ERASMUS AND SIR THOMAS MORE.

On the arrival of the great reformer Erasmus in England, it was the wish of several eminent literary persons that a meeting between him and Sir Thomas More, the celebrated author of Utopia, should be contrived in such a manner that neither party should suspect his being in the company of the other.

At the period alluded to, the hospitality of the Lord Mayor of London was uniformly extended to all whose attainments in learning rendered them competent to converse in Latin. How different is the doom of the Latinist in the present day!

"Tempora mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis."

It was therefore agreed that at this seat of the learned, these two distinguished scholars should meet. Conversation ensuing, a dispute arose between them ca the much contested doctrine of transubstantiation, and the polemical skill evinced in the controversy excited mutual astonishment. At length Erasmus, entertaining a suspicion of the character to whom he was opposed, exclaimed, "Aut Morus es, aut nullus;' to which Sir Thomas replied, "Aut Erasmus es, aut Diabolus." So much was More delighted with the talents of his illustrious antagonist, that he gave him an invitation to his country seat, at which Erasmus passed a considerable time. In the course of the argument at the Lord Mayor's table, on the subject of the real presence, Sir Thomas had urged that the want of any saving influence to the heretic, in partaking of the sacred elements, was no proof against transubstantiation, since it was by the faithful only that the body and blood of Christ were verily and indeed taken and received in the Lord's Supper; and that there, faith was itself the great instrument in the conversion of the said elements to the receivers. During Erasmus's stay at Sir Thomas's residence, he was repeatedly pressed by the latter to accept of some token of his regard and remembrance. Erasmus had fixed for the object of his choice on a favourite horse of More's; but remembering his sophistry in the debate alluded to, instead of acquainting the chancellor with his intention, he rode off with the steed the day

of his departure from Sir Thomas's, leaving the, following note for his host

Quod mihi dixisti,
De corpore Christi,
Crede ut edas, et edes;
Sic tibi rescribo,
De tuo palfrido,
Crede ut habeas, habes!

MR. AND MRS. VITE.

A vorthy cit von Vitsunday,
Vith vife rode out in von horse chay,
And down the street, as they did trot,
Says Mrs. Vite, I tell you vot,
Dear Villiam Vite 'tis my delight,

Ven our veek's bills ve stick 'em,
That side by side ve thus should ride
To Vindsor, or Vest Vickham.
My loving vife, full vell you know
Ve used to ride to Valthamstow,
But now I thinks its much the best
That ve should ride tovards the vest,
If you agree dear vife vith me,

And vish to change the scene-
Then, ven the dust excites our thirst,
Ve'll stop at Valham Green.
Vell then, says Mrs. Vite, says she,
Vat pleases you must sure please me :
But veekly vorkings all must go,
If ve this day go cheerful through;
For vell I loves the voods and groves,

They raptures put me in ;

For, you know Vite, von Vitsun-night,
You did my poor heart vin!
Then, Mrs. Vite, she took the vip,
And vack'd poor Dobbin on the hip,
Vich made him from a valk go fast,
And reach the long vish'd sign at last;
So ven they stopt, out vaiter popt,

Vat vould you vish to take?
Said Vite, vith grin, I'll take some gin,
My vife takes vine and cake.

Ven Mrs. Vite had took her vine,
To Vindsor on they vent to dine;
Ven dinner done now Vite did talk,
My darling vife ve'll take a valk;
The path is vide by vater side,
So ve vill valk together,
Vile they gets tea for you and me,
Ve vill enjoy the veather.
Some vanton Eaton boys there vere,
Vich marked for vaggery the pair ;
Mrs. Vite cried out, vat are you arter?
Ven in they put Vite in the vater;
The vicked vits then left the cits,

And Vite the vaves sunk under;
She vept, she bawl'd, she vail'd, she squall'd,
Vill not one help I vonder.

Her vimpering vords assistance brought,
And vith a boat-hook Vite they sought,
Mrs. Vite, with expectation big,
Thought Vite was found, but 'twas his vig.
Vite vas not found, for he vas drown'd;

To stop her grief each bid her,
Alas! she cried, I vas a bride,
But now I is a vidder.

de afternoon called in St. James's-street-not at home very bad luck-thought to have touched something dere.

Tuesday-Went to de west end of de townbought some old clothes-took in-gave great price for de breeches, thinking I felt guinea in de fob left there by mistake-only done to cheat me-nothing in de world but counterfeit halfpenny-sold dem again to Levi-took him in de same way-very good dat

Wednesday-Went to St. James's-street againde devil is in de man-not at home-met Levi; te scolded me about de breeches-not mind dat at allwent to poff at de auction--very well paid-engaged to poff at anoder in the evening-found out dereobliged to sneak off-found a pair of candlesticks in my coat-pocket-dropped in by aceshident—sold dem ta Mr. Polishplate, de silversmith-did very well by cs

Thursday-On 'Change-met de gentleman with de white wig--wanted more monies-let him have it -very good securities-like white wigs-carried my advertisement to de newspaper, signed Z-pretty crooked letter dat-always sure to bring customers.

