DIRECTIONS TO LADIES ON THE SUBJECT OF
DRESS.

Sound. Let Mrs. Toole, or Madame Bouchard, patch all these aricles together, one upon another. dash them plentifully over with stars, bugles, and tinsel, and they will altogether form a dress, which, hung upon a ladies back, cannot fail of supplying the place of beauty, youth, and grace, and of reminding the spectator of that celebrated region of finery, called Rag Fair.

IRISH LEARNING.

If the weather be very cold, a thin muslin gown, or frock, is most advisable-because it agrees with the season, being perfectly cool. The neck, arms, and particularly the elbows bare, in order that they may be agreeably painted and mottled by Mr. John Frost, nose-painter general of the colour of Castile soap. Shoes of kid, the thinnest The rector of Fintone, when examining his pa that can possibly be procured-as they tend to promote colds and make a lady look interesting- rishioners in the church, came up to a woman and (i. e. grizzly.) Picnic silk stockings, with lace asked her how many commandments there were? She answered, seven. The rector informed her clocks-flesh-coloured are most fashionable, as they have the appearance of bare legs-nudity there were ten, and inquired which was the first. being all the rage. The stockings carelessly bes- This was too hard for her, and when she was pattered with nud, to agree with the gown, which stammering about it, one John Patterson, a tailor, should be bordered about three inehes deep with behind her, whispered to her, "Thou shalt have the most fashionably coloured mud that can be found; the ladies permitted to hold up their traius, after they have swept two or three streets, erder to show the clocks of their stockings, e shawl scarlet, crimson, flame, orange, salmon, or any other combustible or brimstone colour, thrown over one shoulder, like an Indian blanket, with one end dragging on the ground.

N. B.-If the ladies have not a red shawl at hand, a red petticoat turned topsy-turvy, over the shoulders, would do just as well. This is called being dressed a-la-drabble.

When the ladies do not go abroad of a morning, the usual chimney-corner dress is a dotted, spotted, etriped, or cross-barred gown-a yellowish, whitist, smokish, dirty-coloured shawl, and the hair curiously ornamented with little bits of newspapers, or pieces of a letter from a dear friend. called the Cinderella dress."

This is

no other gods but me."-" Do you hear, sir,” quoth she, “what Johnny Patterson, a tailor body, here says to me? he says, I shall have no other gods but him; Deel in hell take such gods."

LEO X. AND HIS BUFFOON.

favour with Leo X. had been crowned arch-poet Querno, a kind of poetical buffoon, much in Rome. The Pope, fond of his burlesque talents, by the gay young men of fashion at the court of sent him choice dishes from his own table, but expected always some distich in return. Querno, like other bon-vivants, was tortured by the gout, and at one of its most powerful moments, he was obliged to write, in gratitude for a dainty, and sent the following:

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Archipoeta facit versus pro mille poetis." To which the good-humoured Leo added, "Et pro mille aliis archipoeta bibit,"

The recipe for a full-dress is as follows:-Take Then Querno, resolving to show himself superior of spider-net, crape, satin, gymp, cat-gut, gauze, to his sufferings, wrote, whale bone, lace, bobbin, ribands, and artificial flowers, as much as will rig out the congregation of a village church; to these add as many spangles, beads, and gew-gaws, as would be sufficient to turn

the heads of all the fashionable fair ones of Nootka

"Porrige, quod faciat mihi carmina docta, Falernum."

But the Pope as smartly replied,

"Hoc vinum enervat debilitatque pedes "

This sarcastic intercourse may be thus translated : | the sides, into a most pragmatical shape. He had Querno. For millions of poets, the arch-poet menting on its contents, to the thorough convica newspaper in his hand, and seemed to be com

composes,

Leo. By millions of bumpers, bepimpled his

nose is.

Querno. A bowl of Falernian, t'enliven iny strain,

Leo. You'll loose in your feet, what in measure you gain.

DIVINES OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY.

tion of mine host.

