N.B. Fine roast pork, that would tempt a Jew, every day at one o'clock.

IN LAMBETH CHURCH-YARD,

· On William Wilson, a troublesome Failor. Here lies the body of W. W.

THE CAMBRIDGE scholar,

In the days that are past, on the banks of a stream,
Whose waters but softly were flowing,

be found covered with legs of mutton, shouldering [mourning, or those that have business on both each other, with some bones to be picked at sides of the street, as he does not wish to have any second-hand very cheap. He also intends to esta-meandering of that kind in his house. Those that blish a cut-finger club for the use of shoe-blacks, wish to eat against time, to pay one shilling a Dewsmen, nightmen, &c. and one of the rules of head, provided they don't bolt, and in that case this club will be, that if any one should happen eighteen-pence. A bill of fare, as long as a by choice or chance to swallow another fellow's Welsh pedigree, will be written out every day, finger, or the joint of a finger, he is to pay one-with a clean table-cloth once a quarter, for the penny. Those that intend to stow in three din- use of those that like to dine genteely, with every ners at once, are to pay by the pound, twelve genteel accommodation; but no tripe at night, pound to the dozen, butter weight. And whereas and heels in the morning. The young Newlands there are some pale thin-looking fellows, with will be always welcome. crane-necks, that would demolish a shoulder of mutton at one sitting, they are to pay according to the damages they have committed; and as the Irish are very fond of working at the wet-dock, he has laid in a large quantity of small-beer, of so fine a quality that it will wrestle even with some of your porter, though it should get into a passion, Who never more will trouble you, trouble you. and foam as much as it pleases; but his dear countrymen must know, that he will not keep a floating account with any one of them, nor take a duplicate in pay for any one of them, even though it should be backed by his honour. As to Scotchmen, who wish to cheat their guts, and to amuse their teeth, he has prepared for them that dish so well known north of the Tweed, namely, a haggis, with black-pudding as tough as Indian-rubber; and, as an empty sack can't stand, be is resolved that the substantial only shall appear on his tables. None of your French slops, with a little piece of beef, and an ocean of soup, like a small island in a lake; no syrup of cinders, no jelly of pipe stopples, or quaking puddings, that will tremble at the sight of a knife or a spoon. And as it sometimes happens that those who frequent Eating-houses often mistake their pocket for their mouth, and, as it is a pity that the belly should be defrauded of its due, he requests all such to take notice of this hint, and to be careful that they do not commit such mistakes. He has also fitted up a room for the use of ladies, but he wishes that it may be publicly known, that no woman is to be admitted in half

With ivy o'ergrown, an old mansion house stool,
That was built on the skirts of a chilling damp
wood,

Where the yew tree and cypress were growing.
The villagers shook as they pass'd by the doors,
When resting at eve from their labours,
And the trav'ller full many a furlong went round,
If his ears once admitted the terrific sound

Of the tale that was told by the neighbours.
They said that the house on the skirts of the wat
By a saucer-ey'd ghost was infested,
Which fill'd ev'ry heart with confusion and frigh
By assuming strange shapes in the dead of
night,

Shapes monstrous and foul, and detested.
And truly they said, for the master well knew,
That this ghost was the greatest of evils,
For no sooner the bell of the mansion toll'd me
Than this frolicsome imp in a fury begun
To caper like ten thousand devils.

Be appeared in all forms the most strange and tas zadrouth,

Bere no goblin was ever so daring,

He witer'd loud shrieks, and most horrible cries, Care'd' his body and bones, and his sweet little eyes, at

Till his impudence grew beyond bearing.

Just at this nick o'time, as the master's sad heart
With sorrow and anguish was swelling,
He heard that a scholar, with science replete,
Full of mystical lore as an egg is of meat,
Had taken at Cambridge a dwelling.
The scholar was vers'd in all mystical arts,
Most famous was he throughout college,
To the Red Sea full many an unquiet ghost,
To repose with King Pharoah, and his mighty host,
He had sent. thro' his powerful knowledge.

To this scholar so learned, the master he went,
And so lowly he bent with submission,

Told the freaks of the ghost, and the horrible
frights,

That prevented his household from sleeping 'nights,

Then ofer'd this humble petition.

That he, the said scholar, in wisdom so wise,
Would this mischievous ghost lay in fetters,
And send him in torments for ever to dwell,
In the nethermost pit of the nethermost hell,
For destroying the sleep of his betters.

