A figure painted bold and rude;

A desert where wild beasts intrude;
A road thro' coarse uneven ground;
A voyage where rocks and shoals abound;
Au arrow's path; the morning's dawn;
A shadow from a dial thrown;
The narrow bounds of haughty pride;
To death, to worms, to dust allied;
Corruption's child and future prey;
Crush'd by the moth; what shall I say?
A falling star; a transient flower;
A passing cloud; an autumn shower;
A flying shuttle! nay, a span;

So short and frail the Life of Man.

LINES

ON A SCULL BROUGHT FROM THE FIELD OF WATERLOO, AND PLACED IN A HER

MITAGE IN WALES.

la this lone spot, oh, Friend or Stranger! Start not this human wreck to view,

Brought from the field of strife and danger— Th' immortal field of Waterloo.

Whatever fierce contending nation
Birth to its silent owner gave,
Is now of no consideration;-
We all are equal in the grave.

Mechanic toil, and proud ambition,
Submit alike to fate's decree;

At length are brought to this condition,
And what this is, thine soon must be.

Whether in fight to perish greatly
In fields of glory be thy lot,
Or in a palace rich and stately,

Or stretch'd on straw-it matters not;

For, spite of every false suggestion,
Of wealth, or vanity, or pride,
Alas! the solemn dreadful question

Is, how we liv'd?-not where we died.

ON THE WATERLOO WALTZ.

A moment pause, ye British fair,
While pleasure's phantom ye pursue;
And say, if sprightly dance or air
Suit with the name of Waterloo.
Awful was the victory,
Chasten'd should the triumph be;
'Midst the laurels she has won,
Britain mourns for many a son.

Vail'd in clouds the morning rose,
Nature seem'd to mourn the day,

Which consign'd, before it's close,
Thousands to their kindred clay.
How unfit for courtly ball,
Or the giddy festival,
Was the grim and ghastly view,
Ere evening clos'd on Waterloo.
See the Highland warrior rushing,
Firm in danger, on the foe,
Till the life blood, warmly gushing,
Lays the plaided hero low.

His native pipes accustom'd sound
'Mid war's infernal concert drown'd,
Cannot sooth his last adieu,

Or wake his sleep on Waterloo.

Chasing o'er the cuirassier,

See the foaming charger flying; Trampling in his wild career, All alike, the dead and dying. See the bullets through his side, Answer'd by the spouting tide; Helmet, horse, and rider too, Roll on bloody Waterloo.

Shall scenes like these, the dance inspire,
Or wake the enliv'ning notes of mirth:
O! shiver'd be the recreant lyre
That gave the base idea birth.

Other sounds I ween were there,
Other music rent the air,
Other waltz the warriors knew,
When they clos'd on Waterloo.

Forbear till Time, with lenient hand,

Has sooth'd the pang of recent sorrow; And let the picture distant stand, The softening hue of years to borrow, When our time has pass'd away, Hands unborn may wake the lay, And give to joy alone the view Of Britain's fame at Waterloo,

DESCRIPTION OF AN ASSIZE TOWN.
A pompous Sheriff, dress'd exceeding fine,
With awkward javelin-men, in double line;
Two Judges eager for the hour to dine;
A swaggering Captain, with a blust'ring look
Resembling Exon's noted, quoted-COOK;
A group of Counsel whom one always sees
With spruce tie-wigs, and bands, sans briefs,
sans fees:

Attornies anxious to create dispute,
And ever wishing for a Chancery-suit;
Raw country girls, not much averse to please
Those lucky Counsel, who have touch'd some fees;

Juries who find for plaintiff or defendant,

Just as their stomachs feel, to make an end on't; The town all uproar, riot, noise, and pother, And drunken witnesses one upon t'other.

THE PROCESSION OF THE MONTHS.

(Concluded from page 80.)

With sunny locks and eyes of azure hue, JUNE--a young wood-nymph, walk'd with pleasing air,

The hyacinth's sweet bells impearl'd with dew, Which by the forests' brook's wild margin grew, And eglantine's soft tinted roses fair,

In graceful wreaths were o'er her forehead bound;

A leafy girdle clasp'd her form around,

Of woodbine tendrils, with their blossoms rare; Sweet were the wild notes of her varied song, Echoing at eve and morn the greenwood dells among.

