphs to the Manes, diis Manibus. The epitaphs of the present day are commonly fulsome, and hence the origin of the French epitaph menteur comme un epitaphi: he lies like an epitaph.

The following Epitaph is the simple chronicle of an extraordinary man, and as well told, perhaps, as any of the lofty and pompous inscriptions in the Abbey of Westminster.

Beneath this stone, in sound repose,
Lies William Rich, of Lydeard close,
Eight wives he had, yet none survive,
And likewise children, eight times five;
Of great grand-children, five times four
Rich born, rich bred, but fate adverse
His wealth and fortune did reverse,

He lived and died immensely poor,
July the tenth, aged ninety-four.

EPITAPH IN STOKE CHURCH YARD. "An Undertaker, nam'd John Fry,

Lies here who lost his breath, Endeav'ring, but in vain, to fly That Overtaker-Death!

Fragments.

FRAGMENT OF A POEM, Suggested by hearing the Bells chime, after the Proclamation of George the Fourth.

STRANGE Contrast! 'twas but yesterday we heard

The knell of death from that old steeple tower,

shrink,

Oh! many hearts there are, will shrink like mine,

From the loud music of those merry bells.

How doth the tone and temper of our souls
Give tone to all external circumstance!
I listened late to that deep-sounding knell,
With feelings all attain'd to solemn thought,
Solemn, not painful thought-it told, indeed
The heavy tidings of a good King's death;
But it spoke also of a Saint's release
From mortal thraldom-it proclaimed aloud
The vanity of all created things;
The nothingness of earthly power and
But then methought, I heard a voice that
pomp-

cried,

"The Kingdoms of the earth shall pass away,
With all their glory, but the Lord of Hosts,
Hath for the righteous, thrones and crowns
And Kingdoms subject to no chance or
prepared,
change."

Thus heard I in the spirit, and my soul,
A few brief moments on the wings of faith
Soared up, beyond the dense, gross atmos-
phere

Of dull mortality, and I beheld
Heavens opened, and a gratulating host
Of Angels hailing their new visitant
With harpings of celestial harmony,
And smiles ineffable of joy and love.
But foremost of that blessed choir, stooped
down

A form of light, whose heavenly lineaments
(Irradiate now with immortality)
Were those of England's darling, and she

held

However transient-nearer glimpse thereof,
Howe'er imperfect-but it calms and cheers,
And purifies the heart-and leaves within,
An emanation of that perfect peace;
Their blissful portion who inhabit there.

In such a mood of high abstraction, late
I listened to the iron tongue, that told
Death's recent victory-and the solemn sound
Conveyed no dark dejection to my soul-
But now, the music of those merry bells
Jars all its feelings, and my heart recoils
With painful sadness from that joyous peal.

Gleanings.

BELLS.-Bells were a great object of the superstition of our ancestors, that each of them had its peculiar name and virtues ; and many of them retained great affection for the churches to which they belonged, and where they were consecrated. One of them, having been removed from its original and favourite situation, used frequently in the night to take a trip to its old place of residence, unless it were exercised by the keeper in the evening, and secured with a chain or rope. We are told it was an Irish bell. The virtues of a bell are thus enumerated,

Funera Plango,

Men's deaths I tell
By doleful knell.

Fulgura frango,
Fulmina
Lightning and thunder
I break asunder.

Sabbata pango,
On sabbath, all
To church I call.
Excito lentos,

The sleepy head
I raise from bed.

Dissipo ventos,

The winds so fierce
I doe disperse.

Paco cruentos,
Men's cruel rage

I doe asswage.

"Topographical remarks in Hampsh. by the Rev. R. Warner," Vol. 2 p. 162.

IN February, 1528, the Londoners were amused by a battle between a Dutch and a French vessel, fought close to London bridge, to which the former had actually pursued the latter, Walsingham, lieu

RECOLLECTIONS OF FELICIE. WHEN in better times the Duchess of Orleans dwelt in the Palais Royal, she numbered amongst other friends, who visited her daily, a certain Monsieur D'Etreban, a man, such as are often to be met with in great houses, who come and go, seat themselves at table, or remain away, arrange parties, assist at the gaming table, who have attained a right by habit to pass judgement on every thing, and to whose face the master and mistress of the house are so accustomed, that they may easily miss it; namely, the countenance; for about the rest they trouble themselves but little. Mons. D'Etreban belonged, as we have said, to this species. He was a long, haggard, swarthy man of fifty, who always, wore, according to the custom of that time, a very snug frizzled and white powdered peruke. He was called Le Pere, notwithstanding he was an old batchelor, and had neither wife nor children. One day he planted himself, immediately after dinner, before the chimney, and fell fast asleep. As long as the company remained, it was not observed, for he had not entered into the conversation and only sat there to wait for the hour of the opera, which he never neglected. But as now almost the whole company had taken their leave, and only the Lady of B*** remained with the Duchess, they observed the sleeper, and broke out into a loud laughter at his comical situation,