This scholar, so vers'd in all mystical lore,

Told the master his prayer should be granted, Teen order'd his horse to be saddled with speed, And perch'd on the back of his cream-colour'd

steed,

Trotted off to the house that was baunted.

He enter'd the house at the fall of the night,
The trees of the forest 'gan shiver,

The bone raven croak'd, and blue burnt the
Tight,

The and loudly shriek'd, and pale with affright,
The servants like aspens did quiver.

Bring some turnips and milk, the scholar he cried,
In a voice like the echoing thunder;

They brought him some turnips, and suct beside,
Some milk and a spoon, and his motions they ey'd,
Quite lost in conjecture and wonder.

He took up the turnips-he par'd off the skin,
Put them into a pot that was boiling,
Spread a table and cloth, and made ready to sup,
Then call'd fo a fork, and the turnips fish'd up..
In a hurry, for they were a spoiling

He mash'd up the turnips with butter and milk,
The hail at the casement 'gan clatter;
The scholar ne'er heeded the tempest without,
But raising his eyes, and turning about,

Ask'd the maid for a small wooden-platter.
He mash'd up the turnips with butter and milk,
The storm came on thicker and faster,
The blue lightnings flash'd and with terrific din,
The rain at each crevice and crauny crept in,
Tearing up by the root lath and plaster.
He mash'd up the turnips with batter and milk,
The mess would have ravish'd a glutton,
When, lo! his sharp bones scarcely cover'd his
skin,

The ghost from the nook o'er the window peep'd
in,

In the form of a boil'd scrag of mutton.
"Oh, ho!" cried the ghost, "what art doing
below,

The scholar look'd up in a twinkling,
Since the times are too hard to afford any meat,
To make my poor turnips more pleasant to eat,
A few grains of pepper I'm sprinkling.
Then he caught up a fork, and the mutton he
seized,

And sous'd it at once in the platter,
Threw o'er it some salt, and a spoonful of fat,
And before the poor ghost could tell what he

To pass were downright treason; To cut Ned Benson's not quite staunch ; But the provocative-a haunch!

Zounds! it's the first this season!
"Ven'son, thou'rt mine! I'll talk no more-
Then, rapping thrice at Benson's door,
"John, I'm in such a hurry!

Do tell your master that my aunt
Is paralytic, quite aslant,

I must be off for Surrey."

Now Tom at next door makes a din

"Is Captain Drew at home?"-" Walk in-" "Drew, how d'ye do?"-" What! Blewit "Yes, I-you've ask'd me, many a day, To drop in, in a quiet way,

JONAH'S SOLILOQUY.

What bouse is this? here's neither coal nor candle;

Where I nothing but guts of fishes handle

I and my table are both here within,

Where day ne'er dawn'd, where sun did never
shine

The like of this on earth man never saw,
A living man within a monster's maw!
Buried under mountains, which are high and
steep!

Plunged under waters hundred fathoms deep!
Not so was Noah in his house of tree,

For through a window he the light did see;
He sailed above the highest waves, a wonder,
I and my boat are all the waters under!
He and his ark might go and also come;
But I sit still in such a straighter'd room
As is most uncouth; head and feet together
Among such grease as would a thousand smother.
The above is extracted from the poems of the
Rev. Zachary Boyd, a man of undoubted piety,
though great eccentricity. He left his fortune
and his manuscripts to the University of Glasgow;
the latter part of his bequest, judging from the
specimen just given, must have been invaluable!

croakers; mortals endowed with optics so unhappily formed in their views of the affairs of others, that they can contemplate nothing in the long perspective of a fellow-creature's life but one uninterrupted scene of gloom,— "Shadows, clouds, and darkness, rest upon it." If you consult a person of this class on the subject of your affairs, there are no hopes which he will not deem unfounded, no expectations that are not too sanguine, no projects that are not fotile and visionary. Young persons, in particular, he will have a most kind and special care of guarding against that buoyancy of spirits so natural at their time of life. In addition to the hair-breadth 'scapes" to which all are liable, and on which he will not fail to expatiate most emphatically, he will discover, in the peculiar character of each individual with whom he converses, something calculated to augment his distrust and enhance his dangers. Though most lavish, even to intrusiveness, of his opinions, he is far from prodigal of advice. In fact, you would vainly seek it of him; his forte is dissuasion. Whatever steps you propose to pursue, ask his sentiments upon the subject, and all that you are likely to learn is, that "here Scylla foams, and there Charybdis yawns." He will leave no objection to any of your plans unstated; and availing himself of the noted maxim of antiquity, that the gods have placed all human good on the right hand and on the left, he will never leave his argument till he has, to the best of his ability, succeeded in convincing you, that, let the measures you intend to adopt be what they may, your object will prove equally unattainable. If he have sufficient influence over the person he addresses, he will, perbe thus enabled to beget in him all the indofence of indecision, and all the torment of suspense. But, though the croaker may succeed in establishing the impropriety of every plan suggested by another, he will be careful not to The world abounds with a description of per- commit himself, or assist you by proposing any son who may be designated by the title of substitute. It is in dissuasion, as I have before

ON DR. JOHNSON.

