fers. In one of these his "Deformed and Monstrous People," cut as jaunty a figure as his Adam and Eve, and seem to pique themselves on their ancient titles of Deformes et Monstrosi. In another the Soul of Man is described by a bodily outline standing against a sheet. He is never moved but by some point of faith. Thus Godliness, he says, treads Reason under foot, that barking Dog, No. 6.-Oblatrantem Canem, 6. The translation, observe, is quite worthy of the original. Again : Woe to the mad Wizards and Witches, who give themselves to the Devil (being enclosed in a Circle, 7. calling upon him with Charms) they dally with him and fall from God! for they shall receive their re ward with him. ede, 15, and ot C But of the Fall of Adam and Eve, he contents himself with this pithy account: 10 These, being tempted by the Devil under the shape of a serpent, 3. when they had eaten of the fruit of the forbidden Tree, 4. 2002 97 and cast out of Paradise, 6. " Opposite to this, is the account of fish : Add Herrings, 7, (97 1 which are brought pickled, and Place, 8. and Cod, 9." which are brought dry;. J. and the sea-monsters, &c. Addé Halecés, 7. qui salsi, et Passeres, 8, cum Asellis, 9. qui adferuntur arefacti; et monstra marina, &c. Of a similar aspect of complacency is his account of the Last Judgment; When the Godly and Elect, 4. shall enter into life eternal, into the place of Bliss, and the new. Jerusalem, 5. But the wicked and the damned, 6; Ubi pii (justi) et Electi, 4., et novam Hierosolymam, 5. et damnati, 6. _shall be thrust into Hell, (No. 8.) cum Cacodcmonibus, 7. with the Devils (Seven). in Gehennam, 8. detrudentur, to be there tormented for ever. The Shipwreck ends genteelly, 15 16 170 bil02 1 Some escape either on a Plank, 7. and by swimming, or in a Boat, 8. ↑ Part of the Wares, with the DEAD FOLKS, is carried out of the sea, 9. upon the shores. Moi baz Puntering deg Quidam evadunt,ii'b mi vel tabula, 7. tefnt home whif raç enatando, vel Scapha, 8. cum mortuis à Mari, 9. in littora defertur. So in The Tormenting of Malefactors, he speaks of torture in a parenthesis, and talks of pulling traitors in pieces in the style of a nota-bene. "They that have their life given them" appear to be still worse off. Malefactors, 1. or have their Hand, 12. given them," are set on the pillory, 16, are strapado'd, 17. are set upon a Wooden Horse, 18. imponuntur Equuleo, 18. trancantur Auribus, 19.. cæduntur Virgis, 20.10 stigmate notantur, damnantur ad Triremes, vel ad Carcerem perpetuam, Perduelles discerpuntur quadrigis. The reader must regard this venerable work as a book taken up before breakfast; for as we are to be full of good things in our present number, we take a refuge very common to those who have no better, and invite him to discuss (a word, by the bye, of much-injured metaphorical common-place, which we hereby restore to its ingenuity) some rolls and ham with us. It is astonishing what good company a gentlecan can make himself, by means of this kind. A breakfast may be eloquent: a dinner is sure to be so. The very decantering of his wine shall discourse excellent music" for him. His good things are all of 66 the best, substantial, and intelligible. He is solid over his beef. His jeu d'esprit is a bottle of soda. "A little more of the sounds ???66 a little stewed lobster?”“a leetle more lemon to the currie ?” →→→ some stuffing?"—" more grouse ?"" let me recommend this blanc-manger-this-cream-pancake this custard with your tart--these brandy-apricots-these olives a devil-hah! (smacking his lips) this is the old wine I told you of, sure enough:"-phrases of this kind, judiciously administered, shall outrival twice as many bon-mots. They shall produce a profound sensation, an absolute severity of satisfaction. We have known a gentleman, remarkable for a certain festive taciturnity, sit at the head of his table; and by dint of these commen datory syllables, united to the reputation of knowing more than he said, make a wit feel doubtful of the merit of being facetious, and fearful how he interrupted so intense a conviviality. And here, (before, the rolls come up), we may notice a compromis. ing kind of it, which would see fair play between ideas and no ideas, and might be imitated to advantage by those who would willingly say something and yet nothing, Polite Conversation, as detailed by Swift, has had its day; so that if the genteel have no new novel or scandal to discourse of, they will rather say nothing than not appear knowing or literary. The jokes about "my Lord Mayor's fool," and "none the better for seeing you,” and “Prythee, Tom, how is it you can't see the wood for trees," have been superseded by the Periodical Publications. Now the wittock we speak of (to use a Scotch diminutive) is akin to punning, inasmuch as it plays upon words; so that at any rate some verbal knowledge is requisite for those who handle it; and herein the advantage proposed to the dining circles is evident. It is practised with great applause by a friend of ours, and may be called the Art of Translating a Language into Itself. Thus, to break signifying also to fracture, and fast being, in one sense, the same as rapid, the wag in question calls Breakfasting, Fracturing one's Rapid. Cold Mutton he translates into Frigid Sheep. Foreign Pickle is Peregrine Pickle, Some Bacon is a Piece of the Viscount St. Albans ;-or in removing bacon for some other dish, he recommends you to put it Nigh where the goodly Verulam stood of yore. Greens are Verdants; and as Verd means Green, and Green means Inexperienced, and Ants has a sound like Aunts, he calls them, by a diffuser version, Inexperienced Sisters of one's Father. Polling the Bell is Romping with the Beauty; and Bringing up the Urn, Educating the Sarcophagus. There is eminent authority for this kind of translation into other languages;-as the Latin conversion attributed to Dr. Johnson of a Tea-chest into the second person singular of the verb Doceo, to teach; and Hogarth's epistolary drawing, inviting a friend, in three Greek letters; to Eta Beta Pi. But our friend contrives to be learned, while adhering to his own language; and pours forth a profusion of synonimous trifling, which we, of all persons, shall certainly not quarrel with, seeing that he does it out of the delight of escaping from his studies, and feeling his kindred or his friends about him. We were much pleased the other day, for his sake, in hearing of an eminent living philosopher of our