exclusive and general reception of the aged. What can be more painful to the philanthropist, than to see them depending on chance for a precarious existence? To reflect that at a period of life, when they should be nursed in the lap of comfort, they are driven forth to seek the means of support by laborious drudgery, to which their strength is unequal, and compelled, in a state of helpless decrepitude, to submit to offices which should only be executed by the youthful and the vigorous? I cannot assent to the cold-hearted theory of those political economists who oppose a provision for age, because it would encourage a laxity of exertion in the young. If the contributions to effect this purpose were fairly equalized and duly enforced;-if it were imperative on youth to administer towards a fund which should afford them succour in old age, they would have a clear right to partake of it, thus parting with no portion of their independence of mind, and the improvident and thoughtless, as well as the unfortunate, might then have a legal claim to a provision, which natural temperamenc and an inherent principle, as much as culpable neglect, would never else have thought of securing.

But under no circumstances, save one, does old age appear to me desirable; and this is, when it is accompanied by piety. I cannot conceive a more heartcheering consolation,-a more soothing and powerful antidote against the sorrows of senility, than that placid resignation, that calm disposition of soul, which results from an implicit reliance on the will of Heaven; which looks back to a youth of error with the hope of forgiveness, and forward to eternity with the prospect of bliss. This were indeed "a consummation devoutly to be wished." All the struggles of a life of misery, all the "heart-aches which flesh is heir to," shrink into nothingness, when compared with this mighty recompense; they fade away at its touch, and are like a feather in the balance.

I am about to moralise, when my intention was only to investigate. But surely we may be allowed to be sometimes serious;-and even the young, the thought

less, and the gay,-if they are tempted to glance over this sombre picture of human nature, which loses no portion of its fidelity from its distance, even the lighthearted-may join me in the hope that these reflections will engender sympathy for age, ere gray hairs are scattered on our own brow; not indeed with the hope of purchasing an exemption from its sorrows, but (should Providence crown us with length of days) that we may at least reflect, our cup of misery is not merited by our neglect of the old when we were young; and that we are but partaking, in the bitterness of its dregs, the common lot of humanity.

Literary Speculum.

DRAMATIC CHARACTERS.

[The following whimsical characters are from a very amusing work,

entitled "The Itinerant."]

A SHORT time before the season closed, a gentleman requested to see me at the Cheshire Cheese. I lost not a moment to obey the summons, and was entering the room, when the landlady told me, he was at that moment engaged with his washerwoman; and the door being a-jar, I found they were literally disputing about the merits of washing a shirt. "I can't wash it, sir," said the woman; "'twill fall to pieces." "Od rabbit it !" replied the other, "then hang it against the wall, and throw a bucket of water at it; but don't abuse it, for it is an only child, and dry it as fast as you can, that I may get into better habits. It's an hour's good exercise every morning to find my way into it: I must have a chart drawn, that I may know how to steer; for when I think I am sailing through the neck, I find myself floundering in the arm-pits, or ramming my head into elbow-lane. At the conclusion of this speech, I rushed into the

room, took the poor fellow in my arms, threw the shirt into the fire, and turned the washer-woman out of doors.

Feeling choked his utterance-" Od rabbit it!" was all he could articulate. I stood gazing with astonishment and pity; clothed in the same habit he wore nine months ago, but grown ragged and shabby by constant use; his once fat and rosy gills now bore the semblance of penury; even his laughter-loving eye had lost its lustre, it was sunk and hollow; yet still his heart was whole, and still he laughed at sorrow. After mentally making these observations, "Tony," exclaimed I, "is that you ?"

"A piece of me; I'm in famous trim for the starved apothecary, for all the world like a forked radish.' Misery brings a man acquainted with strange bedfellows; but more of this anon."

My good friend, what has brought you here? I am heartily glad to see you; but 'tis with sorrow I observe you hang out signals of distress."

"And you, Mr. Romney, like a brave English sailor, heave to take me on board and place me on the doctor's list-being weak from hard work, and short commons, he orders the grog to be thrown in immediately-so Od rabbit it! ring the bell, and I'll tell you all, how, and about it."

