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TO WOMAN.

I love thee, Woman! yes, indeed,
I love thee when thou art kind;
But oh how tenderly I love,

When virtue forms thy mind!
For I have felt life's thorny woe,
And I have shar'd its charms;
Yet still the sweetest bliss I found,
Was, Woman, in thy arms.
Beside the bed I've seen her sit,
And brave infection's rage,
And with her soul-subduing care
The suff'rer's pain assuage;

And I have seen, when Fortune frown'd,
Of worldly cares opprest,
Her smile appease the troubled soul,
And set the heart at rest.

Yet some will say that Woman's frail,
And that men often rue

The day, when they unite themselves
To what is so untrue;

But I have heard a poet sing,
And I believe it all-
"Domestic love's the only bliss
"That has surviv'd the fall."

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To gaze on thy maternal face,
To hear thy gentle chiding,
To hide reproof in love's embrace,
In thy soft heart confiding.

But 'ere to-morrow's sun can shine, Relentless death shall take thee; And all the grace so lately thine, Shall silently forsake thee.

But nothing lovelier will remain,
To cheer our drooping sight,
Which must not hope to meet again,
So warm and pure a sight.

And there is one impassioned heart,
That shall thy loss deplore;
That shall not see thy life depart,

That ne'er shall see thee more!

But he shall not for ever grieve,

Sorrow shall not possess him; The buds of the rose shall bring relief, Their smiling eyes shall bless him.

And all the love he bore to the rose,

To her innocent buds shall be given; Could spirits of bliss their wish disclose, He'd receive the command from heaven. M. R. S.

THE VANITY OF WEALTH.
No more thus brooding o'er yon heap,
With Avarice painful vigils keep;
Still unenjoy'd the present store,
Still endless sighs are breath'd for more.
O quit the shadow, catch the prize,
Which not all India's treasure buys!
To purchase Heaven, has gold the pow'r?
Can gold remove the mortal hour?
In life, can love be bought with gold?
Are friendship's pleasures to be sold?
No-all that's worth a wish, a thought,
Fair virtue gives unbrib'd, unbought.
Cease then on trash thy hopes to bind,
Let nobler views engage thy mind.
With science tread the wondrous way,
Or learn the Muse's moral lay;
In social hours indulge thy soul,

Where mirth and temperance mix the bowl;
To virtuous love resign thy breast,
And be, by blessing beauty, blest.

Thus taste the feast by nature spread,
Ere youth and all its joys are fled;
Come taste with me the balm of life,
Secure from pomp, and wealth, and strife.
I boast whate'er for man was meant,
In health, and Stella, and content;
And scorn (0 let that scorn be thine!)
Mere things of clay that dig the mine

London:-Printed by 6. Larrance, Borset Street, Salisbury Square; And Published by the Proprietor at No. 8, Raquet Court, Fleet Street, where all Conmunications are requested to be addressed, and where the Editor's Letter-box will be found.---It may also be had at 42, Holywell Street; of SHERWOOD, NEELY, AND JONES, Paternoster Row; SIMPKIN & MARSHALL, Stationer's Court; and of all other Booksellers.

THE

TICKLER MAGAZINE.

No. 9. VOL. III.]

LONDON, SEPTEMBER 1, 1821.

Anecdotes.

COWPER THE POET.--This amiable and highly gifted man, (with other inmates), kept three hares, whom he named Puss, Tiney, and Bess. Puss soon grew familiar, would leap into his protector's lap, raise himself upon his hinder feet, and bite the hair from his temples. He would suffer himself to be taken up by his Master, carried about, and more than once fell fast asleep in his arms. He was once ill for three days. During which time his protector carefully nursed him. "No creature" (says Cowper). "could be more grateful than my patient after his recovery; a sentiment which he most significantly expressed by licking my band; first the back of it, then the palm, then every finger separately, then between all the fingers, as if anxious to leave no part of it unsaluted-a ceremony which he never performed but once upon a similar occasion. He would invite me to the garden by drumming upon my knee, and by a look of such expression as it was not possible to misinterpret. If this rhetoric did not immediately succeed, he would take the skirt of my coat between his teeth, and pull at it with all his force." Tiney was of a reserved and stern character, upon whom kind treatment had not the least effect:-Bess too differed from both the others, being confident and lively. "I describe these animals (says Cowper) as having each a character of his own; and their countenances were so expressive of that character, that when I look'd only on the face of either, I immediately knew which it was. These creatures have a singular sagacity in discovering the minutest alteration that is made in the place to which they are ac

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customed, and instantly apply their nose to the examination of a new object. They seem to be very much directed by the smell in the choice of their favourites: to some persons, though they saw them daily, they could never be reconciled, and would even scream when they attempted to touch them; but a miller coming in engaged their affections at once: his powdered coat had charms that were irresistible."-Mr. Cowper was of opinion that hares do not graze, but only eat grass medicinally. Sow-thistle, dandelion, and lettuce, are their favourite vegetables, especially lettuce. Fine white sand is in great estimation with them-supposed as a digestive: they devour it voraciously. Oats, and straw of any kind, they are very fond of.-Bess died young; Tiney lived nine years;" Puss eleven, dying of mere old age, apparently without pain.