acquaintance, who in the midst of his white locks still retains his love of verbal joking, and delights to help his young companions to a jest as well as some soup. He lets, in particular, his political spleen take breath by it. One dish, which he is fondest of cutting up, he calls after such and such a statesman. He shakes his head at another, and says there is too much High Church in it. To your veal he recommends a squeeze of the Judge. An old schoolfellow of ours, with whom we used to breakfast in high glee and a study four feet square, possesses, almost beyond any man we ever met with, this talent of converting one idea into another, and being equally merry in his mirth and his gravity. We remember the irresistible effect, which his reception of a beating from the master used to have upon us all. His gesticulations of agony were so abrupt, varied, and extravagant, that the master and the boys used to be equally perplexed,-the latter how to keep themselves from laughing out loud, and the former whether to take it as something extremely wretched or contemptuous. Either expression was equally unusual in a school so well attempered as ours. He was found out at last, and compelled to take care of his jokes. His gravity, however, was under suspicion to the last. When the master was about to retire from his office, he received, for an exercise, a set of Latin verses from him, in which there was a pathetic adieu, apostrophizing him under the title of "Reverende Magister." The old gentleman, not much accustomed to the melting mood at any time, or to the dry one often, turned round to him with a face of ludicrous gratitude, and said "Thank'ye, P." He used to perplex him also, as well as us all, by taking advantage of a permission we had of being facetious in verse-making, and giving up the most extravagant versions of English nursery-songs, such as Jack and Gill, and When I was a bachelor. Like all young wits who are scholars, he liked to give a ludicrous dignity to common-places by the gravity of a learned language. He kept his tea and sugar memorandums in Latin; used to call out for the boy who kept a door, under the title of Janitor Aulæ; and gave us a little pocket edition of Buchanan, which we have now by us, as a pledge and MONUMENT of his friendship," piguus et monumentum." He said of a fellow-wag, who was accustomed to exaggerate, "When so and so relates a story, you must multiply by hundreds, divide by thousands, and make allowance in the quotient for oriental grandeur." The same spirit accompanied him to college, where it is understood he might have got what classical honours he pleased, had not the gravity of his answers at examination been questionable. He then went into orders, and became remarkable for the dignity of his voice and manner in the pulpit, while he retained all the jocose part of his character among his friends. "What words" (literally) "have we not heard at the Mermaid ?”— No man ever got up a little festive meeting with a more orthodox grace. If port was not liked by any one, he found a bottle of claret by his plate; and we shall always retain a grateful recollection of his olives. It is a fault sometimes found with wits, and justly, that their $ 66 animals spirits carry them away from a proper attentiveness to others. This never was his case. He had a handsome faculty, not only of being pleasant himself, but of extracting all that could be got out of others, To strangers he would sometimes be more disconcerting, like Swift; to whose face, by the way, he bore some resemblance, if, the Dean's picture is like in Sharpe's edition of the Spectator, He turned round once upon a man in Holborn, and asked him with an air of zealous appeal, whether he had ever injured his wife, and family; upon which the astonished passenger declaring he had not; " Then, Sir," said he, "I will thank you, another time, not to tread my shoe down at heel." There was a huge fellow one evening making a great noise in a coffeehouse, about à prize os he bad seen. "I have heard of the carcase," says R. The carcase;ories the other, with a sort of triumph of knowledge its alive, Sin; its alive; and live bodies are not called carcases. Good,' says the other, looking at him," but I presume they may deserve the name.", Ile, said this with SQ indifferent and yet so particulae an air, that neither the man could be offended, or the company refrain from laughing. At another, time, being in the cider cellar in Maiden-lane, and one of our party having said something in Latio, without the least intention of being overheard, a military gentleman, somewhat irritable with having more wine than wit, said out loud, that he did not conceive a public room u fit place to talk Latin in. We forget what our school-fellow said to this; but the consequence of, bis enlisting the company on our side with his jukes, that the captain proposed to give him his address. "Sir says P. with great gravity, f you need not trouble yourself with a specimen I never had any doubt of your being a man of ads dress. 45 Sir,"returned the captain more vehemently, his voice a little titubating with wine You will not then take my address 2" Oh, excuse me, Sir, replied, the other, I do take it infinitely; and all the rest of us take it." By this time, the amusement of the audience had much increased. Sir!' repeated the of froer half rising from his seat, and tumbling a little towards him with pipe in hand and angry wonder in his eye-I say, Sir, do you mean to say, Sir, you know what I mean I mean to say, Sir, I'll give you my address; that's what I'mean." But, Sir," retorted our inflexible companion, you must allow me to say that your liberality is really -superfluous; since to confess the truth, I really don't at all approve of your address. At this, the tottering man, (who you might see by his face was good humoured enough, and worth being parried in this way by a gentleman) staggered up to his antagonist, and held out his -hand to him, declaring he was one of the pleasantest fellows he ever met with in the whole course of his life, and nothing should induce him to quarrel with him, .... ... .... 66 66 I We do not profess any practical science in meals. Those who do -will despise us at once, when they hear that we prefer breakfast and tea to dinner, and that by breakfast we mean a very common one. But we know what belongs to a meal. There was a lay-schoolfellow of ours, who was always proposing to treat some of us at a tavern; |