After some refreshment, his eyes recovered their lustre, his pipe was filled, and between each puff he spoke as follows:

"It is about nine months since you left me in London, and-well remembered, thank you for the note you sent me; the five pounds stood me in good stead; God bless you for it. Well, I was comfortable enough, all things considered, and held the book, whilst 'prentice boys made fools of themselves at Dibble Davies's slaughter-house; till the cash came in so slowly, that Dibble hopp'd the twig, and left me to shift as well as I could. Now, your note stood my friend. For three weeks I took my drops, and smoked a social pipe at Spencer's, caring, as usual, little about the morrow,

One evening, when I had been very successful in some of my best stories, a little gentleman who sat in the corner, and had laughed till his sides ached, insisted upon treating me with a bottle of wine, which, rather than give offence, I suffered him to do. After a glass or two, I found that he was manager of a small company at Barnet, and though he had never heard of my fame as an actor, which is rather odd, he took it into his head that I must be a very excellent comedian from my conversation and appearance, and offered me an engagement. I snapped immediately, struck the nail on the head whilst it was hot, and agreed to play at Barnet six nights on profits-Od rabbit it! how I hate the word! If you will believe me, the profits were all losses; and after exerting my talents before a set of stupid dolts, who did not know good acting when they saw it, I found myself reduced to half a crown; so that rather than go back to town, and stand the roast at Spencer's, I engaged to give them another lift at the next town, in hopes of better luck. But here the manager (who ought to have known better from the sample he had had of my acting), gave me inferior parts: instead of Richard, I saw my name down for the Lord Mayor. Thus neglected, I thought it best to decamp; but not before I had given them the bag in style, and serve them right too, for they often gave me the goose. Another unfortunate son of Thespis, who, like myself, meant to leave a bad business, without knowing where to get a better, hit upon the following scheme. We had a set of handbills printed, informing "the nobility, gentry, and public at large, that Signior Grimalkini was just arrived with a most astonishing cat, the wonder of the world; that this amazing animal was capable of articulating several words, in many languages, and could absolutely hold a conversation in English. Likewise the signior's own imitations, which would embrace many well known characters of the present day, and finally, that he would take himself off, to the great surprise of all present." Od rabbit it! Mr. Romney, John Bull is always to be had; I intend to revive the bottle conjuror next time I

am put to my shifts. We took a large room, which was presently filled. I received the money, whilst the signior prepared the cat and himself for their public entré. At length he went forward with his green bag, which being opened, the cat naturally enough ran away, which the signior as naturally accounted for, by attributing it to fright. However, to give the quadruped time to recover herself, he would begin with his imitations; and first, he would have the honour of taking himself off. Ladies and gentlemen,' said he, by the compression of the larynxhere he was conveniently seized with a fit of coughing, and requesting their patience whilst he retired for a glass of water, joined me, and making the best of our way out of town, we left the audience to amuse one another, and the reflecting part of the inhabitants to laugh at their credulity."

Why, Tony, that was letting the cat out of the bag to some purpose; but what said your conscience? Had you no qualms?'

"I cannot say I felt quite comfortable; but since the world will, why let it be deceived.' The greatest geniuses in the profession have before now been put to their shifts. I remember when John Kemble was at Tewkesbury, his landlady was very importunate for several weeks' lodging in arrears. Vain was her application; John had no money, and was at his wit's end. At length he hit upon a grand manœuvre. In the apartment beneath, for John was in the attic, a gentleman lodged, whose state of health was so precarious, that the greatest care, attention, and quiet were necessary. John, knowing this, purchased two tops, and with much expertness whipped them about the room, as if his very existence depended upon their constant motion. The landlady in vain represented the state of her sick lodger; John had a complaint in his chest, and his physician prescribed that mode of exercise as the only cure.'

6

And

so it proved, for the woman forgave the arrears, provided he would leave her house, and thus John whipped himself out of his lodging.".

Tony, in his eagerness for story-telling, forgot his