France, and the whale in England, shews that nature is big with something to be delivered of.

"Plots.-A plaguy plot discovered at Windsor against her life; and Mr. Watson, the queen's gardener, turned out of his place. These are rare rogues at making of plots. The truth is, the queen's gardener was a Whig, and they thought to thrust him into a plot. Nov. 1712.

"Taxes.-There were almost seven millions of money raised for 1712; and yet nobody paid at home or abroad, not so much as the two servants. Oh, brave R.! Thirteen millions raised for 1711 and 1712."

PUNNING MOTTOS.

NE VILE FANO-" Disgrace not the altar." Motto of the FANES, earls of Westmoreland.

TEMPLA quam delecta !-"Temples how beloved! Motto of the late earl TEMPLE.

NE VILE Velis—“ Form no mean wish." The NEVILLES, lords of Abergavenny,

VER NON semper viret-" The spring is not always green." Lord VERNON.

VERO nihil verius-" Nothing is truer than truth." Lord Vere.

CAVENDO tutus-" Secure by caution." The CAVENDISHES, dukes of Devonshire.

Bonne et BELL ASSEZ-“Good and handsome enough." BELLASYSE, earl of Fauconberg

Me frangas non flectas.-"You may break, but cannot bend me." House of STAFFord.

LINES,

Written in a Blank Leaf of Prior's Poems.

MATTHEW PRIOR, to me, 'tis excessively plain,
Deserves to be reckon'd the British Fontaine;
And Mr. Fontaine can never go higher
Than to be admir'd as the French Matthew Prior.
Thus, when Elizabeth desir'd,

That Melvill would acknowledge fairly,
Whether herself he most admired,

Or his own sov'reign, lady Mary?

The puzzled knight his answer thus express'd:
In her own country, each is handsomest."

A MACARONIC.

By Tom Dishington, sometime Clerk of Crail.

Horrifero nivium nimbos Aquilone ruente,

Sic tonuit THOMA DISHINGTONUS ore rotundo.

Saccum cum sugaro, cum drammibus in a glasseo,
In hoc vervece, est melius quam pipe o' tobacco.
Ælli cum bikero, cum pyibus out o' the oono,
Cum pisce, Crelli nominato vulgo caponem
Quid mellus, si sit ter unctus butyro?
Virides et beefum, cum nose-nippante sinapi;
O quam gustabunt ad Maria More's fyr-sydum!
Sin erimus drunki, Deel care! aras dat medicinum
"Qui bibit ex lastis ex firstibus incipit ille."

SUPPRESSED BIBLES.

1538.-An English Bible, in folio, printed at Paris, un

finished.

1542.-Dutch Bible by Jacob Van Leisvelt. The sixth and best edition given by Leisvelt, and famous as being the cause of this printer being beheaded.

1566.-French Bible by Rene Benoist, Paris, 1566, folio, 3 vols. completed.

1622. Swedish Bible, printed at Lubeck, in 4to., very defective.

1666.-A German Bible, printed at Helmstedt, in part only, 4to.

1671.-A French Bible, by Marolles, in folio, containing only the books of Genesis, Exodus, and the first twenty-three chapters of Leviticus.

EPILOGUE TO A CONDEMNED PLAY.

ON Saturday, 20th February, 1779, a new farce, entitled "Jehu," was attempted to be performed at Drury Lane theatre; but it was received by the audience with such marks of disapprobation, that, in the middle of the second act, the curtain was dropped. However, the audience seemed unwilling to depart; some calling out for the piece to go on, and others for the appearance of the manager. At length, Mr. King came in front of the curtain, and to the no small surprise and amazement of the audience, delivered the fol

lowing poetical address or epilogue, so very apposite to the fate of the farce, that it was the general conviction it had been written in the anticipation (a rare thing indeed) that the piece could not succeed. Whatever may have been the merits of "Jehu," his epitaph, (as we may fitly term this address) is well entitled to preservation for its point and cleverness; nor will it lessen its claims to originality for the reader to know that it was prepared before-hand by the author of the farce himself."

(To the Gallery.)

Here's "Long-trotting Tom," here's "Finger the Reins,"
And tip all the go-by from London to Staines.
I say, how d'ye relish my foul weather rug,
My wig too, is that all tight, clever, and snug?

(To the Pit.)

