a one as we may well suppose a person with his views | slave thus; deem it not possible, that he who eats would be glad to find.-She was tolerably handsome; happiness, and drinks immortal life, from the light of not more than three-and twenty; with a good for your eyes, can ever demur the thousandth part of a tune; and what was the best part of the story, this semi-second to execute your omnipotent behests! fortune was entirely at her own disposal. Speak! say! what, empress of my parched entrails, what must I perform?" Our Captain, who thought now or never was the time, having first found means to introduce himself as a suitor, was incessant in his endeavours to carry his cause. His tongue was eternally running in praise of her super-superlative, never-to-be described charms; and in hyperbolical accounts of the flames, darts, and daggers, by which his lungs, liver, and midriff, were burnt up, transfixed, and gnawn away. He who, in writing a song to his sweetheart, described his heart to be without one drop of gravy, like an over-done mutton-chop, was a fool at a simile, when compared to our hero! Nay, for that matter, it is a mere trifle!-Only to cut off your whiskers, Captain; that's all." "Madam! [Be so kind, reader, as to imagine the Captain's utter astonishment.]-"My whiskers! Cut off my whiskers -Excuse me! Cut off my whiskers!-Pardon me, Madam.-Any thing else-any thing that mind can or cannot imagine, or tongue describe. Bid me fetch you Prester John's beard, a hair at a time, and it's done. But, for my whiskers! you must grant me a salvo there!" "And why so, good Captain ?-Surely any gentleOne day as he was ranting, kneeling, and beseech-man who had but the tithe of the passion you exing his goddess to send him of an errand to pluck press, would not stand on such a trifle !" the diamond from the nose of the great mogul, and present it to her divinityship; or suffer him to step and steal the empress of China's enchanted slipper, or the queen of Sheba's cockatoo ; as a small testimony of what he would undertake to prove his love! she, after a little hesitation addressed him thus : "The protestations which you daily make, Captain, as well as what you say at present, convince me that there is nothing you would not do to oblige me: I, therefore, do not find much difficulty in telling you that I am willing to be yours, if you will perform one thing which I shall request of you." "Tell me, immaculate angel!" cried our son of gunpowder; "tell me what it is! Though, before you speak, be certain it is already done. Is it to find the seal of Solomon? to catch the phoenix? or draw your chariot to church with unicorns? What is the impossible act that I will not undertake?" "A trifle, Madam!-My whiskers a trifle !-No, Madam, no!-My whiskers are no trifle. Had I but a single regiment of fellows whiskered like me, I myself would be the Grand Turk of Constantinople. -My whiskers, Madam, are the last thing I should have supposed you would have wished me to sacrifice. There is not a woman, married or single,-maid, wife, or widow-that does not admire my whiskers!" May be so, sir; but if you marry me, you must cut them offi"; "And is there no other way? Must I never hope to be happy with you, unless I part with my whiskers?" "Never!" Why then, Madam, farewell. I would not part with a single hair of my whiskers, if Catherine, the czarina, empress of all the Russias, would make me king of the Calmucs; and so, good morning to "No, Captain," replied the fair one, "I shall en-you!" join nothing impossible. The thing I desire, you can do with the utmost ease; it will not cost you five minutes trouble and yet, were it not for your so positive assurances, from what 1 have observed, I should almost doubt of your compliance." "Ah, Madam!" returned he, " wrong not your Had all young ladies, in like circumstances, equal penetration, they might generally rid themselves, with equal ease, of the interested and unprincipled coxcombs by whom they are pestered; they all have their whiskers: and seek for fortunes, to be able to cultivate, not cut them off. The lie goes round, and the ball's never still. A few days after the blowing up of the powder "Your plea is good, my friend, don't starve the mills at Hounslow, Foote was in a company where cause :" But when my lord decrees for t'other side, case; "Your fever's slight, not dangerous, 1 assure you; Keep warm, and repetatur haustus, sir, will cure you." Around the bed next day his friends are crying; Gives out, his play has humour, taste, and wit. As for my part, the best could ne'er deceive me ; me: Their sight is odious, but their touch-O gad! the accident became the subject of discussion Many extraordinary stories were related of the effects produced by the explosion; and among others, an ensign of the guards declared that as he was sitting in and himself were thrown out of the dressing room into his apartments, having his hair dressed, his servant the bed room, where they broke a large mirror to pieces. The company smiled at the story as somewhat incredible; when Foote observed, "he was not at all surprised at the circumstance, as he himselt was forced forty feet from the place where he sat at breakfast, by the shock he received, and lighted in the midst of a whole assortment of china, which he broke to pieces." "Aye," exclaimed the ensign, "that was more extraordinary-wonderful indeed." Not at all," replied the wit, "for on finding the house shake, I became so greatly alarmed, that in three strides I made into the street, and that you know is full forty feet and more; and running up to an old woman, who was passing with a basket of china