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so as to honour the frozen element with who has heard it before, corrects him by a sudden salute from that part of the body saying, “ No, Pa, that's not it-it's because which usually gravitates on a chair; they are furred up." Now, unless their and the wits compliment him on the horses are turned up, the riders are very superior knowledge by which he has likely to be turned down; and deep wells “ broken the ice," and the little lads run are dry, and poor old women, with a to see what a big star the gentleman has “ well-a-day !” are obliged to boil down made !” and think it must have hurt him snow and icicles to make their tea with. 6 above a bit !”

Now, an old oak-tree, with only one branch, It is now that the different canals are looks like a man with a rifle to his shoulder, frozen up, and goods are conveyed by and the night-lorn traveller trembles at the the stage-waggon, and “it's a capital time prospect of having his head and his pockets for the turnpikes ;” and those who can get rifled together. Now, sedan-chairs, and brandy, drink it; and those who can't, servants with lanterns, are “flitting across drink ale; and those who are unable to the night,” to fetch home their masters and procure either, do much better without mistresses from oyster-eatings, and quathem. And now, ladies have red noses, drille parties. And now, a young lady, and the robin, with his little head turned who had retreated from the heat of the ballknowingly on one side, presents his burning room, to take the benefit of the north wind, breast at the parlour window, and seems to and caught a severe cold, calls in the crave a dinner from the noontide breakfast doctor, who is quite convinced of the corIn such a day, the “son and heir” of the rectness of the old adage, “It's an ill wind

gentleman retired from business” bedi- that blows nobody good.” zens the drawing-room with heavy loads of Now, the sultana of the night reigns on prickly evergreen; and bronze candle- her throne of stars, in the blue zenith, and bearers, porcelain figures, and elegant young ladies and gentlemen, who had chimney ornaments, look like prince shivered all day by the parlour fire, and Malcolm's soldiers at “Birnam wood," or found themselves in danger of annihilation chorister boys on a holy Thursday; and when the door by chance had been left a little his “ Ma” nearly falls into hysterics on way open, are quite warm enough to walk discovering the mischief; and his “Pa” together by moonlight, though every thing begins to scold him for being so naughty; around them is actually petrified by the and the budding wit asks, as he runs out frost.

Why, don't you know that Now, in my chamber, the last ember these are the holly days ?” and his father falls, and seems to warn us as it descends, relates the astonishing instance of early that though we, like it, may shine among genius at every club, card-party, or vestry- the brilliant, and be cherished by the great meeting for a month to come. Now, all the (grate,) we must mingle our ashes. The pumps are frozen, old men tumble down wasted candle, too, is going the way of all on the flags, and ladies “ look blue” at their Hesh, and the writer of these

night lovers. Now, the merry-growing bacchanal thoughts,” duly impressed with the imbegins to thaw himself with frequent po- portance of his own mortality, takes his tations of wine ; bottle after bottle is sacri- farewell of his anti-critical readers in the ficed to the health of his various friends, language of the old song, though his own health is sacrificed in the

“Gude night, an' joy be wi' all!" ceremony; and the glass that quaffs “ the prosperity of the British constitution,” Lichfield.

J. H. ruins his own.

And now, dandies, in rough great coats and fur collars, look like Esquimaux Indians; and the fashionables of the fuir sex,

TAKE NOTICE. in white veils and swans-down muffs and tippets, have (begging their pardons)

A correspondent who has seen the origivery much the appearance of polar bears.

nal of the following notice, written at Baih, Now, Miss Enigmaria Conundrina Riddle, says, it would have been placed on a board poring over her new pocket-book, lisps its author to the contrary:

in a garden there, had not a friend advised out, Why are ladies in winter like teakettles ?” to which old Mr. Riddle, pouring

“ ANY PERSON TRESPACE HERE forth a dense ringlet of tobacco-smoke, replies, “ Because they dance and sing ;" but master Augustus Adolphus Riddle,


of the room,




For the Table Book.

The Bazaar in Soho

Is completely the go. (Song.)
Put it down in the bill
Is the fountain of ill, –

This has every shopkeeper undone
Bazaars never trust, so down with your dust,

And help us to diddle all London. (Song.)