Friday-Found a watch in my coat pocket-dropped in by aceshident-made some money by datmet my good friend Mr. Smash-not seen him since he was a bankrupt-arrested him for de monies be owed me went home, and prepared for de sabbath. THE ROCHDALE VICARS, OR FISH, FLESH, AND FOWL.*

The Arch-cook at Lambeth, three dishes has sent,
To please us at Rochdale;-how kind!
The first was plain Wray, with a sauce of content,
The second was venison Hind.

The next that he sent was a very fine Drake,

A dainty nice fowl in its way:

On the clerical chairman, no comments I'll make,
For a brute is the best judge of Hay.
We have had a full feast of Fish, Flesh, and Fuwi,
But alas they have all passed away;
The parish of Rochdale, now grumble and growl,
For no one can relish Old Hay

four successive vicars of Rochdale,
"Wray, Hind, Drake, and Hay" are the names of the

A GOOD REASON FOR STAYING FROM CHURCH.

A zealous priest, and in his way

A pious man, as people say,

For weeks had miss'd from church and station

A member of his congregation,

And having long made the remark,
Anxious to learn, he ask'd his clerk,
If he could any cause assign
Why he rejected grace divine,
"I hope poor man, he's not unwell;
Perhaps become an infidel!

Pray heaven 'tis not Socinianism

Or

any strange fanaticism,

That keeps him from us thus away

And leads him from the flock astray?"

"Oh no, sir," said the clerk-" 'tis worse Than these alas! a greater curse." "What worse than Socinianism, It surely cannot be Deism?"

Oh worse than that," replied the clerk, "Your worship still is in the dark." "Worse than Deism, it cannot be ;". "Tis bad enough, sir, I agree." "Good God, 'tis not Atheism sure. We'll try and work the apostate's cure." "You're wrong again, Sir, I confess The cause is difficult to guess, Tis neither heresy nor schism, But that accursed-Rheuma-tism.”

HUMOURS OF A COUNTRY THEATRE.

With mortgaged scenery, an empty exchequer, and a rebellious orchestra, a country manager must still keep up his spirits and his importance. It would ineed be impossible to bring before you all the miseries of a manager, for, alas! they are numberless! Suppose, therefore, that we introduce you to Manager Varnish, of strolling notoriety, collecting a new comDany of barn-door comedians to provincialize, alias o vagabondize over his stage of six deal boards, and aw-dust in the boxes. Behold him, at his morning vee then-bursting with importance and swelling

Timothy!-this is my court of Apollo, my morning nuisance, my-why Timothy, I say!-Oh! here you come sir, crawling in, like the half-price on a rainy evening! Well sir, who waits? Any body wanting the manager?"

"Oh, yes! lots of them, sir; there s a one-armed man inquires if you want another hand-a woodenlegged gentleman to play the Lame Lover-a real Blackamoor for Othello, four Romeos, one Harlequin, three Fools, and a French marquess to come out in Richard."

"All waiting now, eh Timothy ?" "Yes, sir." "Then tell the one-armed man to take to his heels, and the wooden-legged gentleman to hop the twig, and skip to another branch. Harlequin and the Romeos may keep the Fools company; and send me up the Blackamoor and the French gentleman, one at a time."

The man of colour having made his entré, afte much grinning and gesticulation, thus addressed the astonished manager-"You massa Jonkoo man?— keep play-house, show fine tragedy?"

"Massa Jonkoo man !-why-Oh! that's blacky language for an acting manager, I suppose!-I am, sir, at your service-you wish to appear in Othello, I understand, and to do you justice, you'll look the part certainly."-" Iss, massa, blacky all throughthrough, no come off, when hug! Now me show how act, massa, Othelly speech to him father-in-law."

"What with that cursed twang, fellow ?-Do you imagine the noble Moor spoke after that fashion?— however, e'en let's have it." Upon which Chingaree assumed what might be an elegant attitude among his native tribes, and thus commenced the famous oration to the Venetian Senate.

"Most potented sir reverences!

