But gentlemen, it is difficult to smile with an aching heart; it is ill jesting when our deepest sympathies are awakened. My client's hopes and prospects are ruined ; and it is no figure of speech to say that her occupation is gone indeed. The bill is down — but there is no tenant. Eligible single gentlemen pass and repass — but there is no invitation for them to inquire within, or without. All is gloom and silence in the house; even the voice of the child is hushed ; his infant sports are disregarded when his mother weeps; his “alley tors” and his “commoneys” are alike neglected; he forgets the long familiar cry of “knuckle down”, and at tip cheese, or odd and even, his hand is out. But Pickwick, gentlemen, Pickwick, the ruthless destroyer of this domestic oasis in the desert of Goswell-street — Pickwick, who comes before you to-day with his heartless tomato sauce and warming pans — Pickwick still rears his head with unblushing effrontery, and gazes without a sigh on the ruin he has made. Damages, gentlemen - heavy damages is the only punishment with which you can visit him; the only recompense you can award to my client. And for those damages she now appeals to an enlightened, a high-minded, a right-feeling, a conscientious, a dispassionate, a sympathising, a contemplative jury of her civilized countrymen.



Mr. H. Ha! steward, how are you, my old boy? How do things go on at home ?

Steward. Bad enough, your honor; the magpie's dead.
Mr. H. Poor mag ! so he's gone. How came he to die ?
Steward. Over-ate himself, sir.

Mr. H. Did he, faith! a greedy dog ; why, what did he get he liked so well ?

Steward. Horse-flesh, sir; he died of eating horse-flesh.

Mr. H. How came he to get so much horse-flesh ?
Steward. All your father's horses, sir.
Mr. H. What! are they dead, too ?
Steward. Ay, sir; they died of over-work.
Mr. H. And why were they over-worked, pray ?
Steward. To carry water, sir.
Mr. H. To carry water! and what were they carrying water for ?
Steward. Sure, sir, to put out the fire.
Mr. H. Fire ! what fire ?

Steward. Oh, sir, your father's house is burned down to the ground.

Mr. H. My father's house burned down! and how came it set on fire ?

Steward. I think, sir, it must have been the torches.
Mr. H. Torches ! what torches ?
Steward. At your mother's funeral.
Mr. H. My mother dead!
Steward. Ah, poor lady, she never looked up after it.
Mr. H. After what ?
Steward. The loss of your father.
Mr. H. My father gone, too?

Steward. Yes, poor gentleman; he took to his bed as soon as he heard of it.

Mr. H. Heard of what ?
Steward. The bad news, sir ; and please your honor.
Mr. H. What! more miseries ! more bad news ?

Steward. Yes sir, your bank has failed, and your credit is lost, and you are not worth a shilling in the world. I made bold, sir, to come to wait on you about it, for I thought you would like to hear the news.



HODGE, a poor honest country lout,

Not overstocked with learning, Chanced, on a summer's eve, to meet

The vicar, home returning.

“Ah! master Hodge,” the vicar cried,

“What still as wise as ever ? The people in the village say

That you are wondrous clever.”

“Why, master parson, as to that,

I beg you'll right conceive me; I do na brag, but yet I know

A thing or two, believe me.”

“We'll try your skill,” the parson cried,

“For learning what digestion : And this you'll prove, or right or wrong,

By solving me a question :

“ Noah of old three babies had,

Or grown-up children rather;
Shem, Ham, and Japhet, they were called :

Now, who was Japhet's father ?”

“Rat it ! ” cried Hodge, and scratch'd his head,

“ That does my wits belabor : But howsomde’er, I'll homeward run,

And ax old Giles, my neighbor.”

To Giles he went, and put the case,

With circumspect intention : “Thou fool,” cried Giles, “I'll make it clear

To thy dull comprehension.

“ Three children has Tom Long, the smith,

Or cattle-doctor rather ;
Tom, Dick, and Harry, they are called :

Now, who is Harry's father?”.

“Ha! ha! I have it,” Hodge replied,

Right well I know your lingo ;
Who's Harry's father ? stop - here goes —

Why Tom Long Smith, by jingo !”

Away he ran to find the priest

With all his might and main, Who with good humor instant put

The question once again :

“Noah of old three babies had,

Or grown-up children rather;
Shem, Ham, and Japhet, they were called :

Now, who was Japhet's father ?”

“I have it now,” Hodge grinning cried,

“ I'll answer like a proctor; Who's Japhet's father ? now I know;

Why, Tom Long Smith, the doctor!”





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An Exhortation to the stide of the


Ancient Eloquence
An Exhortation to the Study of Eloquence . . . Cicero 33
Character of Fox

Hazlitt 50
Character of Pitt

· · · Robertson 52

. . Wirt 48
Defects in the Usual Course of Elocutionary Instruction . Rush 28
England and America

. Greenbank's Lectures 66
Eulogium of Antoinette, the late Queen of France . . Burke 53
Gold .

. . Harris 73
Infatuation of Mankind with Regard to the Things of Time Kirwan 74
Indian Eloquence .

· · Greenbank's Lectures 69
Insignificance of this World . . . . Chalmers 78
Liberty and Slavery . . . : : Sterne

. Greenbank's Lectures 70
On Lord Byron's Lines upon the Field of Waterloo

of Waterloo . Knowles 57
On Milton · ·

Channing 54
On Pronunciation or Delivery . . . . Blair 27
On Public Preaching . . . . . Gregory
On the Elocution of the Pulpit

. Fordyce 39
On Theatrical Manner ..

Greenbank 44
On the English Clergy, and Popular Preachers

Goldsmith 36
Reading Aloud .

Chambers 29
Remarks on Preaching

Burgh 41
Remarkable Faults of Bad Speakers ... Cresollius 47
Taxes . .

Brougham 71
The Broken Heart . . . . . Irving 61
The Dying Infidel .


. Saurin 45
The Eulogium of the Perfect Speaker

. Anon. 35
The Horrors of War .

Hall 75
The Idiot . . . . Blackwood's Magazine
The Voyage . . . . . . Irving 58

In Commemoration of the Lives and Services of John Adams

and Thomas Jefferson . . . Webster 110
In Defence of Captain Baillie . . . . Erskine
In Defence of Finnerty . . . . Curran 103
In Reproof of Pitt .

. Horace Walpole 81

afterwards Lord Chatham 82
Invective against Hastings

. . Sheridan 91

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