MRS. PILKINGTON, whose poetical talents and frailties were, at one time of day, the alternate theme of praise and commiseration, tells us, in her Memoirs, that "from her earliest infancy she had a strong disposition to letters;" but, her eyes being weak, her mother would not permit her to look at a book, lest it should affect them. As she did not place so high. a value, however, on those lucid orbs as her mother, and as restraint only served to quicken her natural thirst for knowledge, she availed herself of every opportunity that could gratify it; so that, at five years old, she could read and even taste the beauties of some of the best English poets. She continued in this manner to improve her mind by stealth, till she had accomplished her twelfth year, when her brother, a little playful boy,

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brought her a slip of paper one day, and desired her to write something on it, that would please him, on which she wrote the following lines:

Oh, spotless paper, fair, and white! On thee by force constrain'd to write, Is it not hard I should destroy Thy purity to please a boy! Ungrateful I, thus to abuse The fairest servant of the Muse. Dear friend, to whom I oft impart The choice secrets of my heart, Ah! what atonement can be made For spotless innocence betray'd? How fair, how lovely, didst thou shew, Like lillied banks, or falling snow: But now, alas! become my prey, Not tears can wash thy stains away: Yet, this small comfort I can give, That what destroy'd shall make thee live. The Rev. Mr. Pilkington, the spouse and poetical rival of this lady, having incurred the displeasure of Dr. Swift, Mrs. Pilkington was resolved to exert the last feeble ray of her influence in favour of Mr. Pilkington, and, though far advanced in pregnancy, she waited on the Dean, who received her with coolness, but listened with patience to the long catalogue of virtues, which she ascribed to her repentant husband; and, to sum up all his good qualities in one, she assured his Reverence, that Mr. P. was the best natured man in the world. "If so," said the Dean, looking stedfastly in her face, "< go home, and let him father the bastard you now carry."

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David Haggart, who murdered the Dumfries turnkey, observed to a lady who travelled with him in the coach from Dumfries to Edinburgh, that the study and practice of legerdemain, and the performance of surprising feats, formed his ruling passion. While discoursing on this subject, he asked the lady what had become of a beautiful ring which he had observed on her finger when she entered the coach. She manifested much concern for the loss. Haggart then informed a gentleman in the coach, that a certain quantity of silver which he had lately received in change was no longer in his possession. To dispel their alarm, the hapless trickster informed the gentleman in which of his (Haggart's) pockets he would find the money and the lady's ring, himself not being able to reach them, owing to his arms being so closely pinioned !

A singular picture of German manners appears in the following Anecdote :-'A friend of mine received a note from a lady of her acquaintance, proposing to come and pass the evening; but happening to expect, among other visitors, the two former husbands of this lady, who had been twice divorced, out of regard for her feelings, she wrote a feigned excuse, begging her to postpone her visit. The divorced lady, however, immediately returned for answer, that she suspected the real ground of the excuse, and was grateful for my friend's considerate kindness; but she begged also to assure her it was quite superfluous, and that there would be no one in her party that she should not have pleasure in meeting. She accordingly came, and brought her present and third husband, to make a trio with her two former ones; and all parties spent the evening with perfect content and cordiality.

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It is a circumstance well known in the neighbourhood of Terrarogh, that during the late rebellion, a man was tried and condemned for disaffection; to whom it was offered to have his sentence of death changed into transportation, if he would make some discoveries. After some consultation with his wife and family, he sent for the officer of the guard, and told him he was ready for execution. "We must all die, please your honour," (said he, calmly) sooner or later; for my part, thank God, I am sure of dying in the midst of my people. Many a tear will be dropt, and many a song sung over me, and my children's children will talk of my wake and funeral. But if I go into foreign parts, though I save my life for a time, I must die at last, and die among strangers; without one friend to close my eyes, or to watch the morning-light, shining for the first time on my corpse." His wife, who was present wept, but confirmed him in his resolution, and the next day he was executed.

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"Sir Knight, a sister's truest love
For thee this heart doth know;
Then ask, I pray, no other love,
It only wakes my woe.
Unmov'd I look upon thee, knight,
Unmov'd I see thee fly,

I wis not why that gentle tear
Is glist'ning in thine eye-"
'Her speech he heard with silent grief,
And sore his heart did bleed;
Then quick he press'd her in his arms,
Then bounded on his steed-
Then summon'd he his brave men all
That dwelt about the Rhine;
The cross upon each valiant breast,
They sped to Palestine.

There deeds of high renown were wrought
By every warrior's sword;
Their helmets' crests in battle gleam'd
Amidst the paynim horde-
And most at Roland's dreaded name,
Quail'd each Moslem chief;
But Roland's heart was fastly bound
Within its chains of grief.

A long long year his pain he bore,
Till all his joy was lost;
And refuge finding none from woe,
He left the armed host.
A ship well dight with ready sail
By Joppa's strand there lay,
And he for that dear land embark'd
In which she breath'd the day.

