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A BLEssrn spot.
From an Epigram of Abulfadhel Ahmed, surnamed At Hamadani, recorded in D'Herbelot. Hamadan is my native place; And I must say, in praise of it, It merits, for its ugly face, What every body says of it. Its children equal its old men In vices and avidity; And they reflect the babes again In exquisite stupidity. or IGINAL Pla Y-Bills. The usual method of advertising the performances at the London theatres was originally by affixing them to numerous posts, which formerly encumbered the streets of the metropolis; and hence the phrase, posting-bills. Taylor, the water-poet, relates that master Field, the player, riding up Fleet-street at a great pace, a gentleman called him, and asked him what play was played that day He being angry to be staid on so frivolous a demand, answered that he might see what play was to be played on every post. “I cry your mercy,” said the gentleman, “I took you for a post, you rode so fast.” wilkes's Quenies. I wish you at the devil, said somebody to Wilkes. I don't wish you there. Why? Because I never wish to meet you again.
The case was opened by Sweet Mouth, who so.
And Mouth had better, as she says she can, Haye gained the cause by silence than this plan. “What are the silent charms, the godlike powers To show for her cause, when compared with ours? We charm a hundred and a thousand ways, By sweetness, by a stealth, § sparkling rays, And by what Sweet Mouth blames—but is the part We glory in the most—the gentle art Of melting with a tear the manliest heart. Where Sweet Mouth gains a single conquest, we Roll in a round of ceaseless victory : And for one song in which she bears the prize, A hundred thousand sparkle with Fine Eyes. In courts, and cities, in the poet's groves, What is there heard of but our darts and loves 1 Such sudden strokes we deal, such deeds we vaunt, That those do well, who say that we enchant. We come, and all surrender up their arms. Though often in the whirl of those alarms, Fine Mouth comes following in, and then pretends her charms. Heaven grant the people ask not who she is, Or she o o: and “thank the gods amiss. 'Tis true, she has two words of magic touch, * I love;' but cannot Fine Eyes say as much We have a tongue that with no words at all Can ask, and hint, and tell a tale, and call, And ravish more than all the pearls and songs, Which Sweet Mouth musters round her tongue of tongues.” The Counsel started here, and took occasion to make a very happy peroration. ie caught a lady's eye, just coming in, With an ..". the sweetest ever seen: se changed his tone, and with a gravity, econded well by a reposing eye, aid—"I’ve been taking up your Lordship's time oth trifling matters fitter for a rhyme; 3 ok there my Lords, I think 'twould be absurd, iter that sight, to add another word. ay give the sentence —we are quite secure: * client would not tire the court I'm sure.” The lady, with a pretty shame, looked round
That all hands dropt their papers for surprise, .
A true critic. A true critic hath one quality in common with a whore and an alderman, never to change his title or his nature. swift's MAccors. Swift dining one day with a lady, complained that a leg of mutton, one of the dishes at table, was full of maggots;–“ Not half so full as your head, doctor,” replied the lady drily. The doctor was silent and did not rally for the remainder of the evening.
irish priestcraft. An Irish peasant complained to the Catholic priest of his parish, that some person had stolen his best pig, and supplicated his reverence to help him to the discovery of the thief. The priest promised his best endeavours; and his inquiries soon leading him to guess the offender, he took the following amusing method of bringing the matter home to him. Next Sunday, after the service of the day, he called out with a loud voice, fixing his eyes on the suspected individual, “Who stole Pat Doolan's pig. 2” There was a long pause, and no answer; he did not expect that there would be any, and descended from the pulpit without saying a word
ith speaking eyes, which dealt so wide a wound,
more. A second Sunday arriving without the pig great gentry; wherein by his on of fart, o: being restored, his reverence, again looking stead-i hundred quarters of wheat, three ** d fastly at the stubborn purloiner, and throwing a thirty tuns of ale, one hundred and four
deep note of anger into the tone of his voice, re- wine, one pipe of spiced wine, peated the question, “Who stole Pat Doolan's pig wild bulls, one thousand and four weo." I say,who stole poor Pat Doolan's pig 3" Still there hundred hogs, there hundred caire. “”. was no answer, and the question was left as before, sand geese, three thousand capons, to horro to work its effect in secret on the conscience of the pirs, one hundred peacocks, two hundred go guilty individual. The hardihood of the offender two hundred birds, two thousand chico however exceeded all the honest priest's calcula- thousand pigeons, four thousand to *
tions. A third Sunday arrived and Pat Doolan was still without his pig. Some stronger measures now became necessary. After service was performed, his reverence, dropping the question of “Who stole Pat Doolan's pig 2" but still without directly accusing any one of the theft, reproachfully exclaimed, “Jimmie Doran : Jimmie Doran you trate me with contimpt.” Jimmie Doran hung down his head, and next morning the pig was found at the door of Pat Doolan's cabin. Another Irish priest, by name Felix Macabe, author of a grammar of the English language, was expatiating from the pulpit on the reciprocal duties of the pastor and his flock, and on the account to be given on that subject at the day of final retribution. “Well, father Felix,” he observed, “the great Judge will say, and how have you fulfilled the duties of your office? Have you neglected the charge you undertook, or supplied the wants of your parishioners ? and I shall reply, “Holy Father, I prached to them, and I prached to them, 1 prayed for their sowls, and I gave them my blessings.’ Well, Father Felix, and how did your flock trate you ? Did they pay you their dues and bring you their offerings & And then you villains, what am I to say?" added he, apostrophizing the congregation, “You know you do nothing but chate me.” cleriCAL FEASt.