At sight of Master Simon the landlord was evihands, edge away from his corner, and make dently a little flurried, and began to rub his several profound publican bows; while the orator took no other notice of my companion than to talk rather louder than before, and with, as I thought, something of an air of defiance. When Selden was a member of the famous as- sheered off from the porch, and passed on, pressMaster Simon, however, as I have before said, embly of divines at Westminster, who were ap-ing my arm within his, and whispering as we got pointed to new-model religion, he used to delight in perverting them with curious quibbles. In one of these debates, these venerable sages were very gravely employed in determining the dis tance between Jerusalem and Jericho; and one of the brethren, to prove that it could be but a ort distance, observed, that "fish was carried from one place to the other." On which Selden aid, "Perhaps it was salt fish." This remark threw the determination again into an ancertainty.

THE VILLAGE POLITICIAN,

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As we approached the inn, we heard some one talking with great volubility, and distinguished the ominous words, taxes,' poor's rates," and agricultural distress." It proved to be a thin loquacious fellow, who had penned the landerd up in one corner of the porch, with his hands in his pockets as usual, listening with an air of the most vacant acquiescence.

by, in a tone of awe and horror, "That's a radical! he reads Cobbett!"

I endeavoured to get a more particular account of him frem my companion, but he seemed unwilling even to talk about him, answering only in general terms, that he was "a cursed busyfellow, that had a confounded trick of talking, and was apt to bother one about the national debt, and such nonsense; from which I suspected that Master Simon had been rendered wary of him by some accidental encounter on the field of argument; for these radicals are continually roving about in quest of wordy warlare, and never so happy as when they can tilt a gentleman logician out of his saddle.

On subsequent inquiry my suspicions have been confirmed. I find the radical has but recently found his way into the village, where he threatens to commit fearful devastations with his doctrines. He has already made two or three complete converts, or new lights; has shaken the faith of The sight seemed to have a curious effect on several others; and has grievously puzzled the Master Simon, as he squeezed my arm, and alter-brains of many of the oldest villageis, who had ing his course, sheered wide of the porch, as never thought about politics, or scarce any thing though he had not had any idea of entering. This else, during their whole lives. evident evasion induced me to notice the orator more particularly. He was meagre, but active his make, with a long, pale, bilious face; a black beard, so ill-shaven as to bloody his shirt tollar, a feverish eye, and a hat sharpened up at

He is lean and meagre from the constant restlessness of mind and body; worrying about with newspapers and pamphlets in his pockets, which he is ready to pull out on all occasions. He has shocked several of the staunchest villagers by talk

Ing lightly of the squire and his family; and also, that he never knows when he is beat. hinting that it would be better the park should be He has half a dozen old maxims, which he adcut up and made into small farms and kitchen-vances on all occasions, and though bis antagonist gardens, or feed good mutton instead of worthless may overturn them never so often, yet he always deer. brings them anew to the field. He is like the He is a great thorn in the side of the squire, robber in Ariosto, who, though his head might be who is sadly afraid that he will introduce politics cut off half a hundred times, yet whipped it on into the village, and turn it into an unhappy, his shoulders again in a twinkling, and returned thinking community. He is a still greater griev-as sound a man as ever to the charge. ance to Master Simon, who has hitherto been able Whatever does not square with Jack's simple to sway the political opinions of the place, with- and obvious creed, he sets down for "French out much cost of learning or logic; but has been politics;" for, notwithstanding the peace, he very much puzzled of late to weed out the doubts cannot be persuaded that the French are not still and heresies already sown by this champion of laying plots to ruin the nation, and to get hold of reform. Indeed, the latter has taken complete the Bank of England. The radical attempted to command at the tap-room of the tavern, not so overwhelm him one day by a long passage from a much because he has convinced, as because he has newspaper; but Jack neither reads nor believes out-talked all the old-established oracles. The in newspapers. In reply he gave him one of the apothecary, with all his philosophy, was as stanzas which he has by heart from his favourite, naught before him. He has convinced and con- and indeed only author, old Tusser, and which he verted the landlord at least a dozen times; who, calls his Golden Rules: however, is liable to be convinced and converted Leave princes' affairs undescanted on, the other way by the next person with whom he And tend to such doings as stand thee upon; talks. It is true the radical has a violent antaFear God, and offend not the king nor his laws, gonist in the landlady, who is vehemently loyal, And keep thyself out of the magistrate's claws. and thoroughly devoted to the king, Master Simon, and the squire. She now and then comes out on When Tibbets had pronounced this with great the reformer with all the fierceness of a cat-o'-emphasis, he pulled out a well-filled leathern mountain, and does not spare her own soft-headed purse, took out a handful of gold and silver, paid husband, for listening to what she terms such his score at the bar with great punctuality, re"low-lived politics." What makes the good turned his money, piece by piece, into his purse, woman the more violent, is the perfect coolness his purse into his pocket, which he buttoned up; with which the radical listens to her attacks, drawing his face up into a provoking, supercilious smile; and when she has talked herself out of breath, quietly asking her for a taste of her home brewed.

