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DR. Cheyne's ANSWER.
rotten potatoes and stioking eggs. The oldnobleman My system, Doctor, 's all my own,
was indeed very complaisant, and made me acceps
of his own bed. I cannot say that the dormitory No teacher I pretend;
was the best in the world ; for there was nothing My blunders hurt myself alone,
but an old box to sit upon in the room, and there But yours your dearest friend,
were neither sheets nor curtains to the bed. Lady Were you to milk and straw confin'd, Betty was kind enough to apologize for the apariThrice bappy might you be;
ment, assuring me, many persons of great degnaty Perhaps you might regain your mind, had frequently slept in it; and that though the And from your wit get free.
blonkcts luked sne block, it was not quite four years I can't your kind prescription try,
sin they bad been washed by the counless her But heariily forgive !
mother, aod Lady Matilda Carolina Amelia 'Tis natural you should bid me die,
Eleonora Sophia, one of her younger sisters. See
then wished me a good night, and said, the rise That you yourself may live.
count, her brother, would take particular care to SCOTCH NOBILITY.
grease my boots." Quin being asked if he had ever been in Scot.
ANACREONTIC. Jand, and how he liked the people, replied : If Ah! wherefore did I daring gaze you mean the lower order of them, I shall be at a Upon the radiance of thy charms loss to answer you; for I had no farther acquaint And, vent'ring nearer to thy rays, ance with them than by the smell. As for the no How dar'd I clasp thee in my arms bility they are numerous; and, for the most part,
That kiss will give my beart a pain, proud and beggarly. I remember, when I
Which thy sweet pity will deplore. crossed from the north of Ireland icto their coun.
Then, Cynthia, take the kiss again, try, I came to a little wretched village, consisting
Or let me take ten thousand more. of a dozen huts, in the style of the Hottentots; the priucipal of which was an inn, and kept by QUEEN ELIZABETH AND THE BEGGAR. an earl. I was mounted on a shrivelled quad As Queen Elizabeth was riding on-borseback, ruped, for there was no certainty of calling it she was met by a beggar, who asked alms of her horse, inare, or gelding; much like a North Wales The Queen remarking to her chamber lain, ebar goat, but larger, and without boros. The whole the man followed her winerever she went, quoted village was up in an instant to salute me; sup- this line out of Ovid: posing, from ihe elegance of my appearance, that
Pauper ubique jacet. I must be some person of a large fortune and great family. The earl ran, and took hold of my Which may be thus translated : stirrup while I dismounted; then turning to his “ In any place, in any bed, eldest son, who stood by us without breeches,
The poor man rests his weary bead » said, my lord, do you take the gentleman's borse on which the pauper icstantly repliet, to the stable, add desire your sister, Lady Betly, to draw him a pint of two-penny; for I suppose
In thalamis Regina tuis, hac nocle jacerea so great a mon will ha' the best liquor in the whol Si foret hoc verum, Pauper ubique jacet. hous.”_" I was obliged," continued Quin, to "Ah, beauteous Queen, if that were true, stay here a whole night, and to make a supper of This very night I'd rest with you."
HELL AND PURGATORY.
There'd been, she swore, some devil or witch in,
To rob and plunder all the kitchen, A Venetian nobleman was one day rallied by One night she to her chamber crept, a priest, upon his refusing to give something to the Where for a moment she'd not slept, church, which the priest demanded for the deliver- Curse on the author of these wrongs, ance of him from purgatory; when the priest | In her own bed she found the tongs ! making him, if he knew what an innumerable num- Hang Thomas for an idle joker! ber of devils there were to take him? he answer. And there, good lack! she found the poker ed, “ Yes, he knew how many devils there were in With sall-box, pepper-box, and kettle, all,"_" Indeed, how many ;” says the priest, his And all the culinary metal. curiosity being raised by the novelty of the an. Be warnd, ye fair, by Susan's crosses, *wer. “ Why, ten millioos, five bundred and Keep chaste, and guard yourselves from losses, cieven thousand, six hundred and seventy-five For if young girls delight in kissing, devis and a half," says the noblemao. “A No wonder that the poker's missing. half :” says the priest, pray what kind of a Gevil is ihat?"_“Yourself," says the noble
THE LESS OF TWO EVILS: 70, " for you are balf a devil already, and The doctrine of purgatory was once disputed will be a whole one when you come there ; for between the Bishop of Waterford and Father you are for deluding all you deal with, and bring O'Leary; it is not likely the former was convinc* soul and body into your hands, that you may ed by the arguments of the latter, who, however, be paid for lelling us go again."