B

He did not awaken, and it was immediately determined to play him a trick. A little head-dress of the newest fashion was put on him, a papilion, that is, a butterfly's wings of wire covered with gauze, an artificial rose was stuck on one side, to give the thing a coquetish look, and all this was lightly and cautiously made fast to his wig. He was then very softly painted, and half a dozen beauty spots stuck on his face, at that time called assassins. Whilst thus the business of his toilette was performed, the good father snored away. When this levity was perfected, orders were given to the servants in the anti-chamber, that they should neither laugh, nor express the least sign of astonishment, when M. D'Etreban should pass through. After these preparations, he was hastily awakened." "Make haste !" was now said to him, "the opera is already began; rouze yourself, it is time for you to go." He hurried away, and slipped nimbly through the corridore. His box was in the first circle, in the very middle of the theatre, and completely exposed to the sight of the public. As he entered he did not fail, according to his usual custom, to bend himself over the front of his box, to see if the house was full. At the sight of this strange figure, loud bursts of laughter arose. Le Pere, to discover the cause of the same, stretched still wider out, with more than half his body. peals of laughter redoubled; there was a general clapping of hands, and the noise and uproar became so violent, that the singers on the stage were obliged to stop. "What is the matter? what is the matter?" he kept bawling, till at last Mademoiselle Fil, a singer, came into his box, and with a roguish curtsey, held a looking-glass before his face.

The

A HINT TO SONNETTEERS. Once on a summer's night, two cats, Spite of the morn, stood caterwauling; Near on a garret, broiling sprats,

A Poet heard their hideous squalling. Zounds! quoth the hungry, angry bard, What! though your feet loves pains and labours;

Yet I must think it very hard,

You publish them to all your neighbours.

Lo! suddenly her eyes were caught

By two thick volumes of his own, Of am'rous sonnets, and all fraught With many a heavy sigh and groan.

Nay, quoth the Bard, whilst thus I scrawl,
And give my sorrows to the Press,
What do I then but caterwaul,

And loudly publish my distress?
Thus self conviction struck him dumb,
And fill'd his heart with sore amazement,
So with a finger and a thumb,
He quietly drew back the casement.

A PETER PINDARIC.

A printer's devil in a country town-
His name? why whether he had one at all,
I think it almost needless to set down-
But say, 'twas Peter Bull, or Sammy
Hawl-

No matter which

Had got the itch; (Forgive me ladies for so foul a name) A very merry, scratching, gay disease, Giving the fingers plenty of good game, But which had the misfortune not to please Our printer's devil,

(Although such maladies as it
For diabolical claws would seem most fit)
Chiefly because the lasses look'd uncivil,
And turning up their noses, seem'd to say,
Sir, keep away,

We do not like the instrument you play,
It may be very airy, and all that,

But pray excuse us, for we do not yearn
The Scottish fiddle gamut, Sir-that's flat.
From your fair hands to learn
Annoy'd at this, he went to Doctor Slop,
And from that learned apothecary's shop,
He got a salve composed of things expedient

All titillation to drive clean away: What was the recipe I cannot say, But brimstone was, I'm sure, a prime íngre

dient.

Being rubbed up, right skilfully, no doubt, He paid his twopence, and walked out Into the street,

Where he an old acquaintance chanc'dto meet.
Pho! pho! exclaim'd his friend you smell
Just as if newly 'scap'd from hell:

Why,said the anointedmanwith knowingphiz,
What's this, what's this?
What is there strange in this affair, I pray?
You knowmytrade, and inthename ofthunder,
Where is the wonder,

That I,a devil,should smell of brimstone? eh!

THE COUNTRY SCHOOLMASTER. A Country Schoolmaster, hight Jonas Bell, Once undertook of little souls,

To furnish up their jobbernowles; In other words, he taught them how to spell, And well adapted to the task was Bell, Whose iron visage measured half an ell; With huge proboscis and eyebrows of soot, Arm'd at the jowl just like a hoar,

And when he gave an angry roar, The little school boys stood, like fishes,mute. Poor Jonas, tho' a patient man, as Job, (Yet still like Job, was sometimes heard to growl)

Was by a scholar's adamantine mob, Beyond all patience, gravelled to the soul: I question whether Jonas in the fish, Did ever diet on a better dish. Twas thus, a lady who supported Bell, Came, unexpectedly, to hear them spell: The pupil fix'd on by the Pedagogue, Was eke, a little round fac'd ruddy dog,

Who thus his letters on the table laidMILK, and paus'd-well, Sir, what's that? I cannot tell ;- -the boy all trembling said. 'Not tell' you little blind and stupid brat? Not tell?" roard'd Jonas in a violent rage, And quick prepar'd an angry war to wage, Tell me this instant, or I'll flea thy hide-; Come Sir?

Dost thou this birchen weapon see?-
What puts thy Mother in her tea?
With lifted eyes, the ragged rogue replied
RUM, SIR!

