ting, &c. Here he equalled at least, if not excelled his fellow scholars in his proficiency, and played so many droll tricks at the expense of his ushers and school-fellows, they had no scruple in pronouncing him—a clever lad. He was next sent to college where he outdid all his competitors in the midnight frolick, played an excellent hand at whist, learned to drink his bottle, and was so plea❤ sant in singing a catch or glee, that they all agreed in bestowing upon him the epithet a promising fellow. Here too he distinguished himself in certain amours rather of the expensive kind, though they did not extend to higher game than his bedmaker or laundress, daughter; when his parents were informed of his gallantry, they cried out in extacyJack is a wild dog; and to which his father added-d--d sensible ! His terms being over, he was sent to London and placed in one of the inns of court, as the proper place to study the law and see the world. he formed a new set of acquaintances with whom he ate, drank, gamed, and saw fights, He was the life and soul of his company, for he knew more and had more money than most of them; and the sly old benchers of thi inns shook their heads, and declared he was-a fine dashing fellow. In his anxiety to see the world, he frequented all kinds of company, from the club in St. James's to the cellars in St. Giles's, and made such droll remarks on what he saw, and seemed to enter so heartily into every kind os conviviality

Here

that although some thought him mad, yet the majority pronounced him-a queer dog and no fool. He, now began to dress in style -and keep women in style-dine in style, and give suppers in style. He was a great man at the coffee houses-in the bov lobby of the theatres his person was an object-his opinion a law; and from his general acquaintance with the fair frail, people began to consider him a buck: In time he learned to judge of horse flesh, frequented the races, betted considerably on the favourite horse of the day and won large sums. Lords uow shook hands with him, and grave senators asked his opinion not on state, but on stable affairs, and he was known in the coffee houses as one of the fraternity; in a word he was-a knowing one. But some how or other, his fortune, which had for some time been in his own hands, began to decrease-he was less successful in his bets-his bills remained unpaid for months-tradesmen began to be clamourous-money must be had-and to get it he ventured on many schemes which the world does not approve of, nor think quite consistent with honesty, and became— a black legs. Amidst all this he never was an apostate to the cause of the fair sex, pursued his amours with inconstant constancy, and with the advantages of a good person, some art, and some assurance, he was set down for

-a devil among the women. In the progress

of time however he found his affairs so much deranged, that he came to the resolution to

sell the remainder of what he possessed, buy an annuity, and retire from publick life. In managing this matter he made so good a bargain, that even the Jews shook their heads, stroked their beards and swore-" ash Got is my judges, he is no Chrestian.” After this he

enjoyed himself to a pretty advanced age, having gone through, besides the characters above mentioned, several others, such as odd fellow-hearty cock-pleasant dog-queer kind of a b.-a rum one &c. and at last he died at his lodgings at a hair dresser's in Barbican, leaving his moveables and personal effects to an old woman, who swept his room, made his bed, and tucked him up; which occasioned people to say " he was still the old man. ay, There was not however enough left to bury him, and the parish took this expense off the shoulders of his wealthy old friends, who signified their concern at his death, by the tender exclamation of—“ poor devil! what! is he dead? Well, I knew him once, a fine fellow."

"Sic transit gloria mundi."

QUAINT TITLES.

THE prevailing rage to catch the publick ear by some specious or surprising title, has rendered many authors as ridiculous, in naming their works, as quacks or mountebanks. We have been pestered with Mysteries of the Black Tower' Mysteries elucidated'— • Mystery of Mysteries' My Uncle Thom as' Out at last Man as he is not'.

'Woman as she should be :'-and many things which should not be. Among others. St. Godwin, by St. Leon'-on which an irritated wag was revenged by exhibiting at the side of it St. Devil, by Satan.'

6

But novelists are not alone in this prostitution of literature. In professional knowledge there is practised a kind of swindling, equalled only by that political swindling, which has helped many a jockey in to office, in a certain country somewhere this side of the moon. Every man his own lawyer,' and Every man his own doctor,' are titles, by which scribblers induce the unlettered to buy their vile trash. We expect the next new catch-penny production will be some lame dissertation, with the equally consistent and pretty title of Every man his own wife.' Troy Gaz.

PREACHING.

WHEN Dr. S. once preached at St. James's, a by-stander observed, "he did better last year."-" He did not preach at all last year," replied another-"The very thing I meant," answered he.

DOUBLE PUN.

The Earl of Leicester, that unworthy favourite of Queen Elizabeth, forming a park about Cornbury, and thinking to enclose it with posts and rails, was one day calculating the expense: A gentleman who stood. by told him he did not go the cheapest way ...VOL. 1.

to work. "How can I do it cheaper?" said my lord of Leicester. "Why," replied the gentleman, "if your lordship will find posts, the country will find railing."

SELECT SENTENCES.

HE who betrays another's secrets, because he has quarrelled with him, was never worthy of the sacred name of friend; a breach of kindness on the one side will not justify a breach of trust on the other.

MORE female characters are lost by lenity than by intrigue.

He who has debauched a woman is a villain; but if he suffers her, therefore, to be insulted, he is a scoundrel.

GAMING is the vice of hope.

THE girl who has inflamed her passions, by novel-reading, is a piece ready charged and primed; the least spark (if I may be excused the triple pun) will make her go off. THE voluptuary glories in his passions; the philosopher wishes he had none.

THE habit of reading, though even of indifferent performances, is not a little beneficial; insomuch as it may serve to withdraw the memory from subjects of domestick grief, or direct the mind from thoughts which engender perilous passions: but the advantage of reading good books is incalculably great; for though we should not put all, or