and then, giving his cudgel a stout thump upɔn the floor, and bidding the radical "good morning, sir!" with the tone of a man who conceives he has completely done for his antagonist, he walked with lion-like gravity out of the house. Two or The only person that is in any way a match for three of Jack's admirers who were present, and this redoubtable politician, is Ready-money Jack had been afraid to take the field themselves, lookTibbets; who maintains his stand in the tap-ed upon this as a perfect triumph, and winked at room, in defiance of the radical and all his works. each other when the radical's back was turned. Jack is one of the most loyal men in the country, Ay, ay!" said mine bost, as soon as the radical without being able to reason about the matter. was out of hearing, "let old Jack alone; I'l He has that admirable quality for a tough arguer,' warrant he'll give him his own!”

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FAMILY EPITAPU,

At Nelllbed, in Oxfordshire.

Here lies father and mother, and sister and 1;,
We all died within the short space of one year:
They are all buried at Wimble, except 1,
And I be buried here.

THE YOUTH OF PROMISE.

As old Cockloft was determined his son should be both a scholar and a gentleman, he took great pains with his education, which was completed at our university, where he became exceedingly expert in quizzing his teachers and playing billiards. No student made better squibs and crackers to blow up the chemical professor-no one chalked more ludicrous caricatures on the

To dear-bought wisdom give the credit due,
And think for once a woman tells you true.
In all these trials I have borne a part;
For since fifteen in triumph have I led
I was myself the scourge that caus'd the smart;
Five captive husbands from the church to bed.

Christ saw a wedding once, the Scripture says,
And saw but one, 'tis thought, in all his days;
Whence some infer, whose conscience is too nice,
No pious Christian ought to marry twice.

But let them read, and solve me if they can, The words address'd to the Samaritan; Five times in lawful wedlock she was join'd; And sure the certain stint was ne'er defin'd. "Increase and multiply" was Heav'n's command,

walls of the college-and none were more adroit And that's a text I clearly understand; This too, "Let men their sires and mothers leave, in shaving pigs and climbing lightning rods. He moreover learned all the letters of the Greek al-And to their dearer wives for ever cleave.” phabet; could demonstrate that water never "of its own accord" rose above the level of its source, and that air was certainly the principle of life, for he had been entertained with the humane experiment of a cat worried to death in an airpump. He once shook down the ash-house, by an artificial earthquake; and nearly blew his sister Barbara, and her cat, out of the window with detonating powder. He likewise boasts exceedingly of being thoroughly acquainted with the composition of Lacedemonian black broth and once made a pot of it, which had well-nigh poisoned the whole family, and actually threw the cook-aid into convulsions. But, above all, he

values himself upon his logic, has the old college

conundrum of the cat with three tails at his fin

More wives than one by Solomon were tried,
I've had myself full many a merry fit,
Or else the wisest of mankind's belied.
And trust in Heav'n I may have many yet;
For when my transitory spouse, unkind,
Shall die, and leave his woeful wife behind,
I'll take the next good Christian I can find.
Declar'd 'twas better far to wed than burn.
Paul, knowing one could never serve our turn,
There's danger in assembling fire and tow;
The same apostle, too, has elsewhere own'd,
I grant them that, and what it means you know.
No precept for virginity he found ;

'Tis but a counsel-and we women still

Take which we like, the counsel or our will.
I envy not their bliss, if he or she
Think fit to live in perfect chastity:

gers' ends, and often hampers his father with his syllogisms, to the great delight of the old gentle-Pure let them be, and free from taint of vice; Heav'n calls us different ways; on these bestows I for a few slight spots am not so nice. One proper gift, another grants to those,

man; who considers the major, minor, and conclusion, as almost equal in argument to the pulley,

the wedge, and the lever, in mechanics.