Short was her stay, for Summer's stately queen,
Majestic JULY, follow'd in her car

Of burnish'd light, which with its dazzling sheen
Embrown'd the meads, and with a darker green
Color'd the woods-in forest glades afar
Screen'd from the powerful lustre of her eyes,
In countless tribes the flowery nations rise,
Where no rude foot their beauteous forms may

mar,

And with rich fragrance load the zephyr's wings, Who woos the precious gift with gentle whis

perings.

Like a brown chieftain of those fair domains
Where Xaraqueta rolls its waters bright,
The double wealth of Mechoacan's* plains,
O'er golden sands-through realms where plenty
reigns,

Came AUGUST, all in rich apparel dight,

The damask rose, with glowing leaves full

spread,

And clustering grapes engarlanded his head;
His silken robe, which bore the hue of light,
With gems of rainbow tints was studded o'er,
The glittering scythe and rake triumphantly he
bore.

Then did the reaper; blythe SEPTEMBER,

come,

The last ripe sheaves on his broad shoulders bore,
And joyful shouted for the harvest-home,
Pointing, exulting, at the well-fill'd dome;
A basket laden with the orchard's store
Mung on his arm-what tempting choice was
there-

The bounteous almoner wav'd high in air
(While the delicious fruits were flowing o'er)
His sickle-wreath'd with many a golden ear,
Inviting all to taste dame Nature's varied cheer.
With step sedate and meditative eye,
Like the sad vestal, doom'd to bid adieu
To all her heart holds dear beneath the sky,
OCTOBER trod the plain; around her view
Were fading vallies and the changing grove;
Wreaths of the yellow foliage pale she wore,
And rain-drench'd flow'rets wan, of sickly hue,
And as she bound them on her drooping head,
Mourn'd that the glories of the year so speedily
were fled.

Slow walk'd NOVEMBER o'er the leaf-strewn waste,

Her own sad thoughts alone could her engage,
Like one whose hours of hope for aye were past,
She seem'd a silent mourner, verging fast
To all the joyless solitude of age;

One who had buried all the joys of life,
A childless mother, and a widow'd wife,
Wandering alone a weary pilgrimage-
Deep were her sighs-her tears did ever flow-
It chill'd even the young buoyant heart to see
such mighty woe.

In helmet huge of snow, o'er which pale gleam'd
The Borealis' lights, and waving wild

A pine's dark taft-DECEMBER, frowning, seem'd

A conqueror in barbaric pomp, who deem'd
He had for ever from the earth exil'd
All pleasant things-and on each ravag'd plain
Call'd to rude gambols all his boist'rous train,
Then sternly at their savage revels smil'd;
He lov'd in the dark curtains of the storm
And thickest shades of night to veil his dusky
form:

And let him come, and wear his darkest frown,
Stern chieftain of a desolating train!
Let him from her imperial seat cast down
Beauty-fair Nature's child, and on her throne
Bid a dark phantom, nurs'd by tempests, reign!
He cannot every charm of life destroy-
His chilling breath nips not each bud of joy;
Sweet social intercourse shall still remain.
To you whose smiles as summer months are dear,
And still unchang'd through all the chequer'd year,
Friend of my muse-to you I dedicate this strain.
1. L.'

A Province of Mexico.

Printed and Published for the Proprietors, by J. WHITE, 41, Holywell-street, Strand, and may be had of all Booksellers.

VOL. I. No. 7.]

Anecdotes.

LORD THURLOW-Mr. Potter, the translator of Eschylus, on receiving notice of the favour intended for him (a Prebendal Stall, in Norwich Cathedral) immediately came to town, to make personal acknowledgements of his gratitude. He called several times at Thurlow's house, but never could gain admission: at length he applied to his friend and neighbour, Sir John, afterwards Lord Wodehouse, and begged of him to see the Chancellor in the House of Peers, and ask when he might have the honour of waiting upon his lordship, as he had been some days in town. Sir John accordingly did this, when the only answer he received was, "Let him go home again, I want none of his Norfolk bows."

HORACE WALPOLE-A gentleman of no small literary distinction, who had a sort of general invitation to his villa, was induced by a fine summer morning to pay his respects to Lord Orford. On arriving he was kindly greeted, and invited to take dinner. The invitation was accepted, and the Noble Lord, ringing his bell, on the appearance of a Swiss valet, inquired what was provided for his repast." Hashed “mutton, my lord," was the reply. "Let there be hashed mutton for two, as Mr. *** is to dine with me." In a very short time the Swiss returned with a long face"My Lord, there is only hashed mutton for one." The visitor made his apologies, engaged to come again at a more favourable opportunity, and left Twickenham impransus.-N. B. His Lordship's servants were always on board wages.-(Sexagenarian.)