on her head, to inquire what was the matter, such was my hurry and trepidation--yes, gentlemen, such was my hurry and trepidation, that I overset the woman, overset the basket, and broke all the china." THE JEW'S EXPOSTULATION. Signior Antonio, many a time and oft, In the Rialto you have rated me About my monies, and my usances: A cur can lend three thousand ducats? or Fair sir, you spit on me on Wednesday last; You spurn'd me such a day; another time You call'd me-dog; and for these courtesies I'll lend you thus much monies. INSPIRATION OF PUNCH. Curran attributes the first impulse of his genius to the inspiration of punch. His first effort to speak in public, was at a debating society; where he failed so completely, that his friend Mr. Apjohn advised him not to aspire higher than a chamber counsel, as nature never intended him for an orator. His own account is thus: 66 ་ Apjohn dined with me that day; and when the leg of mutton, or rather the bone, was removed, we offered up the libation of an additional glass of punch. In the evening, we repaired to the Devil.' One of them was upon his legs; a highly gifted gentleman, with dirty cravat, and greasy pantaloons. I found this learned personage calumniating craniology, by the most preposterous anachronisms; and traducing the illustrious dead. He descanted upon Demosthenes, the glory of the Roman forum; spoke of Tully as the famous contemporary and rival of Cicero; and in the short space of one half hour, transported the plains of Marathon three several times to the straits of Thermopyla. Thinking that I had a right to know something of these matters, I looked at him with surprise; and whether it was my classical rivalry, or, the supplemental tumbler of punch, that gave my face a smirk of saucy confidence, when our eyes met, the erudite gentleman changed his invective against antiquity, into an invective against me, and conclude ed by a few words of friendly counsel to 'Orator Mum,' who, he doubted not, possessed wonderful talents for eloquence, although he would recommend him to show it in future by some more popular method than silence. I followed his advice, and I believe not entirely without effect; for, when, upon sitting down, I whispered my friend, that I hoped he did not think my dirty antagonist had come quite clear off. "On the contrary, my dear fellow," said he, every one around me is declaring, that it is the first time they ever saw him so well dressed." TO MR. " ON RECEIVING A BLANK LETTER I pardon, sir, the trick you've play'd me, PREACHING AND SPELLING. Of six and thirty persons, (sectarians,) who obtained licenses to preach, at one session of the Middlesex magistrates, six spelled "ministers of the gospel" in six different ways, and seven signed their mark thus x, (i. c. their cress.) One fellow, who applied for a license, being asked if he could read, replied, "Mother reads, and I 'spounds and 'splains." TO A GENTLEMAN WHO COMPLAINED OF HAVING LOST HIS GOLD WATCH. Fret not, my friend, or peevish say Your fate is worse than common; THE HUMOROUS MAN. occasions. I found him once bowing on the stairs to a poor alarmed devil of a rat, who was cringing up You shall know the man of humour by the vivacity in a corner; he was politely offering him the retreat of his eyes, the "morn-elastic" tread of his foot, honourable, with an "After you sir, if you would the lightness of his brow, and the dawning smile of honour me." I settled the point of etiquette, by pleasantry in his countenance. He is a man who kicking the rat down stairs, and received a frown cares for nothing so much as a "mirth-moving jest ;" from my humane friend, for my impatient inhumanity. give him that, and he has " food and raiment." He His opinions of men and things have some spice of will not see what men have to cark and care for, be- singularity in them. He conceives it to be a kind of yond to-day; he is for to-morrow's providing for puppyism in pigs that they wear tails-He defines himself. He is for a new reading of Ben Jonson's a great coat to be "a Spencer, folio edition, with old play of "Every Man in his Humour," he would tail-pieces." He calls Hercules a man-midwife, in have it" Every Man in Humour.” He leaves money a small way of business; because he had but twelve and misery, to misers; ambition and blood, to great labours. He can tell you why Horace ran away from warriors and low highwaymen; fame, to court-lau- the battle of Philippi: it was to prove to the Rereates and lord mayors; honours, to court-panders and mans that he was not a lame poet. He describes city knights; the dread of death, to such as are not your critics to be a species of door-porters to the worthy of life; the dread of heaven, to those who temple of fame, and says it is their business to see are not good enough even for earth; the grave, to that no persons slip in with holes in their stockings, the parish-clerk and undertakers; tombs, to proud or paste buckles for diamond ones; not that they worms; and palaces to paupers. It is enough for always perform this duty honestly. He calls the sun him if he may laugh the " hours away;" and break" the yellow hair'd laddie," the prince of darkness, a jest, where tempers more humorous break a head." the Black Prince;" or, when he displeases his He would not barter with you one wakeful jest for sense of virtue, "Monsieur De Vil." He will ask a hundred sleepy sermons; or one laugh for a thou- you, "What is the distinctive difference between a sand sighs. If he could allow himself to sigh about sigh-heaver and a coal heaver ?" You cannot divine; any thing, it would be that he had been serious when he tells you," a coal-heaver