Dear madam, give mo leave to ask


husband is ?Why, Mr. Snooks has lost his looks, He's got the rheumatiz !

With a “How do you do,
Ma'am ?" " How are you ?

How dear the things all are !"
Throughout the day
You hear them say,

At fam'd Soho Bazaar.

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Oh how I've wish'd for some time back

To ride to the Bazaar,
And I declare the day looks fair

Now won't you go, mamma?
For there our friends we're sure to meet,

So let us haste away,
My cousins, too, last night told you,
They'd all be there today.

With a “ How do you do,
Ma'am ?” “How are you?

How dear the things all are !"
Throughout the day
You hear them say,

At fam'd Soho Bazaar.

“ Tom ! see that girl, how well she walks !

But faith, I must confess, I never saw a girl before

In such a style of dress.” "Why, really, Jack, I think you're right, Just let me look a while ;

(looking through his glass) I like her gait at any rate, But don't quite like her style.

With a “ How do you do,
Ma'am ?” “How are you?

How dear the things all are !"
Throughout the day
You hear them say,

At fam'd Soho Bazaar.

Some look at this thing, then at that,

But vow they're all too bigh ; “ How much is this?”—“ Two guineas, miss !"

Oh, I don't want to buy !"
Look at these pretty books, my love,

I think it soon will rain ;
There's Mrs. Howe, I saw her bow,
Why don't you bow again ?
With a" How do


Ma'am ?" “ How are you?

How dear the things all are !"
Throughout the day
You bear them say,

At fam'd Soho Bazaar.

“ That vulgar lady's standing there

That every one may view her;"-
Sir, that's my daughter;"-"No, not her;

I mean the next one to her:"
* Oh, that's my niece,"_" Oh no, not her,"

You seem, sir, quite amused;" Dear ma'am,-heyday !-what shall I say? I'm really quite confused." With a How do

you do,
Ma'am ?” “How are you?

How dear the things all are !"
. Throughout the day
You hear them say,

At fam'd Soho Bazaar.

Just see that picture on the box,

How beautifully doue ! " It isn't high, ma'am, won't you buy?

It's only one poind one."
How pretty all these bonnets look

With red and yellow strings;
Come here, my dear, don't go too near,
You mustn't touch the things.

With à " How do you do,
Ma'am ?” “How are you?

How dear the things all are !"
Throughout the day
You hear them say,

At fam'd Soho Bazaar.

Thus beaux and belles together meet,

And thus they spend the day ;
And walk and talk, and talk and walk,

And then they walk away.
If you have half an hour to spare,

The better way by far
Is here to lounge it, with a friend,
In the Soho Bazaar.

With a “ How do you do,
Ma'am ?” “How are you ?

How dear the things all are !"
Throughout the day
You hear them say,

At fam'd Soho Bazaar.

Miss Muggins, have you seen enough?

I'm sorry I can't stay; There's Mrs. Snooks, how fat she looks !

She's coming on this way:


For the Table Book.

Xerxes, Ximenes, Xanthus, Xaviere!
Yield, yield, ye youths ! ye yeomen, yield your yell;
Zeno's, Zampatee's, Zoroaster's zeal,
Attracting all, arms against acts appeal!

The banks are partly green; hedges and trees
Are black and shrouded, and the keen wind roars,

Like dismal music wand'ring over seas,

For the Table Book. And wailing to the agitated shores.

The names of towns, cities, or villages, The fields are dotted with manure... the sheep which terminate in ter, such as Chester, In unshorn wool, streak'd with the shepherd's red,

Caster, Cester, show that the Romans, in Their undivided peace and friendship keep,

their stay among us, made fortifications Shaking their bells, like children to their bed.

about the places where they are now situThe roads are white and miry-waters run

ated. In the Latin tongue Castra is the With violence through their tracks--and sheds, that name of these fortifications such are Cas. flowers

tor, Chester, Doncaster, Leicester: Don In summer graced, are open to the sun,

signifies a mountain, and Ley, or Lei, Which shines in noonday's horizontal hours. . ground widely overgrown. Frost claims the night; and morning, like a bride,

In our 'ancient tongue wich, or wick, Forth from her chamber glides; mist spreads her

means a place of refuge, and is the termi

nation of Warwick, Sandwich, Greenwich, vest; The sunbeams ride the clouds till eventide,

Woolwich, &c. And the wind rolls them to ethereal rest.