“In the year 1470, says Fuller, in his Church History, “George Nevill, brother to the great Earl of Warwick, at his instalment into the Archbishoprick of York, gave a prodigious feast to all the nobility, most of the prime clergy, and many of the
One Sunday, as Roger Cox, Dean Swift's clerk, was going to church, his scarlet waistcoat caught Swift's eye; Roger bowed, and observed, that he wore scarlet because he belonged to the church militant.
Wit has its walks and purlieus, out of which it
... stray the breadth of an hair, upon peril
Foote's wife. Dr. Nash, of Worcester, being in town one spring, not long after Foote's marriage, intended to pay his old fellow-collegian a visit, but was much surprised at hearing that he was in the Fleet-prison. Thither he hastened directly; and found him in a dirty twoPair-of-stairs back room, with furniture every way suitable to such an apartment. The Doctor, shocked at this circumstance, began to condole with him; when Foote cut him short by turning the whole into raillery: “Why, is not this better,” said he, “than
the gout, the sever, the small-pox, and * The thousand various ills That flesh is heir to "
This is a mere temporary confinement; without pain, and not very uncongenial (let me tell you) to this sharp biting weather: whereas the above disorders would not only give pain and confinement for a time, but perhaps ultimately prevent a man from ever going into the world again.”
Laughing on in this manner, the Doctor perceived something stir behind him in the bed; upon which he got up, and said he would call another time.— “No, no,” said the other, sit down: “”tis nothing but my Foot.”—“Your foot ” said the Doctor: “welf; I want no apologies, I shall call another time.”—“I tell you again,” said the other, “’tis oothing but my Foot; and to convince you of its being no more, it shall speak to you directly." Upon this his poor wife put her head from under the bedclothes; and, with much confusion and embarrassment, made many apologies for her distressed situation.
INNs FOR-ALL-CLAsses. The gentry to the King's Head The nobles to the Crown, The knights unto the Golden Fleece, And to the Plough the clown. The church-man to the Mitre, The shepherd to the Star, The gardener hies him to the Rose, To the Drum the man of war. To the Feathers, ladies, you; the Globe The seaman does not scorn, The usurer to the Devil, and The cit unto the Horn. The huntsman to the White Hart, To the Ship the merchants go, But those that do the Muses love, The sign called River Po. The bankrupt to the World's End, The fool to the Fortune hies, Unto the Mouth the oyster wife, The fiddler to the Pies. The punk unto the Cockatrice, The drunkard to the Pine, The beggar to the Bush, or else He'll with Duke Humphrey dine."
ascension day. Foote, in walking about his own grounds at Northend one morning with a friend, spied dashing towards them on the Fulham road, two persons in one of those high phaetons so much the vogue of that day. “Is not that Moody,” said he, “in that strange threepair-of stairs phaeton ""—“Yes,” said his friend; “ and Mr. Johnson, the stock-broker, with him : and yet I wonder how he can leave his business, for I think this is no holiday.”—“Why, no,” said Foote; “I think not. except they choose to call this ascension day.” NEW MiNISTRies. There is one thing in all new ministries; for the first week or two they are in a hurry, or not to be seen; and when you come afterwards, they are engaged, swirt.
conjugal, LOVE. Could Kate for Dick compose the Gordian string, The Tyburn knot how near the nuptial ring ! A loving wife, obedient to her vows, is bound in duty to exalt her spouse. on SEEING vert SEs writtex U Pon WINDows at INNs. The sage who said he would be proud Of windows in his breast, Because he ne'er one thought allow'd That might not be confest; His window scrawl'd by ev'ry rake, His breast again would cover; And fairly bid the devil take The di'mond and the lover. - A NOTHER. That love is the devil I’ll prove when requir’d; These rhymers abundantly show it: They swear that they all by love are inspir'd, And the devil's a damnable poet. Tui E BEST OF A B.A. D. Job. When Dr. Franklin was agent in England for the province of Pennsylvania, he was frequently applied to by the ministry for his opinion respecting the operation of the Stamp Act ; but his answer was uniformly the same, “that the people of America would never submit to it.” After the news of the destruction of the stamped papers had arrived in England, the ministry again sent for the Doctor to consult with; and in conclusion offered this proposal : “That if the Americans would engage to pay for the damage done in the destruction of the stamped paper, &c. the arliament would then repeal the act.” The Doctor, aving paused upon this question for some time, at last answered it as follows:– “This puts me in mind of a Frenchman, who, having heated a poker red-hot, ran furiously into the street, and addressing the first Englishman he met there, Han monsieur, woulezvous give me de plaisir, de satisfaction, to let me run this poker only one foot into your body ?'—“My body' replied the Englishman: ‘what do you mean o'— Pet den, only so far, marking about six inches, “Are you mad Î' returned the other; I
The PLEAsix g ReptoiseShe that denies me, I would bawe, Who craves me 1 despise, Venus has pow'r to rule my heart, But not to please my eyes. Temptations offer'd, I still scorn, Deny'd, l seek them still, I'll neither glut my appetite. Nor seek to starve inv will. Diana, double-cloth'd, offends, So Venus, naked quite, The last begets a surfeit, and The other no delight. That crafty girl will please me best, Who No for Yes can say, And ev'ry wanton willing Puss Can season with a Nay.