Or whether thou the gentle socke dost weare,
Tickling with pleasure the spectator's eare;
Whether thou in the lofty buskin rage,

When the long tragicke robe doth brush the stage;
Thou, Pouertie along with thee shalt bring,
Whether thou Poëms write, or Poëms sing.

Seven cities warr'd for Homer, being dead,
Who, living, had no roofe to shrowd his head:
Poore Tityrus deplored his father's fields,
Rome to the hungry Statius scarce bread yields:
Naso, who many in that kinde surpast,
Beyond the Hyperborean Pole was cast,

Nor could shew cause for being thither chac'd,
But that he lov'd the Sisters; they him grac'd;
Nor hath the Poets' Patron's selfe* been free
From the strict lawes of dire necessitie;

But forc'd through want, amidst the fields and groues,
To keepe and feed the Emonian herds and droues.
Wherefore Calliope (who sung so well)

Did liue so long a maid, can any tell?

She had not been a virgin to this houre,

But that (to marry her) she wanted dower."

BENEVOLENCE OF DR. GARTH.

DR. GARTH, who united poetry with physic, being detained in his chariot, one day, in a

* Apollo, who kept Admetus his cattel,"

little street near Covent Garden, by a crowd collected by a battle between two female bruisers, an old woman hobbled up out of a cellar, and begged him, in the most earnest manner, to take a look at her poor husband, who was in a mortal bad way; adding, "I know you are a sweettempered gentleman, as well as a good doctor, and, therefore, make bold to ax your advice; for which, I shall be obligated to you as long as I live."

The Doctor, whose good-nature was equal to his medical knowledge, instead of being offended at the old woman's redundant address, quitted his chariot immediately, and followed her to her husband; but finding, by his appearance, that the man wanted food more than physic, and having reason to believe, from the answers they both returned to his questions, that they deserved his charity as much as they had excited his compassion, he sat down, and wrote a draft on his banker for ten pounds.

DR. LANGHORNE, AND HANNAH More.

IN 1773, the Doctor resided for a few months at Weston-supra-mare, in Somersetshire, for the benefit of the sea air. Mrs. Hannah More, at

the same time, and on the same account, resided at Uphill, a mile from Weston. Meeting one day upon the sea-strand, the Doctor wrote, with the end of his stick, upon the sand :

"Along the shore

Walk'd Hannah More;

Waves, let the record last:

Sooner shall ye,

Proud earth and sea,

Than what she writes, be past.

JOHN LANGHORNE."

Underneath, Mrs. More scratched with her

whip, these lines:

"Some firmer basis, polish'd Langhorne, chuse,

To write the dictates of thy charming Muse:
Her strains in solid characters rehearse,

And be thy tablets lasting as thy verse.

HANNAH MORE."

The Doctor praised her wit, and copied the lines, which he presented to her at a house near the sea, where they adjourned.

SIR JOHN HARRINGTON.

THIS celebrated Epigrammatist, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, was a man of great wit,

but thoughtless in his conduct, and extremely careless in the management of his affairs; so that, in consequence of his extravagance, he was obliged to part with several of his estates. Among the rest, he sold a very fine one, called Nyland, in Somersetshire, concerning which, Dr. Fuller, in his account of Harrington, relates a whimsical anecdote.

Sir John, being riding over this manor, accompanied by an old and trusty servant, suddenly turned round, and, with his usual pleasantry, said, "John, John, this Nyland,

Alas! once was my land.”

To whom John, as merrily and truly replied:

"If you had had more wit, Sir,

It might have been your's yet, Sir."

JAMES THOMSON.

THE Earl of Buchan, in his entertaining Life of Thomson, the Poet, relates the following whimsical anecdote.

Sir Gilbert Elliot, of Minto, afterwards Lord Justice Clerk, a man of elegant taste, was an early friend of Thomson; and when the first edition of the "Seasons" came out, the Author

sent a copy, handsomely bound, to Sir Gilbert, who shewed it to a relation of Thomson's, a gardener, at Minto: the man took the book into his hands, and, turning it over and over, gazed on it with admiration; on which, Sir Gilbert said to him-" Well, David, what do you think of James Thomson now? There's a book will make him famous all the world over, and immortalize his name." David, looking now at Sir Gilbert, and then at the book, said, "In troth, Sir, it is a grand book! I did na' think the lad was so clever as to ha' done sic neat a piece of handicraft."

POPE'S " ESSAY ON MAN."

SOON after the appearance of the first part of this celebrated poem, which came out without a name, one Morris, who had attempted some things in the poetical way, particularly a piece for music, which was performed in private before some of the Royal Family, accidentally paid a visit to Mr. Pope, who inquired of him what news in the learned world, and what new

pieces were brought forth? Morris replied, that there was little or nothing, but that there was a thing just come out, called, "An Essay