G. G.

How to spell S double E. With bushy bob and snuff begrimed nose, Rusty black coat, and pen behind his ear, TERENCE MALONE in majesty arose,

The birchin object of respect and fear! His cheeks were pimpled and his eyes inclin'd, With all their strength, and soul, and mind, To join their brains somewhere about The tip of Terry's snubby snout;

In short by all the girls 'twas more than hinted,

That Mister Terence squinted

"Come here,Tom Fogarty, you little brat-So you've been playing in the ditches, And tore your dawney-taste of breeches! I hope you have your lesson pat! S double E-what spells S double E? Dont be star-gazing so-mind what I sayS double E, you little stupid foolUpon my conscience, you disgrace my school! S double E, you ass!-What do I do When I raise up my eyes and look at you?You'll say it now, or else the devil's in't. "Why, Sir, you squint."

CANNIBALISM. --- Mr. Leigh, a Missionary recently returned to England, relates the following story of Cannibalism, which occurred during his residence of six weeks at New Zealand:---" One day while Mr. Leigh was walking on the beach conversing with a native Chief, his attention was arrested by a great number of people on a neighbouring hill. He inquired the cause of such a concourse, and being told they were roasting a lad, and had assembled to eat him, he immediately proceeded to the place, in order to ascertain the truth of the appalling relation. Being arrived at the village where the people were collected, he asked to see the boy. The natives appeared much agitated at his presence, and particularly at his request, as if conscious of their guilt; and it was only after a very earnest solicitation, that they directed him towards a large fire at some distance, where they said he would find him. As he was going to this place, he passed by the bloody spot on which the head of this unhappy victim had been cut off; and on approaching the fire, he was not a little startled at the sudden appearance of a savage-looking man, of gigantic stature, entirely naked, and armed with an axe. Mr. Leigh, though somewhat intimidated, manifested no symptoms of fear, but boldly demanded to see the lad. The cook, for such was the occupation of the terrific monster, then held him by the feet. He appeared to be about fourteen years of age, and was about half roasted. Mr. Leigh returned to the village, where he found several hundreds of the natives, seated in a circle, with a quantity of coomery, a sort of sweet potatoe, before them, and waiting for the roasted body of the youth. In this company were shewn to him the parents of the child, expecting to share in the horrid feast. After reasoning with

them for about half an hour on the inhumanity and wickedness of their conduct, he prevailed on them to give up the boy to be interred, and thus prevented them from consummating the most cruel, unnatural, and diabolical act of which human nature is capable."

A late eminent physician used to say that he had never drank the health of a friend since he had taken out his diploma, but always used the words " my service to you."

A Gentleman who proclaimed his intention of not illuminating upon the late occasion, gave as his reason that he could more readily obtain credit from his glazier, than pay ready money for his candles.

Another Gentleman having heard a person say he would not light, observed, "In that case your fortune may be like her Majesty's.' "How so?" "A Bill of Panes may be brought against you."

Curious Notices.---In the street Transnonain, at Paris, is the following notice: "D. Professor of Decla

mation and House Painter, teaches tragedy, and white washes cielings."

At the breaking up of a tavern dinnerparty, two of the company fell down stairs, the one tumbling to the first landing place, the other rolling to the bottom. It was observed that the first seemed dead drunk.---" Yes," said a wag, "but he's not so far gone as the gentle

man below."

readily did. After getting all the information he wanted, he knowingly shrugged up his shoulders, thanked him for his politeness, and drily observed, "When I have some change I'll call and take it."

A Facetious Thief.- A few weeks ago, a respectable inhabitant of Birmingham, having gone to church with his whole family, leaving his house locked up, found on his return, that it had been opened in his absence, and robbed of plate, cash, &c. to a considerable amount; and he also found written by the thief in large chalk letters, upon one of his dining tables, this laconic admonition---“ Watch as well as pray!"

A very curious volume might be compiled from the addresses which have been presented to our different Monarchs, and the answers they have given to their subjects. That from Coventry to Queen Elizabeth is well known, and is a model of simplicity and elegance :

We men of Coventry,
Are very glad to see
Your gracious Majesty,

Good Lord! how fair you be!

The Queen's answer is in the spirit, and cannot be objected to upon any ground except that the thoughts are borrowed:

My gracious Majesty,
Is very glad to see

You men of Coventry

Good Lord! what fools ye be.

To the British Solomon, who succeeded her, an address was presented from habitants of which seem even then to have the antient town of Shrewsbury, the inbeen fraught with the true spirit of eastern sublimity, for they wish his Majesty may reign as long as the sun, moon, and stars endure. The King sagaciously remarked, that if their wishes should be accomplished, his son must reign by candle light. On the same wise monarch's going to Salisbury, one of the active burgesses of the day climbed up on the outside of the spire of the cathedral, where having fixed the British flag, he made three summersets in honour of his Majesty, descended by the same mode he had got up, and wrote an address congratulatory, stating his valorous atchievements, and entreating a reward. The King thanked him for the honour, and offered to grant him a patent by which he and his heirs male, being Protestants, should have the