Thorp, before the word village was bor

rowed from the French, was used in its Sleet, shine, cold, fog, in portions fill the time;

stead, and is found at the end of many Like hope, the prospect cheers; like breath it fades;

towns' names. Life grows in seasons to returning prime,

Bury, Burgh, or Berry, signifies, metaAnd beauty rises from departing shades.

phorically, a town having a wall about it, January, 1827.


sometimes a high, or chief place.

Wold means a plain open country.

Combe, a valley between two hills. THE SIEGE OF BELGRADE. Knock, a hill.

Hurst, a woody place. Addressed to the Admirers of Alliteration, Magh, a field. and the Advocates of Noisy Numbers. Innes, an island.

Worth, a place situated between two Ardentem aspicio atque arrectis auribis asto.-Virgil. rivers.

Ing, a tract of meadows. An Austrian army awfully arrayed,

Minster is a contraction of monastery. Boldly by battery besieged Belgrade : Cossack commanders cannonading conte,

SAM SAM's Son. Dealing destruction's devastating doom; Every endeavour engineers essay, For fame, for fortune fighting-furious fray!

Generals 'gainst generals grapple, gracious G-d!

For the Table Book.
How honours heaven heroic hardihood!
Infuriate-indiscriminate in ill-

The snowdrop, rising to its infant height,
Kinsmen kill kindred-kindred kinsmen kill:

Looks like a sickly child upon the spot Labour low levels loftiest, longest lines,


young nativity, regarding not Men march 'mid mounds, 'mid moles, 'mid murder

The air's caress of melody and light ous mines:

Beam'd from the east, and soften'd by the bright Now noisy noxious numbers notice nought

Effusive flash of gold :-the willow stoops Of outward obstacles, opposing ought,

And muses, like a bride without her love, Poor patriots !-partly purchased-partly press'd,

On her own shade, which lies on waves, and droops Quite quaking, quickly, “Quarter! quarter!" quest;

Beside the natal trunk, nor looks above :Reason returns, religious right redounds,

The precipice, that torrents cannot move, Suwarrow stops such sanguinary sounds.

Leans o'er the sea, and steadfast as a rock, Truce to thee, Turkey, triumph to thy train,

Of dash and cloud unconscious, bears the rude Unwise, unjust, unmerciful Ukraine!



the sounds and echoes mock: Vanish, vain victory!' vanish, victory vain !

Thus Mental Thought enduring, wears in solitude. Why wish we warfare? Wherefore welcome WETE 1827.

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Some years ago, the fine old font of the wardens during whose reign venality or ancient parish church of Harrow-on-the stupidity effected the removal of its prehill was torn from that edifice, by the

If there be any persons in that gentlemen of the parish,” and given out parish who either venerate antiquity, or deto mend the roads with. The feelings of sire to see right things in right places," one parishioner (to the honour of the sex, a it is possible that, by a spirited representafemale) were outraged by this act of paro- tion, they may arouse the indifferent, and chial Vandalism ; and she was allowed to shame the ignorant to an interchange; and preserve it from destruction, and place it in force an expression of public thanks to the a walled nook, at the garden front of her lady whose good taste and care enabled it house, where it still remains.

to be effected. The relative situation and obliging permission, a drawing of it was misappropriation of each font is a stain on made the summer before last, and is the parish, easily removable, by employing engraved above.

a few men and a few pounds to clap the On the exclusion of Harrow font from paltry usurper under the spout of the good the church, the parish officers put up the lady's house, and restore the noble original marble wash - hand - basin-stand - looking- from that degrading destination, to its thing, which now occupies its place, in- rightful dignity in the church. scribed with the names of the church

Vol. 1.-6.

By her

Garrick Plays.

Unluưful Solicitings.

When I first
No. III.