By Soame Jenyngs.

Here lies poor Johnson; reader, have a care,
Tread lightly, lest ye rouse a sleeping bear ;
Religious, moral, gen'rous, and humane
He was, but self-conceited, rude, and vain;
Ill-bred, and overbearing in dispute,
A scholar and a Christiau, yet a brute;
Would you know all his wisdom and his folly,
His actions, sayings, mirth, and melancholy,
Boswell and Thrale, retailers of his wit,
Will tell you how he wrote, and talk'd, and spit,

JOB'S COMFORTERS.

observed, that he shines. Besides, he abounds in | cussing the projects of his friends, and the latter predictions, though invariably of an unfavourable when he derides the hopes of indifferent person, description, and prides himself not a little on bis His voice is chilling, and his aspect acetons; and gift in the way of prophecy. Indeed, it would he is unfortunately gifted with an intuitive per be surprising if he had not much room for boast-ception of the most ready means of overclouding ing in this line; for if he be of your acquaintance, the sunny scenes of pleasure, or of making scarcely any mishap of any description can befal darkness of troubledeeper and deeper still." you, of which you will not be able to say with truth,

In vain would you exclaim to Tim, in the midat of his career, male ominatis parcite verbis:" "Sæpe sinistra cavâ prædixit ab illice cornix." they appear to be his natural dialect, and we might almost suspect that he lisped in them, as Pope For the human croaker is no less an ill-omened did in numbers, from his very infancy. To a lady boder of mischief in modern times, than the fea- who had recently lost her only child, Tim kindly thered one was esteemed to be among the ancients. remarked, that the distemper was evidently here And, as his prophecies respecting some one or ditary decline, and that it was common to her other of his acquaintance include almost every husband's family, all of whom had died very circumstance in the dark catalogue of physical young. His saturnine temperament can even and moral evil; as his provident anticipations contrive to extract prospective misfortune out of have marked out, for sundry of his fellow-crea-present felicity. If a young tradesman has made tures, nearly every article of deprecation which a successful beginning, Tim will observe, how the Litany affords; it may be pretty confidently expected, in a world so replete with vice and misery as ours, that no small portion, among so rich a variety, will certainly be accomplished.

much better it in general ultimately proves to take the rough of life before the smooth that

fair and softly goes far in a day;" and that the usual consequences of early success in trade is to 5 My acquaintance, Tim Damper, may not un- turn a young person's brain, and to render him justly be regarded as the unrivailed prince of the extravagant and negligent of his business. Being croaking fraternity. I was about to have called in company with the sister of a gentleman in the him my friend; but, really, whatever may be his bank, who is fond of fashionable amusements, be intentions, as far as his conduct may decide, Tim made various comments on the strong temptation is a friend to no man. Though my knowledge under which persons in that department, parti of his character ought, by this time, to have cularly if of gay habits, must labour to be guilty neutralized the effects of his conversation upon of embezzlement, if not of forgery. Tim is never me, I seldom escape from his company without a without a newspaper in his pocket, which be refit of the vapours. Tim, is, in fact, a kind of ders admirably subservient to his purpose. It moving upas tree, whose contagions influence, meets with any person who has friends at sea, bet wherever it is diffused, blights all the joyous never fails to read, with great deliberation, the freshness and enlivening gaiety of life. If hope accounts of the damages done by heavy gales have been justiy termed the taper who glim- and, as a commentator on the Bankrupt List, be mering light can, in some measure, cheer the most is a very Bentley. The other day he was edifying gloomy scenes of existence, Tim may not unaptly a widow lady, whose son is at Smyrna, with sque be denominated the extinguisher, The habitual very amplified accounts of the present coolest expression of his physiognomy is either the gravity between the Greeks and the Turks; and yesterday of mournful anticipation, or the withering smile evening, taking a turn towards Westminster, of contempt. The former is employed while dis-detected him in the act of endeavouring to cen