THE WIFE OF BATH,

Behold the woes of matrimonial life,
And hear with reverence an experienc'd wife;

Not every man's oblig'd to sell his store,
And give up all his substance to the poor;
Such as are perfect may I can't deny ;
But by your leaves, divines, so am not i.

THE LAUGHING PHILOSOPHER.

Full many a saint since first the world began,
Liv'd an unspotted maid in spite of man
Let such (a God's name) with fine wheat be fed,
And let us honest wives eat barley-bread.
For me I'll keep the post assign'd by heav'n,
And use the copious talent it has giv'n:
Let my good spouse pay tribute, do me right,
And keep an equal reckoning every night;
His proper body is not his, but mine;
For so said Paul, and Paul's a sound divine.
Know then of those five husbands I have had,
Three were just tolerable, two were bad.
The three were old, but rich, and fond beside,
And toil'd most piteously to please their bride;
But since their wealth (the best they had) was
mine,

The rest without much loss I could resign;
Sure to be lov'd, I took no pains to please,
Yet had more pleasure far than they had ease.
Presents flow'd in apase, with showers of gold
They made their court, like Jupiter of old;
If I but smil'd a sudden youth they found,
And a new palsy seiz'd them when I frown'd.
Ye sovereign wives! give ear, and undertand,
Thus shall ye speak, and exercise command;
For never was it given to mortal man
To lie so boldly as we women can;
Forswear the fact, though seen with both his eyes,
And call your maids to witness how he lies,
"Hark, old Sir Paul! ('twas thus I us'd to say)
Whence is our neighbour's wife so rich and gay?
Treated, caress'd where'er she's pleas'd to roam-
I sit in tatters, and immur'd at home.
Why to her house dost thou so oft repair?
Art thou so amorous? and is she so fair?
If I but see a cousin or a friend,

Lord! how you swell and rage like any fiend!
But you reel home, a drunken beastly bear,
Then preach till midnight in your easy chair;
Cry wives are false, and every woman evil,
And give up all that's female to the devil.
"If poor (you say,) she drains her husband's

purse;

If rich, she keeps her priest, or something worse;

If highly born, intolerably vain,
Vapours and pride by turns possess her brains
Now gaily mad, now sourly splenetic,
Freakish when well, and fretful when she's sick:
If fair, then chaste she cannot long abide,
By pressing youth attack'd on every side;
If foul, her wealth the lusty lover lures,
Or else her wit some fool-gallant procures,
Or else she dances with becoming grace,
Or shape excuses the defects of face.
There swims no goose so gray, but soon or late,
She finds some honest gander for her måte.

"Horses (thou say'st) and asses men may try,
But wives, a random choice, they still must take;
And ring suspected vessels ere they buy;
They dream in courtship, but in wedlock wake;
Then, nor till then, the veil's remov'd away.
And all the woman glares in open day.

"You tell me, to preserve your wife's good
grace,

Your eyes must always languish on my face.
Your tongue with constant flatteries feed my ear,
If by strange chance a modest blush be rais'd,
And tag each sentence with “My life! my dear!"
Be sure my fine complexion must be prais'd.
My garments always must be new and gay,
Then must my nurse be pleas'd, and favourite maid;
And feasts still kept upon my wedding-day;
To a long train of kindred, friends, allies:
And endless treats and endless visits paid
All this thou say'st, and all thou say'st are lies.

"On Jenkins, too, you cast a squinting eye:
What can your 'prentice raise your jealousy?
Fresh are his ruddy cheeks, his forehead fair,
And like the burnish'd gold his curling hair;
But clear thy wrinkled brow, and quit thy sorrow
I'd scorn your 'prentice should you die to-morrow,
Why are thy chests all lock'd? on what
design?

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Are not thy worldly goods aud treasures mine?
Have goods and body to yourself alone.
Sir, I'm no fool, nor shall you, by St. John,
One you shall quit in spite of both your eyes-
'I heed not, I, the bolts, the locks, the spies.