closed it very neatly by telling the bishop
“ Your lordship may go farther, and fare worse.' Where's the POKER
HOW TO SAVE ONE THOUSAND POUNDS. The poker lost, poor Susan storm'
It was observed that a certain covetous rich And all the rites of rage perform’d,
man never invited any one to dine with bim, As scolding, crying, swearing, sweating,
“ I'll lay a wager," said a wag, “ I get an inviAbasing, fidgetting, and fretting;
tation from him." The wager being accepted, he Nothing but villany and lbieving !
went the next day to the rich man's house, about od heavens! what a world we live in !
the time that he was known to sit down to dinner, "I don't fiud it in the morning,
and told the servant that he must speak with his ! 11 surely give my master warning.
master immediately; for that he could save him a Hled better far shut up his doors,
thousand pouods. Sir," said the servant to his Tran keep such good-for-nothing w -S, master, “here's a man in a great hurry to speak l of wheresoe'er their trade they drive,
with you, who says he can save you a thousand We virtaous bodies cannot thrive."
pounds." Out comes the master, “ What's that Well may poor Suzan grunt and groan,
you say, sir? That you can save me a thousand Visfortunes never come alone,
pounds ?”—“Yes, sir, I can ; but I see you are Dal tread each other's heels in throngs,
I'll go and dine myself, and call Par the next day she lost tbe longs;
again.”—" Oh, pray, sir, come in, and take a Ine sall-box, cullender, and grate
dinner with me."-"Sir, I shall be troublesome." son shar'd the same untimely face.
“ Not at all.” The invitation was accepted ; ha saia sbe vails and wages spent
and, dinner being over, and the family retired Osrew ones-for the new ones went.
“ Well, sir, said the man of the house, pow to our
business, Pray, sir, let me know how I am to world of the English language : and while I am save this thousand pounds."-"Why, sir," said coining into port, with a fair wind on a fine subthe other, “ I hear you have a daughier to dispose shiny day, my Lord Chesterfield sends out two of in marriage."-" I have."'-" And that you little cock-boats to tow me in. I am very sensrintend to portion her with ten thousand pounds!" ble of the favour, Mr. Moore, and should be sorry "I do so."--" Why then, sir, let me have her, to say an ill-natured thing of that ooblemao: bai and I'll take her with nine thousand."
I cannot belp thinking be is a lord among wit,
and a wit among lords. WRITTEN ON THE DOOR OF A CERTAIN House.
LETTER FROM AN IRISH GENTLEWOMAN TO Gold rules wirbin, and reigns without these doors,
HER SON IN LONDON, Makes men take places, and poor maids turn w-s. Her blooming virtue's sold, his trust's betray'd, My dear child, Debauch'd the member falls, alike the maid! I thought it my duty incumbint opon me, to lit Each pleads excuse, tho' profit each does move- you know that your only living sister, Casey His is the sov'reign's service, her's is love. Mac-Frame, has been violently ill of a fit of sick. The world sees through the sham in which both ness, and is dead ; therefore we have small or se join,
hopes of her gitting bitter. Your dear modther He votes for interest, as she yields for coin, constantly prayed for a long and speedy recovery, PATRONAGE.
I am sorry to acquaint you, that your godfaiber.
Patrick O'Conner, is also dead. His dith was or The late Earl of Chesterfield was universally casioned by ateing rid-hirrings stuffed wid para esteemed the Mæcenas of the age in which he lived. tes, or parates stuffed wid rid hirrings, I doo'l Dr. Johnson addressed the plan of his dictionary know which ; and not withstanding the surgeoo of the English language to him on that account; attended him for three weeks, he died suddenly and his lordship endeavoured to be grateful by re- for want of hilp on the day of his dith, which wa commending that valuable work in two essays, Sunday night last. The great bulk of his otala which, among others, be published in a paper in- comes to an only dead child in the family. tituled the World, conducted by Mr, Moore and I have made a prisent of your sister's diamoadhis literary friends. Some time after, however, ring to Mr. O'Hara, the great small-beer brewer. the doctor took great offence at being refused ad- for three guineas ; and I have taken the grej mittance to Lord Chesterfield, which happened corner house that is burnt down, on a repairias by a mistake of the porter; and just before the lase. work was finished, on Mr. Moore's expressing his I have sint you a Dublin Canary-bird, wbir ! surprise that Dr. Johnson did not intend to de. have carefully put up in a ral-trap, with spre dicate the book to bis lordship, the lexicographer food in a souff-box, which will come free of 31 declared he was under no obligation to any great charges, only paying the captain for the passage. man whatever, and therefore should not make him Pray sind me the news of the prosadeings of the his patron,
" Pardon me, sir," said Moore, House of Commons pixt week; for we bear (or, you are certainly obliged to his lordship for the have given us leave to import all our parates two elegant papers he has written in favour of England, which is great news indeed, your performance." - -“ You quite mistake the Writo immediately, and don't stay for the pot. thing," returned Johnson, "I confess no obliga- Dirict for me nixt door to the Bible and Moon tion. I feel my own dignity, sir; I have made a in Copper Alley, Dublin, for there I am dov Commodore Anson's voyage round the whole but I shall remove to-morrow into my new boca
a Oxford first he made his way, gilded coach and liv'ries gay; bucks and beaux his taste admire, equipage and rich attire ; nothing was so much adored fine silver-hilted sword; smast, and short, 'twas vastly neat, sight was deem'd a perfect treat; Banter begg'd to have a look, when the sword in hand he took, ore, by Jove, it was an odd thing, I took'd just like a tailor's bodkin. a shred was gall'd at his expression, ing they knew his mean profession; ing his sword he sneak'd away, drove for Glo'ster the same day,
There soon he found new cause of grief For (dining on some fine roast beef) They asked him which he did prefer, Soine cabbage or some cucumber.