My very good massas! dat I take away
Old buckra man him daughter,
It all true, true, no lie was;

say-"Rude am I in speech!" "Oh! the more angel he, and you the blacker devil!" You may begone, fellow, for much as the public like novelty, they never could endure your abominable chumchum; and the greatest favour you can do me, is to make your exit as fast as possible." Othello having followed the manager's advice, was very speedily succeeded by the French gentleman, whose ambition was to enact Richard, Duke of Glo'ster. "Aha! sare, je suis, I am come to surprise you-I shall astonish the town, ma foi !--De play has never been personée-it was never performé, as I shall perform it-Mais, vous êtes silent--to all dis you say nothing!" Then I will say that I shall be extremely happy to have a specimen, Monsieur !"

-Now is de winter of our uneasiness
Made into summer by York little boy,
Dat is, vat you call, de son of York!
And de dark cloud, which stick at top
Of de house, is in de bottom of de sea,
Dead and buried! But as for me, aha!
I have de hump on my back, I have
De bandy leg, I am unfashionable, and
For all dis-de dog he bark bow wow at me
As I walk by him!

"Monsieur, sare, dat is suffisant, I hope-dat is quite

enough."

"Quite enough, sir, and as I fear the audience would think it a great deal too much, I must now bid you good morning!"

SINGULAR CHARITY.

BENEFIT OF WIGS.

At a peruke-maker's on the London-road there was formerly a sign, with Absalom hanging on a tree, and David lamenting over him; underneath were these lines: Oh! Absalom, my son, my son,

ing, Now

If thou hadst worn a wig Thou hadst not been undone.

PHISIOG NOMY OF A FUN-LOVER

Muster what do you,

you

call 'em? do now

half-foolish face; what a great many upon the stage A head full charged for fun exhibits a comical can put on, and what a great many people not upon the stage can't put off. The owner always laughs at what he says himself, and he imagines a man of wit must always be upon the broad grin; and whenever he is in company he is always teazing some one to be merry, saysay something to make us all laugh; come do now be comical a little. But if there is no other person will speak, he will threaten to tell you a story to make you die with laughing, and he will assure you, it is the most bestest and most commicallest story that ever you heard in all your born days; and he always interlards his narration with, So as I was a saying, says 1, and so as he was a saying, says he; so says he to me, and I to him, and he to me again;— did ever you hear any thing more comical in all your born days? But after he has concluded his narration, not finding any person even to smile at what he says, struck with the disappointment, he puts on a sad face himself, and looking round upon the company, he says, It was a good story when I heard it too: why then, so, and so, and so, that's all, that's all, gentlemen.

CALEB CALLOUT'S ANNOTATIONS ON SHAKSPEARE. I went to the playhouse as other folks do, And I heard and I saw such a hubbub,baboo: There was fighting, and screeching-but this here my

song

Shall tell you the story-the short and the long-
It was Richard the Third that I saw, you must know,
But O dear! it was such a tragical show-

They stuck men and poor babes-but Richmond so tall,

Stuck Dicky, who died and said nothing at all.
The next play I seed, O dear and O lack!
Where's a man called Othello, like sweepers was
black,

And he had a wife that was fair as a rose;

But wanting one morning to blow his black nose, Asked his dear for a wiper-which she told him was lost,

Which so greatly this sooty-like general crost,
That he took up a pillow, and swore it should fall
On her head-and for a woman she said little at all.
At the Merchant of Venice I stared with amaze,
Where a black-bearded Jew a nation sight pays
For one pound of flesh-nor could he once rest

MR. CURRAN AND THE PEASANT.

Mr. Curran, in some way or other, generally contrived to throw witnesses off their centre, and he took My lard-my care they seldom should recover it. lard"-vociferated a peasant witness, writhing under this mental excruciation-" My lard-my lard,'

-I can't answer yon little gentleman, he's putting me in such a doldrum."-" A doldrum! Mr. Curran, what does he mean by a doldrum?" exclaimed Lord Avonmore. "O! my lord, its a very common complaint with persons of this description-its merely a confusion of the head arising from a corruption of the heart."

WHICH ROAD?

All you that stop this stone to see, Pray mark my steps and follow me.

Underwritten on the Tombstone.

To follow you I'm not content,
Unless I knew the road you went.

TWO OF A TRADE.

A physician being summoned to a vestry, to repri

Then Macbeth so fine, spurred on by his wife,
Tickled up an old king with the end of a knife,
Then some bags told his fate, in a sort of a bawl,
When trees marched like men-he'd say nothing at

on the sexton's misconduct, that the latter indignantly replied, "Sir! I was in hopes you would have treated would my failings with more gentleness, or that have been the last man alive to appear against me, as I have covered so many blunders of yours!"

A MERRY MAN.

you

A merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal: His eye begets occasion for his wit; For every object that the one doth catch, The other turns to a mirth-moving jest ; Which his fair tongue (conceit's expositor) Delivers in such apt and gracious words, That aged years play truant at his tales, And younger hearings are quite ravished; So sweet and voluble is his discourse.