And at her castle gate anon
Low the pilgrim knock'd,
Ah! with a thunder's sound
Was that gate unlock'd-

"She whom thou scek'st now wears the veil, And is bright Heaven's bride;

For yestermorn, with holy rites,
Was she to God allied."

And then for ever he forsook

His father's castle door

His armour never more he plied,

He strode his steed no more.

Down from the Donjon rock he roam'd,
A stranger everywhere;

For now his noble limbs were hid
In cloth of coarsest hair.

"And now a lonely hut he built,
Amid that lov'd countree;
Whence looking through the linden shade
The convent he might see;
And station'd there from morning dawn,
Till evening purple shone,
With hope upon his pensive eye,
Still he sat alone.

'Still look'd he on the convent walls,
Still hopeful did he look
Upon the casement of his love,
Until the casement shook;
Until her lovely form appear'd,
Until that face so dear,
With angel look, so still and mild,
Bent o'er the valley near.

And then he laid him joyful down, And slept with solace sweet, Rejoicing when the morning beam Again his eye should greet; And thus full many a day he sat, He sat through many a spring, Still listing, without plaint or pain, To hear the casement kling.

Until that lovely form appear'd, Until that face so dear, With angel look so still, and mild, Bent o'er the valley near; And there one morning fix'd he sat, A pallid corpse upright; But to the casement turn'd he still His dim and clouded sight.

Blunders.

IN a debate on the Leather-tax in 1795, in the Irish House of Commons, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, Sir John Parnell, observed, with great emphasis, that in the prosecution of the present war, every man should give his last guinea, to protect the remainder. Mr. Vandelure said, that however that might be, the tax on Leather would be severely felt by the bare-footed peasantry of Ireland. To which Sir Roach Bayle replied, that this could be easily remedied, by making the underneath of wood.

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A MAN, being tried in a court of justice for stealing a Goose; a witness came forward to swear, that he had known the goose since the time it was a gosling; which an Irishman hearing, who was going to be tried for stealing a Gun, got one of his Countrymen to swear, that he had known the Gun, ever since it was a Pistol.

A CLERGYMAN, a native of Devonshire, in a Sermon he was preaching at a church in Yorkshire, quoted a passage from Tertullian. After this quotation was finished, he informed the congregation that Tertullian was a native of Carthage, a city of Africa, built by Queen Dido, a description of whom might be found in Virgil's Eneid; that Carthage was once no mean rival of Rome; that at the present time nothing remained of it except a few columns, which might be seen only when the sea was low; and that one of these columns had lately been deposited in the British Museum, London, at which place any of his dear brethren might view it, free of expence !!!

Bon Mots.

RETORTA Scotch newspaper tells the following anecdote of the celebrated advocate, Mr. John C***k. Mr. C. while limping down the High-street of Edinburgh, from the Court of Session, overheard a young lady whisper, rather too loudly, to a companion, "That's the famous John C***k, the lame lawyer." Upon which he turned round, and with his wonted force, perhaps a little of not unwonted coarseness, exclaimed, "You lie, ma'am! I am a lame man, but not a lame lawyer."

THE following anecdote of the same gentleman will show his readiness at reply. In pleading before the House of Lords one day, he said, "In plaan English, ma lords," upon which Lord Eldon jocosely remarked, "In plain Scotch, you mean, Mr. C***k," and the prompt advocate instantly rejoined, "Nae matter! In plaan common sense, ma lord, and that's the same in a' languages."His client lost nothing by the turn.

A BISHOP of Amiens being applied to by a lady, for permission to wear rouge, replied" I can give you permission, Madam, for one cheek only."

IRISH LEGACY.-What will you leave in your will?" asked a lady of an Irish valetudinarian; to which he coolly answered-" Oh! the wide world, my dear!"

IN a country church, where it was the custom to separate the men from the women, a clergyman, being interrupted by loud talking, stopped short; when a woman, eager for the honour of her sex, arose and said " Your reverence, the noise is not among us." "So much the better," answered the priest, "it will be the sooner over."

THERE was a poor blind man in Warwickshire, who was accounted wondrous cunning in prognosticating the weather. So upon a day, Empsom, a great lawyer, as he rode that way, said, in scorn of his cunning, "I pray now tell me, father, when does the sun change?" The chafed old man, that knew his corrupt conscience, answered," when such a wicked lawyer as you goeth to Heaven."

Character.

St. EVREMOND.-The following cha racter of St. Evremond is drawn by himself:-I am a philosopher, as far remo ved from superstition as from impiety; a voluptuary, who has not less abhorrence for debauchery, than inclination for pleasure; a man, who has never known want nor abundance. Ioccupy that station of life which is despised by those who possess every thing; envied by those who have nothing, and only relished by those who make their felicity consist in the exercise of their reason. Young I hated dissipation; convinced that a man must possess wealth to provide for the comforts of a long life: old, I disliked economy, as I believe that we need not greatly

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