GIBBON.-Soon after this celebrated historian became an inhabitant of Lausanne, a lady of beauty and talents made such an impression upon his heart, that he could not resist the impulse of love, but, falling on his knees, avowed the passion her charms had inspired. The object of his affection, in spite of the historian's eloquence, was deaf to his entreaties, and requested him to rise. He attempted to obey this injunction, but in vain; for his weighty person, unaccustomed to such a position, was not easily restored to its proper balance. The lady, fearing that some one might detect her admirer in this awkward situation, forgot her anger, and endeavoured to lift him rom the ground. Her strength, however,

[PRICE 6d.

was unequal to the task, and after various ineffectual struggles, both by Gibbon and the lady, the latter was obliged to ring the bell, and order her astonished servant to raise the prostrate scholar.

WILKES'S SISTER.-This lady, who, by a second marriage, became Mrs. Hayley, was of such an obstinate temper, that on the death of her husband, who bequeathed a handsome fortune to an only daughter, she was so reluctant to perform the stipulations of his will, that the most harsh and rigorous proceedings were unavoidably necessary, and she was arrested on a Saturday night, returning from the play, when she had thousands at her disposal, and detained in a spunging house till Monday morning.

WHIMSICAL EXPEDIENT.-Dr. Johnson and Sir Joshua Reynolds were one evening together at the house of a female fashionable acquaintance, when the Duchess of Argyle and another lady came in. Johnson thought himself and Reynolds were neglected for these new visitors, as low company, of whom their hostess was somewhat ashamed. He grew angry, and resolved to shock her supposed pride, by making the great folks imagine that his companion and himself were common mechanics. He addressed himself, therefore, in a loud tone to Reynolds, with "How much do you think you and I could get in a week, work as hard as we could?"It is needless to describe the consternation of

his polished entertainer.

IMPUDENCE.-Le Grand Pitrot, well known throughout Europe for his excellence as a dancer, when on the point of departing from Vienna, received from the Emperor a gold suuff-box, containing his picture, set around with brilliants. Pitrot was under the hands of his hair-dresser when a colonel, belonging to the imperial guards, delivered this present.-Pitrot took it in a careless manner, looked at it, and, pressing his thumb upon the crystal, crushed the picture; he then gave the box to his hair-dresser, and bade the officer acquaint his master, that that was the way in which he always disposed of baubles, sent him by men he did not think worthy of his friendship; then stepped into his carriage, and just got out of the Austrian dominions time enough to escape a party of hussars that had been sent in pursuit of him.

Blunders.

ABSENCE OF MIND.-A merchant who had to sign the baptismal register of one of his children, wrote "Peter Coule and Company," without perceiving his error till aroused to it by the laughter of his friends. IGNORANCE.-A wretched fellow maintained in company, that the sun did not travel round the world, but that having journeyed from east to west, it returned at night the same way.

RIDICULOUS CUSTOM.-A citizen, meeting with one of his titled customers, who

asked how he did, replied "Very well, thank God and your Lordship." The same nobleman then asked how many children he had, to whieh he answered, with a profound bow, "I have four, thank God and your Lordship."

CURIOUS BULL.-In Montague's history of England, the author, alluding to Queen Elizabeth's projected marriage with the Duke of Anjou, observes, that "She was to hear the discontents, the reproaches, perhaps the curses of her people, who, from this match, dreaded to see the fair plant of their religion, reared by the toils of Princes, and watered with the blood of so many martyrs, totally destroyed." VOL. 2, p. 49.

PRICE OF MILK.---During the dry weather, an Irish milkman was asked why the price of that article was so high ? "By my soul, madam," said Pat to his customer, "I believe it is altogether owing to the scarcity of water!"

POLITICAL ZEAL.--In the last number of the Conservateur, M. Fievee speaks of the Royalists again sacrificing their lives, and then proceeding to aid the Royal cause, &c. A Parisian Journalist compares this expression to one used by an Ultra Republican, in 1793, who roared out from the Tribune of the National Convention--"Yes, Citizens, should the Tyrants be enabled to triumph over the Republic, I will cut off my head, and presenting it to them, I will say---Tyrants, behold the act of a Freeman."

Bon Mots.

