Page images
PDF
EPUB

Miscellanies.

A CURIOUS WAGER.-There is a certain degree of whim in some of the wagers we find recorded in the newspapers, that, however absurd the bettors may appear, a smile is excited perforce. In the year 1724, two gentlemen, full of money, and destitute of wit, had a dispute respecting the quantity that might be eaten at one meal. This ended in the bet of £5. proposed by one of them, that himself and another would eat a bushel of tripe, and drink four bottles of wine, within an hour. The parties met at Islington, where the tripe was produced, and the wine displayed: nothing remained but the introduction of the another; that another, gentle reader, proved a sharp-set bear, who fully justified his friend's prognostic, with the tripe diluted by three bottles of wine poured on it.-Malcomb's Anecdotes.

In the year 1776 a Bill was introduced into the House of Commons, for the better watching of the Metropolis; in order to effect which object, one of the clauses went to propose that watchmen should be compelled to sleep by day. Lord Nugent, with admirable humour, got up, and desired that " he might be personally included in the provisions of the Bill, being frequently so tormented with the gout as to be unable to sleep either by day or night."

M. d'Elbene was enthusiastically fond of epic poetry. He called one day on Menage, and in a very pressing manner, intreated that he would do him a favour-the favour was to write an epic poem !

A gentleman remarkably fond of intelligence, meeting a courtier, asked, "What news?" "Why Sir," replied he, “there are forty thousand men risen to-day." "To what end," said the first, "and what do they intend?" " Why, to go to bed at night,” answered he.

Wanted, a Sexton for the parish of Harleigh. He must be of a grave disposition, and have no connection with resurrection men.- -This notice appeared in a provincial paper.

"Where did you learn wisdom?" said Diogenes to a wise man- "From the blind (said he), who try the path with a stick before they tread on it."

Buck, the player at York, was asked how he came to turn his

coat twice, he replied, smartly-one good turn deserv'd another!

6.

CURIOUS ADVERTISEMENT.-Smith and Bolton, of Indianapolis, advertise ten dollars reward, for "a superfine scoundrel, who calls himself Matthew Patrick, printer," and whom they describe as about five feet four or five inches high-an ackonwledged liar, a proven villain, sandy-haired, red-faced, blue-eyed, longnosed, stoop-shouldered, gallows-looking, pretendingly-learned, stultified, woman-hated, blue-coated, black-vested, grey-pantalooned, dandy-dressed, deceiver-one of those pestiferous insects that often take their flight into the western country, destroying as they go the herbage of honesty, and poisoning the foliage of the innocent and unsuspecting."-Trenton True American..

A curious affair occurred about two years ago, at a small church in Wales. The parson having a tame goat, which followed him to the church, and sat under the pulpit, the animal was so struck with the nodding of a drowsy Cambrian, who sat opposite to him, that taking the frequent inclinations of his head for a challenge to combat, he made a butt at his supposed antagonist, who, not perceiving whence the blow proceeded, struck the person next to him. The parson, (who was also of the quorum) would have committed the drowsy Cambrian, when brought before him next day, especially as the latter had been convicted of reading in and commenting on the newspapers: but as it was proved by several witnesses, that his goat was the aggressor, he observed, that if the people tespised tivine service, it would pe no wunder if peasts of the field were to rise upon all the chakopins in the country!

A Lady having the misfortune to have her husband hang himself on an apple tree, the wife of a neigbour immediately came to beg a branch of that tree, to have it grafted into one in her own orchard, "for who knows (she said) but it may bear the same kind of fruit ?"

COUNCIL'S OPINION.-An eminent barrister had, some years ago, a case sent to him for an opinion. The case stated was the most preposterous and improbable that ever occurred to the mind of man, and concluded by asking, Whether, under such circumstanees, action would lie? He took his pen, and wrote"Yes, if the witnesses will lie too;" but not otherwise.

A gentleman travelling in Wales, had his attention suddenly arrested by the appearance of a bull drawing a cart, led by an An honest Welchman passing at the same time, archly exclaimed, "Ah! poor John Bull, hur is sorry to see hur follow such company."

ass.

Judge Burnet being one day applied to by an old farmer in his neighbourhood for his advice in a law-suit, he heard his case with great patience, and then asked him whether he ever put

VOL. II.

[ocr errors]

"I hope I have

Why than take

into the lottery? "No, Sir," says the farmer, too much prudence than to run such risks." my advice, my good friend, and suffer any inconvenience sooner than go to law, as the chances are more against you there than in the lottery."

A getleman having a remarkably bad breath, was met by a celebrated Irish wit at Lucan's coffeee-house, who asked him where he had been? "I have been taking the air this morning," says he, "which was rather disagreeable too, as I had a d—d north wind full in my face all the time." Come, come," says the wit, "don't you complain; by G-d, the north wind had the worst of it."

