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nister of Dedham, in Essex. Going one Sunday to church from the lecture-house, he met an old Cambridge friend, who was coming to give him a call before sermon. After the accustomed salutations, Burkitt told his friend, that as he had intended him the favour of a visit, his parishioners would expect the favour of a sermon. The clergyman excused himself, by saying he had no sermon with him; but on looking at Burkitt's pocket, and perceiving a corner of his sermon-book, he drew it gently out, and put it in his own poet, The gentleman then said with a smile, • Mr. Burkitt, I will agree to preach for you.” He did so, and preached Burkitt's sermon. He, however, appeared to great disadvantage after Burkitt, for he had a voice rough and untuneful, whereas Burkitt's was remarkably melodious. “Ah!” said Burkitt to him archly, after sermon, as he was approaching him in the vestry, “you was but half a rogue; you stole my fiddle, but you could not steal my fiddlestick.”


Here lies a famous belly slave,
Whose mouth was wider than a grave $
Traveller, tread lightly o'er his clod,
For should he gape you're gone by G-d 1


A very serious complaint was once lodged before a justice of the peace in a northern county; against a simple countryman, for having damned the King. A warrant was accordingly issued, and the poor delinquent dragged before the bench, when the following interrogatories were put to him.

Justice.—Harkee you fellow ; how came you wickedly and profanely to damn his most sacred Majesty George the Third, of Great Britain, France, and ireland, King, Defender of the Faith, and so forth *

countryman.-Lord, your worship, I did not know that the King of Clubs was Defender of the Faith, or by my troth I would not have damn'd it.

Justice.—King of Clubs why, you rebellious rascal, what, do you add insult to treason Tell me what you mean. Countryman.-Mean, your worship, why you mun know that were noine and noine, at whisk and swabbers, clubs were trumps. I had eace and queen i' my own hand ; but as ill-luck would ha’t. our neighbour Tummus clapt his king smock upon my queen, and by gadlin they gotten the odd trick, so being well throttled with rage, your worship, I-I-I- cry’d damn the king f Justice.—Oh! well if that's all, thou mayst go about thy business: but see that thou never dost so again. Countryman,—God bless your Honour, I wonna

e'en curse a knave, for fear it should offend your Worship t

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The Riddle, Addressed to four Ladies.

Guess, gentle ladies, if you can,
A thing that's wondrous common,
What almost every well-bred man
Presents to every woman.
A thing with which you've often play'd
Betwixt your thumb and finger,
Though if too frequent use be made,
"Twill spoil you for a singer.
It's what weak dames and old abuse,
And often spoils the stronger ;
In short, 'tis rhetoric lovers use,
When they can talk no longer.
It is a pill or potion now,
Just as you're pleas'd to make it
Raises the spirits when they're low,
And tickles when you take it.

THE ANswer, by the LADies. To guess your riddle, gentle sir, Four dames in council sat ; So various their opinions were, That great was the debate. One said, 'twas music, play'd with skill, That caus’d all this emotion ; A second said, it was a pill; A third, it was a potion. The fourth was quite amaz'd to hear The ladies talk such stuff, Told them the case was very clear, And took a pinch of snuff.


Louis XIV. having been told that Lord Stair was one of the best-bred men in Furope, “I shall soon put him to the test,” said the king ; and asking Lord Stair to take an airing with him, as soon as the door of the coach was opened, he bade him pass and go in ; the other howed and obeyed. The king said, “The world is right in the character it gives of his lordship; another person would have troubled me with ceremony.”

old Age Not Relished BY LADIES.

Any imputation of old age is disagreeable to the fair sex, let the circumstance of poverty or debility be ever so great. . An aged woman soliciting alms in Islington, being asked when a wo: man was too old for matrimony replied, “That question you must ask of some one who is older than I am.”

A GRAve-digger's bill.

A grave-digger who had buried a Mr. Button, sent the following curious bill to his widow:— “To making a Button-hole......2s.” .

The sailor's PRAYeR.

When the British ships under Lord Nelson were bearing down to attack the combined fleet eff Trafalgar, the first-lieutenant of the Revenge, on going round to see that all hands were at quarters, observed one of the men devoutly kneeling at the side of his gun. So unusual, an attitude exciting his surprise, he asked the sailor if he was afraid “Afraid I.” answered the tar, “No, I was only praying that the enemy's shot may be distributed in the same proportion as prize-money—the greatest part among the officers.”


When Lord Stair was ambassador in Holland, he made frequent entertainments, to which the foreign ministers were constantly invited. The French Ambassador, in his turn, as constantly invited the English and Austrian ambassadors; and on one occasion proposed a health in these terms, “The Rising Sun, my master,” alluding to the device and motto of Louis XIV. It came then to the Austrian ambassador's turn to give a toast : and he proposed the “Moon,” in compliment to the Empress queen. The Earl of Stair was then called upon, and that nobleman, whose presence of mind never forsook him, drank his master, King William, by the name of “Joshua, the son

of Nun, who made the Sun and Moon stand still.”