ROYAL SKAITER.-When all the French court were skaiting upon the Seine, which was frozen over, Henry IV. wished to join them, but was restrained by the Marshal de Bassompierre. "The others are akaiting," said the king. "Yes, Sire," replied the courtier, "but is not your Majesty of more weight than all of them put together?"

"I

INGENIOUS REPLY.-A private in the army of Marshal Turenne, took the name of that illustrious officer, who reprimanded him for his audacity: "How am I to blame, general?" said the soldier. have the choice of names, and had I known of one more distinguished than yours, I should have taken it." For this answer he was liberally rewarded.

SEAT OF FAITH.-A catholic once observed to a protestant, that Rome was the seat of faith. "That is true," replied the latter, "but it is a faith which resembles certain people, whom one rarely finds at

home."

THE RETORT.-Two girls of fashion entered an assembly-room, at Paris, just as a fat citizen's wife was quitting it. "Ah," said one of them, in an audable voice, "there's beef a la mode going out " Yes," answered the object of theit ridicule, "and game going in."

COMPLIMENT.-Menage, the French author, having taken one of Madame Sevigne's hands within his, when that lady retired, a "There goes the by-stander observed, finest work that ever come out of your hands."

COQUETRY.-Some coquettes, very gaily dressed, and highly rouged, being at an assembly, asked a foreigner, who had been but a short time in the room, how he liked their Parisian beauties. 66 Ladies," said he, "I am no judge of painting."

Epigrams.

ADVICE TO A CYNIC.

[FROM THE FRENCH.]

You say, whene'er abroad you roam,
You meet with none but fools and asses;
Would you avoid them, keep at home,
But, hark ye---break your looking-
glasses.

ON ADAM SMITH.*

Immortal SMITH's transcendent fame Entitles him to ADAM's name, For that great writer's useful pen Has stamped him as the first of Men. Portman Square. F. W. *Author of the "Wealth of Nations."

ON LOUIS THE SEVENTEENTH, Who was apprenticed to a Cobler.

BY PETER PINDAR.

I give thee joy, thou lucky blade,
That France has put thee to a trade;
It was a happy thought:
Now thou wilt good for something be,
For had you been a King, d'ye see,
Thou had'st been good for nought.

BAD TO WORSE.

The Epigram his pupil writ,
A pedant old survey'd,

And as his wisdom thought most fit,
His stick across him laid.

The student felt his noddle bleed,

And mumbled with a curse,

My Epigram is bad, indeed,

But your across-stick's worse.

ON THE ROYAL MARRIAGE ACT.

Quoth Dick to Tom, "this act appears "Absurd, as I'm alive;

"To take the crown at eighteen years, "The wife at twenty-five.

"The myst'ry how shall we explain,
"For sure, as Dowdeswell said;
"Thus early if they'ro fit to reign,
"They must be fit to wed."

Quoth Tom to Dick---"Thou art a fool,

"And little know'st of life;

"Alas! 'tis easier far to rule

"A kingdom, than a wife.”

Elegy.

ON A QUID OF TOBACCO.

Ir lay before me, on the close-graz'd grass, Beside my path-an old Tobacco Quid: And shall I by the mute adviser pass,

Without one serious thought? now, Heav'n forbid !

Perhaps, some idle drunkard threw thee there;

Some husband, Spendthrift of his weekly

hire:

One who for wife and children takes no care; Buts sits, and tipples by the alehouse fire. Ah! luckless was the day, he learned to chew, Embryo of ills, the Quid that pleas'd him first!

Thirsty, from that unhappy Quid he grew, Then to the alehouse went, to quench his

thirst.

So great events from causes small arise:
The forest oak was once an acorn seed;
And many a wretch, from drunkenness who
dies,

Owes all his evils to the Indian weed.
Let not temptation mortal c'er come nigh;
Suspect some ambush in the parsley hid,
From the first kiss of love, ye maidens fly!
Ye youths avoid the first Tobacco Quid!
Perhaps I wrong thee, O thou vet'ran chaw,
And better thoughts my musings should en-

gage;

That thou wast rounded in some toothless jaw;

The joy, perhaps, of solitary age! One, who has suffered Fortune's hardest knocks;

Poor, and with none to tend on his grey hairs;

Yet has a friend, in his Tobacco-Box;

And while he rolls his Quid, forgots his cares!

E'en so it is with human happiness;

Each secks his own according to his whim; One toils for wealth; one, fame alone can bless;

One asks a Quid-a Quid is all to him!