Mrs. Mechlin. And are you not ashamed, you sot, to be eternally guzzling! You had better buy you some cloaths.

Coachman. No, mistress, my honour won't let me do that. Mrs. M. Your honour and pray how does that hinder you?

Coachman. Why, when a good gentlewoman like you criesHere, coachman, here's something to drink

Mrs. M. Well.

Coachman. Would it be honour in me to lay it out in any thing Commissary.

else!

CALIBAN.

THE character of Caliban, in Shakspeare, is exquisitely drawn; for, though it be shocking to nature, yet one conceives it possible such a monster of brutality may exist, considering his supposed descent. Caliban, by metathesis, is Canibal.

ANON.

ASTRINGER.

IN All's well that Ends well, act 5, sc. 1. we have "Enter a gentle ASTRINGER." "A gentle Astringer," says Steevens, "is a gentleman falconer. I learn from Blount's Ancient Tenures, that a gosshawk is in our records termed by several names, Ostercum, Asturcum, &c. and all," he continues," from the French Austour." Asturco in T. Petron. Arbit. Satyr, p. 318, is a little horse, poney, or palfrey. See Pliny, Nat. Hist. 8, 42.

ORIGINAL POETRY.

HORACE IN LONDON.

BOOK I. ODE VIII.

TO ROWLAND HILL.

Lydia dic per omnes, &c.

Br those locks so lank and sable,
Which adown thy shoulders hang;

By thy phiz right lamentable,
And thy humming nasal twang:

ROWLAND HILL, thou queer fanatic,
Tell me why thy love and grace
Thus invade my servant's attic,
To unfit him for his place.

For the new light ever pining,
Thomas groans and hums and ha's,
But, alas! the light is shining,

Only through his lanthorn jaws.

May-pole pranks, and fiddle-scrapers, In his eye-sight change their hue,

Sable Athanasian vapours

Cloud his brain with devils blue.

From his fellows far asunder,
Tom enjoys his morning stave:
Works are but a Heathen blunder,
Faith alone has power to save.

From young Hal the tavern-waiter,
Oft the boxing prize he'd carry ;

Now, the pious gladiator

Only wrestles with old Harry.

By silver Thames reclining;
Unfetter'd now your mind may soar
On Aganippe's hallow'd shore,
The Muses' wreath entwining.

Quaff, while you may, your choicest wine,
Let beauty and the Muse combine,
To crown your classic leisure;
Snatch what the fickle fates supply,
Enjoy the roses ere they die,
And give a loose to pleasure.

Death pays no deference to name,
Peasant or prince 'tis all the same,
Unsparing king of Terror,
His warrant cannot be delay'd,

Nor his proceedings quash'd or stay'd

By any writ of error.

Your heir perchance, when you're remov'd, Improving on what you improv'd,

To give his taste expansion,

May fell your groves, implant the lawn,

And with a newer grace adorn
Your metamorphos'd mansion.

Fell Cerberus his victim snaps-
Life is a stage laid out in traps,
A pantomimic vision;

Some live to see the curtain drop,
And down some prematurely pop
Like Banquo's apparition.

H.

P PVOL. VI.*

ANACREON IN BOW-STREET.*

ODE I.

Θελω λεγειν Ατρείδας.

As rapt I sweep my golden lyre,
To Love I cry, "My notes inspire,
My brain with fancies cram !"
But Thespian wars fill all my strain,
TOM HARRIS junior, hapless swain!
JOHN KEMBLE and DUTCH SAM.

Then if I to the Stage belong,
O let me sing the charms of song,
Of BILLINGTON and BRAHAM!
In vain!-again my wishes fail,
I sing of nought but heavy bail,

Of TOWNSEND and of GRAHAM.

The soul of harmony is dead,
And vilest discord reigns instead,
With rioting and battles—

To shrieking owls are turn'd my doves,
To O. P.t men the little Loves,

My lyre to horns and rattles!

be

* I am a rival of " Horace in London," but upon such terms as can by no means give offence. I think, and I say of him, what my Lord Chesterfield perhaps thought, and certainly said, of Pope: "I will venture this piece of classical blasphemy, which is, that, however he may supposed to be obliged to Horace, Horace is more obliged to him." I think, and I say the same of myself! and I have no doubt but Messrs. J. and H. will allow me to be a tolerable judge!

"OPES strepitumque." Hor. Od. lib. iii. 29.