Sure Nobody's a wicked devil,
The author of consummate evil;
In breaking dishes, basins, glasses,
In stealing, hiding—he surpasses.
Behold the punch-bowl crack'd around,
For weeks the ladle was not found ;
How crack’d—’twas Nobody that did it,
How misplac’d—'t was Nobody hid it.
When in the school, sits Dr. Pedani,
He calls to him that is the head in’t,
“Who made that noise who let his tongue
stir o’”
“Nobody, Siri” exclaims the youngster.
The governess some mischief spies out ;
And in a passion thus she clies out, -
“Hey day ! a pretty litter this is
Whose doing? pray! come, tell me, Misses
Whose doing?” she repeats with fury,
Nobody's, Madam, I assure you.
The lady of the house believes,
A guest her servant-maid receives.
A thief, perhaps, who shams the lover,
The windows' fastenings to discover ;
She hears a foot—yes, hears it plain,
And calls, “Who's there?”—but calls in vain:
She lists—so anxious she to know,
And hears a stranger's voice below ;
“Why, Jane, who is it you’ve got there 2"
“ Lord, Madam.— Nobody, I swear,
As every body can declare.”
“ l'in sure somebody it must be,”
“Nobody, Madam—come and see.”
She goes, but all in vain she peeps,
For any where Nobody creeps.
She finds her gravy-soup diminished;
Her ribs of beef are almost finished ;
“Hey-day, who those provisions took,”
“Nobody, Madam,” rejoins the cook
“Impossible what do you mean?”
“Why then the cat it must have been "
Thus Nobody is never seen
In Anybody's shape, but that
Of a domestic dog or cat.

This Nobody, how strange I think,
Can walk and talk, can eat and drink ;-
But male or female why, I ween
The gender must be Epicene.
An old offender it appears,
Who's liv'd above a thousand years;
For Polyphemus had his odd eye
Knock'd out by him, I mean Nobody.

QUIN AND the Beau.

Quin being one day in a coffee-house, saw a young beau enter, quite languid with the heat of the day. “Waiter,” said the coxcomb, in an affected faint voice, “Waiter, fetch me a dish of coffee, as weak as water, and as cool as a zephyr l’’ Quin, in a voice of thunder, imme diately vociferated, “Waiter, bring me a dish of coffee, hot as h-ll, and strong as d t—n.” The beau starting, exclaimed, “Pray, waiter, what is that gentleman's name o’’ Quin, in the same tremendous tone, exclaimed, “Waiter, pray what is that lady's name.”


The tradesmen of a man of fashion having dunned him for a long time, he desired his servant one inorning to admit the tailor, who had not been so constant in his attendance as the rest. When he made his appearance, “My friend,” said he to him, “I think you are a very honest fellow, and I have a great regard for you ; therefore, I take this opportunity to tell you, that I'll be d d if ever I pay you a farthing ! Now go home, mind your business, and don't lose your time by calling here. As for the others, they are a set of vagabonds and rascals, for whom I have no affection, and they may come as often as they choose.”

DUCHESS OF DEvoNSHIRE AND THE DUST MAN. As the late beautiful Duchess of Devonshire was one day stepping out of her carriage, a dustman, who was accidentally standing by, and was abont to regale himself with his accustomed whiff of tobacco, caught a glance of her countenance, and in

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PRompt ANSWeR.

Chateauneuf, keeper of the seals of Louis XIII. when a boy of only nine years old, was asked many questions by a bishop, and gave very prompt answers to them all. At length the prelate said, “I will give you an orange if you will tell me where God is "-" My lord,” replied the boy, “I will give you two oranges if you will tell me where he is not.”

Dr. Young.

One day as Dr. Young was walking in his garden at Welwyn, in company with two ladies, (one of whom he afterwards married,) the servant came to tell him that a gentleman wished to speak with him. “Tell him,” said the doctor, “I am too happily engaged to change my situation.” The ladies insisted he should go, but, as persuasion had no effect, one took him by the right arm, the other by the left, and led him to the gardengate t when, finding resistance in vain, he bowed, and spoke the following lines:– “Thus Adam look'd, when from the garden driv'n, And thus disputed orders sent from heav'n ; . Like him I go, but yet to go am loth ; Like him I go, for angels drove us both ; Hard was his fate, but mine still more unkil, d; His Eve went with him, but nine stays behind.”

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Yet the Muses declare, after diligent search,
No tree can be found to compare with the Birch.
The Birch, they aver, is the true tree of know-

ledge, Revered by each school, and remember'd at college. Though Virgil's fam'd tree may produce as its fruit,

A crop of vain dreams, and strange whims from
each shoot;
Yet the Birch on each bough, on the top of each
Bears the essence of grammar, the eight parts of
'Mongst the leaves is conceal’d more than mem'ry
can mention,
All cases, all genders, all forms of declension.
Nino. when cropp'd by the hand of the
Each duly arrang'd in a parallel line,
Tied up in nine folds of a mystical string,
And soak’d for nine hours in cold HELIcon's
Is a sceptre compos'd for a pedagogue's hand,
Like the Fasces of Rome, a true badge of command,
The sceptre thus finish'd, like Moses's rod,
From flints can draw tears, and give life to a clod.
Should darkness Egyptian, or ignorance spread
Its clouds o'er the mind, or envelope the head,
This rod thrice apply'd puts the darkness to flight,
Disperses the clouds, and restores us to light;
Like the Virga divina, 'twill find out the vein
Where lurks the rich metal—the gold of the brain
Should Genius, a captive, by Sloth be confin'd,
Or the witchcraft of pleasure prevail o'er the
Apply but this magical wand—with a stroke,
The spell is dissolv'd, the enchantment is broke,
Like HERMEs's rod, these few switches inspire
Rhetorical thunder, and Poetry's fire.
And if Morpheus our temples in Lethe should

These switches untie all the fetters of sleep.

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