[ocr errors]

Pytheas, the daughter of Aristotle, being asked which was the most beautiful colour, made answer, that of modesty.

Dr. Parr is not very delicate in the choice of his expressions, when heated by argument or contradiction. He once called a clergyman a fool, who, indeed, was little better. The clergyman said, he would complain of this usage to the Bishop. "Do," said the Doctor, "and my Lord Bishop will confirm you."

At a late assize in Somersetshire, the court was extremely crowded with persons anxious to hear a case of great interest, which stood first on the list. The Judge entered and taking his seat, waited till the Crier should open the court. No voice, however, was heard-all was silent suspense. At length the Judge rose up-"Where is the Crier-what is he about that he doesn't open the court?" A countryman, pressing forward among the crowd, exclaimed-" He's not here; his wife's dead, my Lord-he can't cry to day."

A young woman meeting a learned Doctor, in the square of a certain town, asked him where she might find a shopkeeper whom she wanted. The Doctor gave the following direction :"Move your pedestrian digits along the diagonal of this rectangle, in a line perpendicular to the earth's equator, till you arrive at the junction of the two sides. Diverge then to the left, at right angles-Perge for about fifty paces in that quadrangle, and you will have occular demonstration of him, standing in an edifice for the purpose of illumination."

Do not expect too much from your friend. If you take a friend, you must take him with those frailties which are common to humanity; and from which he will not be fully delivered till mortality is swallowed up in life. The most correct understanding has its prejudices; the finest temper has its irregularities ; and in friendship, a certain strength of mind is necessary, to rise above those mere accidents of character, and to settle on excellencies which are unaffected by circumstance.

Poetry.

PALMYRA; OR, TADMOR IN THE DESERT.

Mr. Editor,

I shall feel obliged if you will insert the following in your Gleaner, thinking it not inferior, in some parts, to the Palmyra which appeared in No. 1, Vol. II.

Your obedient servant,

October 31, 1822.

OXONIENSIS.

Spirit of greatness! clad in gorgeous gloom,
Still thou art brooding o'er thy Tadmor's tomb
'Mid these vast fabrics, in their huge decay,
Where silence weeps, the mind still owns thy sway;
Else whence this breathless awe, which mocks controul,
This depth of stillness, and this pause of soul?—
As round some monarch, hurled from lofty state,
Yet e'en though crownless, powerless, hopeless,―great.
Proud progeny of mightiness gone by!

Ye yet disdain all desolate to lie :

Still grandeur lifts his furrowed brow sublime
In tottering majesty, and frowns on time :-
Still beauty's shades-still giant shapes of might,
In Græcia's pure magnificense bedight,
Awe from their ken the grimness of the wild,
Where, scarred at her own horror, never smiled
Benignant nature. Art here raised her throne,
That she might reign stupendously alone.
As flames the beacon fire more boldly bright
When not a star illumes the black of night ;-
So deep embosom'd 'mid the cheerless waste,
In sightlier splendour, rich, yet richly chaste,
Show'd fair Palmyra ;-still so passing fair,
You scarce can deem that desolation's there :
It seems no wreck, but arts fantastic play,
Peerless in downfall,-perfect in decay.

The eye roams wilder'd through a wondrous maze,
Which spreads and thickens on the ravish'd gaze :

Crowd moontide glories, twilight, midnight shades,
Pillars, and palaces, and colonnades

Fragments and sculptures blended 'mid the throng,
Princely piazzas stretching all along,

Arches high-sweeping, like the sky-born bow,
And fanes that seem their matchlessness to know :-
While wraps the whole in witching wide embrace
A circumambient atmosphere of grace.

How joys the soul dispread amid this scene;
She works tumultuous, or she swells serene :-
Now hovers here ;-now sweeps athwart the vast ;-
Now shoots her lightning speed down, down the past
Hears commerce roll her torrents from afar,
Or dread Zenobia pour the tide of war :-
Then, borne on stronger pinion, meets the age
When Salem gloried in that royal sage

Who bade lone Tadmor, proud at his behest,
To rise, an island on the ocean's breast-

But still the godlike thought triumphant reigns,
That whilst all matter fails, the soul remains ;
That all these high imaginings combine

To prove her boundless, deathless, and divine.

OXONIENSIS.

ON THE FALLING LEAF.

How dubious hangs the tender leaf,
When Autumn shakes the sceptre near;

It seems to sigh-it seems to weep,
And pray her yet awhile to spare.

Its little form, so near undone

Before it feels the dreaded blow:
So man, whose course is almost run,
Moves tottering o'er the grave below:

When life is scarcely worth a breath
(Whose nerves are trem'lous and decay'd),
Doth supplicate the monster Death

Longer to spare his scythe's red blade.

The leaf falls down, is seen no more,
By winds far driven to its lot;
Man sinks within th' appointed shore,
By all but greedy worms forgot.

« PreviousContinue »