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Bishop Atterbury happened to say, upon a ceris in bill in discussion in the House of Lords, that * he had prophesied last winter, this bill would be attempted in the present session, and he was sorry to find that he had proved a true prophet.” Lord Coningsby, who spoke after the bishop, de-ired the house to remark, “that one of the Right Reverends had set himself forth as a prophet; but, for his part, he did not know what prophet to liken him to, unless to that furious prophet, Bataam. who was reproved by his own ass.” The bishop. in reply, exposed this rude attack, concluding thus, “Since the noble lord hath disraw cred in our manners such a similitude, I am weil content to be compared to the prophet Balaum : but, my lords, I am at a loss to make out one other part of the parallel ; I am sure that I have been reproved by nobody but his lordship.”
of them. I could bring many instances, and those very ancient; but, my lords, I shall go no further back than the latter end of Queen Elizabeth’s reign, at which time the Earl of Essex was run down by Sir Walter Raleigh : Lord Bacon ran down Sir Walter Raleigh, and your lordships know what became of Lord Bacon ; the Duke of Buckingham ran down Lord Bacon, and your lordships know what became of the Duke of Buckingham ; Sir Harry Vane ran down the Earl of Strafford, and your lordships know what became of Sir Harry Vane; Chancellor Hyde ran down Sir Harry Vane, and your lordships know what became of the Chancellor ; Sir Thomas Osborne ran down Chancellor Hyde, and what will become of the Earl of Danby, your lordships can best tell ; but let me see the man that dares run down the Earl of Danby, and we shall soon see what will become of him.”
Lord North, once speaking in the house, was suddenly interrupted in the midst of the most inportant part of it, by a dog, who, having taken shelter and concealed himself under the table of the house, made his escape and ran directly across the floor, setting up, at the same time, a violent howl. It occasioned a burst of laughter, and might have disconcerted an ordinary man. Lord North, however, having waited till the roar which it produced had subsided, and preserving all his gravity, addressed the chair, “Sir,” said he to the speaker, “I have been interrupted by a new member, but, as he has concluded his argument, I will now resume mine.”
loRD eldon's FokeNsic eloque NCe.
Horne Tooke was once heard to declare, that, were ne to he tried again, he would plead guilty rather than endure hearing the then solicitor-general’s (since the Lord Chancellor Eldon) long speeches, one of which lasted eleven hours Such an effect had this oratorical prolixity upon the nice cars of the author of the Diversions of Purley.
An abbot rich (whose taste was good
Alike in science and in food)
His bishop had resolv'd to treat ;
The bishop came, the bishop eat;
'Twas silence, 'till their stomachs fail'd :
And now at heretics they rail'd :
What heresy (the prelate said)
ls in that church where priests may wed :
Do not we take the church for Jife 2
But those divorce her for a wife,
Like laymen keep her in their houses,
And own the children of their spouses.
Wile practices ! the abbot cry'd,
For pious use we’re set aside :
Shail we take wives? narriage at best
Is but carnality profest.
Now as the bishop took his glass,
He spy’d our Abbot's buxom lass
Who cross'd the room, he imark'd her c, -
That glow’d with love ; his pulse beat high.
Fye, father, fye, (the prelate crics)
A maid so young for shame, be wise-
These indiscretions lend a handle
To lewd lay tongues, to give us scandal i
For your vows sake, this rule I give to ye.
Let all your inaids be turn'd of fifty.
The priest replied, I have not swerv'."
But your chaste precept well observ'.1 =
That lass full twenty-five bas told
I’ve yet another who's as old i
Into one sum their ages cast;
So both my maid, have fifty past.
The prelate simil’d, but durst not ulater -
For why his lordship did the same.
THE EDINBURGH stEAM-ROAT.
formack to London thou wouldst wish to go, Then, gentle reader, go not in a smack, Breause accommodation's but so-so, And if the winds not fair, she can but tack; And if (as sometimes does) it comes a blow, Long sickness makes thee wish that thou wert back # So, taking all things into view, I deem shy best and wisest plan's to go by steam.
Four guineas and a half the cabin fare;
And when thy parting friends sigh out farewell,
The wish is granted. Seated on thy chair, .
When sounds the breakfast or the dinner bell.
With roasted, boiled, and baked, I know not
Thou could'st fare better, save in a hotel;
But men of moderate incomes it don't suit
To pay maids, waiters, and somewhat to boot.
Her mighty engine-wheels with splash and splutter,
And power of hundred horses, churn the ocean;
('Tis pity that such churning makes no butter,)
On, on, she sweeps with vibratory motion,
Much faster than a pleasure-boat or cutter;
And yet, for all her speed, I have a notion
*he would not walk the waters, in high gales,
o, wesi as vessels fitted with good sails.
Hark to the summons, dinner's on the table !
Hark to the clattering of the knives and forks,
The rising uproar of the ocean Babci ;
The only silent one is he that works,
outting his mouth as quick as he is able ;
While ever and anon, the starting corks,
Fird in your face by furious ginger-beer,
Cause sudden starts of momentary fear !
Ital hapless he, the wight, whose lot is cast,
Brfore a mighty round of corned beef,
II*, luckless wretch, must help himself the last
His time of eating too be very brief,
And half the dishcs from the board be past
Ere general taste yet sated, gives relief;
warned by his fate, choose thou position where
Potatoes only claim thy humble care.