What was design’d a complient, He thought severe reflection meant : His stomach turn'd, he could not eat, So made an ungenteel retreat; Next day left Glo'ster in great wrath, And bade his coachman drive to Bath, There he suspected fresh abuse, Because the dinner was roast goose ; And that he might no more be jeer'd, For Exeter directly steer'd.
There with the beaux, he drank about,
The name of remnant gall'd him so, He then resolv'd for York to go ; There fill’d his bumper to the top, And always fairly drank it up ; “Well done,” said Jack, a buck of York, “You go through stitch, sir, with your work.”
The name of stitch was such reproach, He rang the bell, and call'd the coach; But e'er he went, enquiry made By what means they found out his trade.
You put the cap on, and it fits, Replied one of the Yorkshire wits; Our words, in common acceptation, Could not find out your occupation ; ‘Twas you yourself gave us the clue, To find out both your trade and you ;
Proud coxcombs and fantastic beaux,
cHARACTER of A MiGHTY GooD KIND of A M.A.N.
The good qualities of such a man (if he has any) are of the negative kind. He does very little harm, but you never find him do any good. He is careful to have all the externals of sense and virtue, but you never perceive his heart concerned in any word, thought, or action. To him every body is his dear friend, with which he always begins all his letters, and ends them with “Your ever sincere and affectionate friend.” He is usually seen with persons older than himself, but always richer. He is not prominent in his conversation, but merely puts in his “Yes, sir,” and “No, sir,” to every thing said by the elevated or overbearing ; which confirms him in their opinion as “a very sensible and discerning person,” as well as a “mighty good kind of a man.”—He is so familiarized to assent to every thing advanced, that I have known him approve opposite sentiments in the course of five minutes : The weather is a leading topic with “a mighty good kind of a man,” and you may make him agree in one breath, that it is hot and cold, frost and thaw, and that the wind blows from every point of the compass 1. He is so civil and wellbred, as to keep you in the rain, rather than ascend a carriage before you; and the dinner would grow cold in your attempt to move him from the lower end of the table. Not a glass approaches his lips unless he has disturbed half the company to drink their health. He never omits his glass with the mistress of the house, nor forgets to notice little master and miss, which with mainma always makes him “a mighty good kind of a man,” and also assures her, that he would make a very good husband. No man is ever half so happy, or so general, in his friendships--every one he names
is a friend of his, and all his friends are “might: good kind of men.” He pulls off his hat to every third person he meets, though he knows or even the name of one in twenty — A young mborn with this demonstrated propensity of “mor. ty goodness,” has every chance of advancis his fortune. Thus, if in orders, he will coutri. to pick up a tolerable living, or become tutor a dunce of quality. If “a mighty good kind & man” is a counsellor, he will draw from the atta nies a large supply of chamber cases and spect. pleadings, or bills and answers, he being great qualified for a dray-horse of the law. If he is a mitted into the college as M. D. he will have even chance to be at the top of the profession, as whole success of the faculty depends upon old men, or fanciful young ones, hypochondriac as and ricketty children; to the generosity of these nothing so much recommends a physician, his being “a mighty good kind of a man.” 1. past dispute that a good man, and a man of sea should possess in soune degree the outline dese: ed; yet, if he possesses no more, he will be at 1. but a vapid and valueless character. Many perficial observers are deceived by French ps it has the glitter of a diamond, but the want hardness discovers the counterfeit, nond poin' out to be of no intrinsic value ! If the head heart are to be omitted in the character, you , as well seek for female beauty without a no. an eye, as expect a valuable man without on standing or sensibility. , But besides this, it e happens that those “ mighty good kind of are wolves in sheep's clothing, and that the o sible cunning of their outward deportment A. culated to entrap the unwary, and to prone, nister designs.