has a load at his back, he might have laughed; if he could weep for any which he can carry; a sigh-heaver has one at his thing, it would be for mankind, because they will heart, wifich he can not carry." not laugh more and mourn less. Yet he hath tears If he quotes a proverb at all, it is "with a diffor the pitiable, the afflicted, the orphan, and the ference;" such as " Cobbler, stick to your war,"— unhappy; but his tears die where they are born, a thing more practicable than sticking to his last, as in his heart; he makes no show of them; like April the old proverb adviseth. He will say, "What is showers, they refresh where they fall, and turn to bred in the bone will not come out with the skewer," smiles, as all tears will, that are not selfish. His-which, to those Epicurean persons who have the grief has a humanity in it, which is not satisfied with tears only; it teaches him magpie propensity of prying into marrow-bones, must simplify the proverb to their fatheaded comprehensions. Some one used that very trite old proverb in his hearing, of necessity having no laws upon which, wilfully misunderstanding it, he remarked, "I am very sorry for it; it is surely a pity, considering the number of "the learned clerks" she might give employ to, if she had. Her chancellor would have no sinecure of it, I trow; hearing the petitions of her poor, broken-fortuned, and bankrupt subjects, | tlemanly income of oaths, and then have sworn by would take up all his terms, though every term were a year, and every year a term." He is a polite man, though a wit; which is not what wits usually are; they would rather lose a life than a joke. I have heard him express his detestation of those wits who sport with venomed weapons, and wish them the fate of Laertes, who, in his encounter with Hamlet, got his weapon changed, and was himself wounded with the poisoned foil he had designed for his antagonist. I mean by saying he is a polite man, that he is naturally, not artificially, polite; for the one is but a handsome, frank-looking mask, under which you conceal the contempt you feel for the person you seem mest diligent to please; it is a gilt-edged envelope to a blank valentine; a shell without a nut; a courtesan in a fair Quaker's chaste satinity and smooth sleekness; the arch devil in a domino-the other is, as he describes it, taking the hat and cloak of your heart off, and standing uncovered and unconcealed in the presence of worth, beauty, or any one amiable quality. private subscription; an absent man, had he been present, would perhaps have thrown his young son and heir, or his gold watch and seals, at her; another, perhaps, his wig ;-he contented himself with saying, I have two or three doubts, (which I shall put forth as much in the shape of a half-crown pamphlet as possible,) as to the propriety of your conduct in eating my mutton;" and then he brushed her off with his handkerchief, supped on half a French roll and a gooseberry, and went happy to bed. Some of his jokes have a practicality about them; but they neither have the quarter-staff jocoseness of Robin Hood, that brake heads let them be never so obtuse and profound; nor the striking effect of that flourishing sprig of the Green Isle, that knocks down friend and foe with a partiality truly impartial. He is no respecter of persons: the beggar may have a joke of him, (and something better,) though they do not happen to apply exactly "between the hours of eleven and four." Those handmaids of Pomona, who vend their fruits about the streets. seem, by their voices, to be legitimate daughters of old Stentor; more especially shall I specify those damsels who sell walnuts. To one of these our humorist once addressed himself " to the effect following :""Pray, Mrs. Jones, will you crack me fifty walnuts with the same voice you cry them with?" In short, he is a humane man; and humanity is your only true politeness. I have seen him ridicule that politeness which contents itself with bowing and back-bending, very humorously. In walking through his garden, a tree or tail flower, touched by the passing wind, bowed its head towards him; his hat was off, and the bow was returned with an old-school At dinner there is purposely but one glass on the ceremoniousness and etiquette that would, perhaps, table; his lady apologizes for her seeming negligence; have cured Lord Chesterfield, that fine polisher of" Time, my dear, hath no more than one glass; exteriors, of some of his hollow-nutted notions of manners. In this spirit, I saw him bow very profoundly to the giants, as he passed by St. Dunstan's church. He had asked his friend Hobbes or Dobbs (I know not which) what was the hour? Before Hobbes could reply, the giants had informed him. "Thank you, gentlemen," said he, bowing to them with a graceful humour. I have said he is a humane man. He once detected an unintimate cat picking his cold mutton, " on a day, alack the day!" for he was then too poor to spare it well. Some men would have thrown a poker at her; others would have squandered away a gen and yet he contrives to see all his guests under the table-kings, lord-mayors, and pot-boys." If he lends you a book, for the humour of the thing, he will request you, as you love clean shoes on a lord-mayor's day, to make no thumb-and butter references in the margin; and will, moreover, ask you whether you have studied that modern" art of book-keeping," which has superseded the "Italian method," viz. of never returning the books you borrow? He has a very ingenious mode of putting names and significations on what he calls the brain-rack, and dislocating their joints into words: thus tortured |