Another scene succeeds: a sudden qualm
Comes o'er each bosom, with the rising squall;
Sea-sickness comes, for which there is no balm,
Not even Balm of Gilead, curing all
Our other ills—alike in storm and calm,
It baffles human aid, and you may call
For aught that medicine has art and part in,
You'll find 'tis all my eye and Betty Martin
Then beauty's head declines; her pensive eye
Looks sadly o'er the dark and heaving billow,
And through her tresses, as the rude wind sigh,
She leans above the wave-like drooping willow,
“And dull were he that heedless pass'd her by,”
Nor handed her a chair, and brought a
'Tis strange, a meal prevented from digesting,
Should make a woman look so interesting.
She seems so helpless, and so innocent,
Still as a lake beneath the summer even;
A bright and beautiful embodyment,
Of calm and peace, and all we dream of heaven;
A sight to shake an anchorite or saint,
'Gainst beauty's smiles successful who has striv'n?
A pretty woman, like a sight of wonder,
Makes men turn up their eyes like ducks in
The bark is at Blackwall, and so adieu !
My song and subject cease together there.
Oh! wonder-working steam, what thou mayst do,
Where is the prophet spirit to declare :
By thee we make broad cloth—hatch chickens too,
We roam the seas—we yet may traverse air
Nay, do not laugh, if I should fondly dream,
We yet may manufacture verse by steam.
the 1Rish FootMAN’s HINT.
An Irish footman having carried a basket of game from his master to a friend, waited a considerable time for the customary fee, but not finding it likely to appear, scratched his head, and said–Sir, if ny master should say, “Paddy, what did the gentleman give you ?” what would your honour have me to tell him *
ÆNEAS AND WILLIAM THE THIRD.
Jacob Tonson, Dryden's bookseller, was a whig. while the poet was a Jacobite. When Dryden had nearly completed his translation of Virgil, it was the bookseller's wish, and several of Dryden's friends, that the book should be dedicated to King William : this, however, the poet strenuously refused. The bookseller, however, who had as much veneration for Willian as Dryden had for James, finding he could not have the dedication he wished, contrived, on retouching the plates, to have MEneas delineated with a hooked nose, that he might resemble his favourite prince. This ingenious device of Tonson’s occasioned the following epigram to be inserted in the next edition of Dryden's Virgil:—
A foolish young fellow boasting in company of his travelling abroad, was asked by one present how he unade his way. “By my wits,” reptied the other. “ Indeed to says he, “then you must have travelled very cheaply.”
ON M R. DAY, WHO RAN Away froxi His LANDLORd.
Here DAY and Night conspir'd a sudden flight,
For DAY, they say, has run away by night.
DAY's past and gone. Why, landlord, where's
Did you not see that DAY was almost spent o
Day pawn'd and sold, and put off what he might,
Tho' it be ne'er so dark, Day will be lis Mr.
You had one DAY a tenant i and would fain -
Your eyes could see that DAY but once again,
No, landlord, no ; now you may truly say,
(And to your cost too) you have lost ibe Dax.
DAY is departed in a mist, I :ear;
For Day is broke, and yet does not appear.
From time to time he promis'd still to pays
You should have rose before the break of Dov.
But if you had, you'd have got nothing by ot,
For DAY was cunning, and broke over-night.
DAv, like a candle, is gone out, but where
None knows, unless to t'other hemisphere.
Then to the tavern let us haste away—
Come, chear up—hang't—’tis but a broken DAY.
And he that trusted DAY for any sum
Will have his money, if that DAY will come.
But how now, landlord what's the matter, pray
What! you can't sleep, you long so much for day,
Have you a mind, sir, to arrest a Dav
THE CHOICE OF A wifi. BY CHEESE.
There lived in York, an age ago,
A man whose name was Pimlico o
He lov'd three sisters passing well.
But which the best he could not tell.
These sisters three, divinely fair,
Shew’d Pimlico their tenderest care:
For each was elegantly bred, -
And all were much inclin'd to wed ;
And all inade Pimlico their choice,
And prais'd him with their sweetest voice,
Young Pim, the gallant and the gay,
Like ass divided 'tween the hay,
At last resolv'd to gain his ease,
And choose his wife by eating cheese.
He wrote his card, he seal’d it up,
And said with them that night he'd sup;
Desir'd that there might only be
Good Cheshire cheese, and but them three;
He was resolv’d to crown his life,
And by that means to fix his wife.
The girls were pleas'd at his conceit:
Each drest herself divinely neat;
With faces full of peace and plenty,
Blooming with roses, under twenty.
For surely Nancy, Betsy, Sally,
Were sweet as lilies of the valley ;
I}ut singly, surely buxom Bet
Was like tiew hay and miguionet;
But each surpass'd a poet's fancy,
For that, of truth, was said of Nancy:
And as for Sal, she was a donna,
As fair as those of old Crotona,
Who to Apelles lent their faces
To make up madam Helen's graces.
To those the gay divided Pin
Came elegantly smart and trim
When ev'ry siniling maiden, certain,
Cut off some cheese to try her fortune.
Nancy at once not fearing-caring,
To shew her saving ate the paring ;
And Bet, to shew her gen’rous mind,
Cut and then threw away the rind ;