This is coarse kind of humour for you to connive at,
And you'll wonder, no doubt, what the d-l I drive at.
To be brief, 'tis at this-when an authorling dreams
Of Parnassus's mount, and Pierian streams,

He in metaphor utters his joys and his hopes,
Eats, drinks, coughs, and sneers, in figures and tropes.
In this style, our bard with his comedy came,
(For farce is a term modern authors disclaim);
'Tis true that Miss Farce is dame Comedy's child;
But renounced by mamma as too skittish and wild ;
Much given to giggling, and hoydenish airs,

While she's always a-crying, or saying her prayers.
Why she whines thus of late, many things have been said;
Some pretend 'tis because wit and humour are dead.
Be that as it may, says the bard-" Mr. King,
My diligence here is a slight little thing;
But slight as it is, perchance it may thrive,
Could I get such a coachman as you are to drive."
First, said I, let me ask if your tackle's all tight?
If your cattle have wind to run through a third night?

It is said by some, who were present, to have merited less severity than it met with.

"The author has kept himself concealed. As this farce satirized the folly of noblemen and gentlemen taking upon themselves the character and appearance of coachmen, and dedicating the chief study of their lives to the driving of carriages, it might bear revival. The character of "Lord Jehu," which was admirably sustained by Mr. King, was, at that time, thought personal; but this could not be an objection in the present day.”—Biographia Dramatica, vol. ii. p. 343.

For we know but too well, 'tis confounded dull working,
Where all must depend on our flogging and jerking;
Besides, on the road, there is nothing that cheers
Your tits, like a few jingling bells at their ears;
And the d--l a crotchet have you of a song
To help either driver or cattle along.

'Tis with coachmen, as well as with authors, the way
To whistle and sing, if they've little to say.
These are tokens of old, ever known to portend
That the wit on the journey draws near to an end.
You young scribblers too, think you never can fail—
Gee up! off at once! all the way on the nail!
While the critics lie by 'till you totter and reel,
Then one of them sticks a dd spoke in your wheel.
When over you go, 'tis in vain that you hollo
To the patron of poets and coachmen-Apollo.
Just as Cornish men flock round a wreck on the shore,
In a trice you're surrounded by critics a score;
Who (while you are struggling in vain to get loose)
Will pluck you as bare as a Lincolnshire goose.
In that case, as you're wHIP for ONE stage I'll agree,
But the d- -1
may drive it a SECOND for me.

CHANGES OF MINISTRY.

"As through the field of politics we range,
So every quidnunc wishes for a change;
Nay, party grumblers promise to agree,
Would but the king once change-the ministry."

Prologue to "The Spendthrift."

On the 21st of December, 1778, lord North and his family were at Covent Garden Theatre, when the farce of "The Spendthrift," just then brought out, formed part of the entertainment. When the prologue was speaking, at the passage above quoted, his lordship's son, a fine lad of about fourteen, pulled his father by the sleeve, and laughed immoderately. The father too smiled; and was observed to return the twitch, as Lee Lewes, who spoke the prologue, archly continued: :

"A month, perhaps, they might not much complain;
But then, grown old, they'd wish it new again.'

THE SPECTATOR.

The celebrated pastoral in No. 603 of the Spectator, beginning

"My time, O ye Muses! was happily spent,"

was the production of Dr. Byrom, who, when he wrote it, was a student at Trinity College, Cambridge. The Phoebe that gave rise to this elegant composition, was Miss Johanna Bentley, daughter of the learned critic, Dr. Bentley. The sonnet however did not win her, for she was married to Dr. Dennison Cumberland, bishop of Killaloe, in Ireland, by whom she became the mother of Richard Cumberland, the dramatist.

WINDOW GLEANINGS.

SHENSTONE has furnished a quatrain, which is often inscribed on the windows of inns, by those who wish to flatter their host, and have not the genius to pay him an original compliment.

"Whoe'er has travell'd life's dull round,

Where'er his stages may have been;
Must sigh to think he still has found

The warmest welcome at an Inn."

At an inn, at Taunton, in Somersetshire, where these lines were inscribed on the window, an equally experienced but less complaisant traveller added as follows:

"Whoe'er has travell'd much about,
Must very often sigh to think,
That every man will burn you out,
Unless you've plenty of the chink."

A sighing lover, who had penned " sonnets on his mistress's eyebrows," to no purpose, thus gives vent to his wrongs in a few lines scrawled on the window of an inn, at Elsemere, in Shropshire. It need not be mentioned that the idea is from an ancient epigammatist.*

66

**

Dust is lighter than a feather,

The wind much lighter is than either;

But alas! frail woman kind,

Is far much lighter than the wind."

* See "Woman's Mind," article "Epigrams," page 327.