Mention'd the business to her all alone,

Poor Soul, she blush'd, as if already she [From the “ Rewards of Virtue," a Cornedy, Had done some harm by hearing of me speak;

by John Fountain, printed 1661.] Whilst from her pretty eyes two fountains ran Success in Battle not always attributable to the General.

So true, so native, down her fairest cheeks ;

As if she thought herself obliged to cry,
Generals oftimes famous grow

'Cause all the world was not so good as she.
By valiant friends; or cowardly enemies ;
Or, what is worse, by some mean piece of chance.
Truth is, 'tis pretty to observe
How little Princes and great Generals

Proportion in Pity.
Contribute oftentimes to the fame they win.

There must be some proportion still to pity How oft hath it been found, that noblest minds

Between ourselves and what we moan : 'tis hard With two short arms, have fought with fatal stars;

For Men to be ought sensible, how Moats And have endeavour'd with their dearest blood

Press Flies to death. Should the Lion, in To mollify those diamonds, where dwell

His midnight walks for prey, hear some poor worms The fate of kingdoms; and at last have faln

Complain for want of little drops of dew, By vulgar hands, unable now to do

What pity could that generous creature have More for their cause than die ; and have been lost,

(Who never wanted small things) for those poot Among the sacrifices of their swords ;

Ambitions ? yet these are their concernments,
No more remember'd than poor villagers,

And but for want of these they pine and die.
Whose ashes sleep among the common Aowers,
That every meadow wears : whilst other men
With trembling hands have caught & victory,
And on pale foreheads wear triumphant bayš.

Modesty a bar to preferment.
Besides, I have thought

Sure 'twas his modesty. He might have thriven A thousand times ; in times of war, when we

Much better possibly, had his ambition Lift up our hands to heaven for victory;

Been greater much. They oftimes take more pains Suppose some virgin Shepherrless, whose soul

Who look for Pins, than those who find out Stars. Is chaste and clean as the cold spring, where she Quenches all thirsts, being told of enemieš, That seek to fright the long-enjoyed Peace Of our Arcadia hence with sound of drums,

İnnocence vindicated at last. And with hoarse trumpets' warlike airs to drown

Heav'n may awhile correct the virtuous; The harmless music of her oaten reeds;

Yet it will wipe their eyes again, and make Should in the passion of her troubled sprite

Their faces whiter with their tears. Innocence Repair to some small fane (such as the Gods

Conceal'd is the Stoln Pleasure of the Gods, Hear poor folks from), and there on humble knees

Which never ends in shame, as that of Men Lift up her trembling hands to holy Pan,

Doth oftimes do; but like the Sun breaks forth, And beg his helps: 'tis possible to think, That Heav'n, which holds the purest vows most rich,

When it hath gratified another world ;

And to our unexpecting eyes appears
May not permit her still to weep in vain,

More glorious thro’its late obscurity.
But grant her wish, (for, would the Gods not hear

prayers poor folks, they'd ne'er bid them pray);
And so, in the next action, happeneth out
(The Gods still using means) the Enemy

Dying for a Beloved Person.
May be defeated. The glory of all this
Is attributed to the General,

There is a gust in Death, when 'tis for Love,

That's more than all that's taste in all the world. And none but he's spoke loud of for the act;

For the true measure of true Love is Death; While she, from whoše so unaffected tears

And what falls short of this, was never Love : His laurel sprung, for ever dwells unknown.*

And therefore when those tides do meet and strive,

And both swell high, but Love is higher still,
Is it possible that Cowper might have remembered

This is the truest satisfaction of
this sentiment in his description of the advantages The perfectest Love: for here it sees itself
which the world, that scorns him, may derive from the
noiseless hours of the contemplative man?

Indure the highest test; and then it feels

The sum of delectation, since it now
Perhaps she owes
Her sunshine and her rain, her blooming spring

Attains its perfect end ; and shows its object,
And plenteous harvest, to the prayer he makes,

By one intense act, all its verity:
When, Isaac-like, the solitary saint

Which by a thousand and ten thousand words
Walks forth to meditate åt eventide ;
* And think on her, who thinks not on herself.

It would have took a poor diluted pleasure
Task, To have imperfectly express'd.


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