It may, perhaps, be in your breast,
I some one else might have address'd,
Communicating this my plan
To an experienc'd naval man;

But sailors, Sir, will always scout it ;
They won't, who nothing know about it:
This feeling makes me send to you;
Doubt it who will, Sir, this is true.

I am, great King!

Your Majesty's most devoted humble servant,

ROBERT FULTON

ME

TO A MISER.

[From the Morning Chronicle, Aug. 3.]

EN say you are wealthy, but falsely, I'm sure,
And thus can I prove it, my friend;

You have not a penny to give to the poor,
Nor have you a penny to spend.

You keep, it is true, an abundance of pelf;
But that's for your heirs, it is not for yourself.

THE UNDERTAKER'S BLUNDER

A TRUE TALE.

[From the British Press, Aug. 3.]

IN Derby died lately, poor dear Mistress Young,

IN

An excellent woman as ever was seen;

On her husband and servants she toil'd with her tongue, And kept them in order; and kept her house clean.

Now, poor dear Mistress Young, having got rather old,
That is, between fifty and sixty I wot,

Could no longer breathe-therefore, no longer scold-
For Death stuff'd his stopper down Mistress Young's

throat!

When

THE UNDERTAKER'S BLUNDer.

When dumb-to the dark undertaker was sent,
With orders to cover her up very soon;

And tell on the plate from the wide world she went
To the narrow world on the eleventh of June.

But this fellow, so stupid, was sure never fit,
Not even in Derby, to live by the dead;
For he put on the plate, Mary Young obüt

The fourteenth of June, of the eleventh instead.
With this blundering mistake, overdating her date,
The coffin for dear Mistress Young was sent home→→
Into which she was popp'd, by the mark on her plate,
Just two days à priori her death-day was come.

1

Now, it must be confess'd, it would look rather queer
To bury a lady the day ere she died!

So the plate must be alter'd, to make it appear,

293

"T was not meant prematurely the lady to hide. So to scraping, and rasing, and punching, they fel, While discons' late relations all stood by to weep; And with punching and rasing, most wond'rous to tell, They awoke Mistress Young from her death-looking sleep. Then she scolded amain, and she scolded againAnd admir'd what the devil they all were about ! She protested to God, all their labour was vain, For she would not be buried till life's flame went out. And she rav'd all that day-but her spirit, so vext

At the thought of their wicked and hellish design,
Could not bear her out longer-and, lo! on the next,
She was forc'd, in good earnest, her breath to resigu.

Then no rasings were needful, the plate turn'd out right;
The doleful death-bell does most dismally sound;
In her coffin they screw'd poor dear Mistress Young tight,
And gently they lower'd her into the ground..;

REMARKS ON A JOURNEY TO SCOTLAND.

SIR,

As

[From the General Evening Post, Aug. 3.]

TO THE EDITOR.

S I was some time since travelling down to the north, a portfolio was brought to me by the waiter at an inn, where I stopped to change horses, with a request that I would deliver it to an elderly gentleman, should I chance to overtake him, who had left it behind him there a few minutes before I arrived. As, however, I had not the fortune to overtake the gentleman, and have never been able to trace him, I opened the portfolio a short time ago, with a view of discovering the owner by its contents. In this object I was disappointed; but I found amongst its contents some speculations, so new and curious, that I cannot help feeling a wish that the public may, through the medium of your paper, be informed of them, whilst at the same time such a publication may give to the owner an opportunity of reclaiming his property. The first sheet I examined, contained "Remarks on a Journey to Scotland, relative to the effects of my Bill;" of which remarks, the following extracts may serve to give some idea :—

"Three miles on this (the Scotch) side of Barnet, ,met the old Stamford Fly, eighteen outsides."

"Four P. M. Biggleswade, N. one mile, York Highflyer, boxes on top ten inches by observation, above Act. Q. Whether my quadrant is correct?" "Six o'clock-Passenger driving Edinburgh mail." "Broad-wheel waggons, enormous weights, wheels conic sections. Q. Whether parabolic or hyperbolic?"

Several sheets were filled with similar notes, of which the above is a sufficient specimen. I found also what appeared to be minutes of a proceeding at the Board of Agriculture, and a project for a British Herring Fishery

REMARKS ON A JOURNEY TO SCOTLAND. 295

Fishery at John-o'Groat's House. But by far the most curious and interesting paper is entitled, "An Essay on the Utility of soft Paper, and a Project for extending its Use to all the Necessaries of Life." This Essay being fairly and carefully written out, apparently for the press, the singularity of the title induced me to give it an attentive perusal, and I was much gratified by finding it contained matter equally new, curious, and important. After expatiating at some length on the great advantages which the nation has experienced by the substitution of paper for coin, the unknown author proceeds to develope a plan for substituting this valuable substance in the room of all, or the greater part of those bulky and expensive articles called necessaries of life; for, as he says, bread, beef, pork, and mutton, being very costly, not only in the production, but in the transit from place to place, by substituting paper, under proper regulations, which is cheaper, and easily circulates from hand to hand, or from hand to mouth, not only a prodigious saving of labour will be the result, but the whole of our parochial taxes may be saved, except such as are levied for the repair of roads (for which, says the author, see my Bill). Now, Sir, although such a scheme may appear a little visionary to those who still obstinately reject the ideal or immaterial hypothesis of Berkeley; yet to me it appears perfectly satisfactory, being convinced that all those substances are merely impressions upon the mind; that paper representing them, may produce the same impressions; and that a note issued by the Treasury, bearing the inscription, "I promise to give the bearer a pound of bread," may, to those who are not prejudiced, answer all the purposes of satisfying hunger. Nor can any thing be more reasonable, seeing that I pay my butcher with paper, purporting to be convertible into so many pounds sterling, but which pounds no one will give him for the paper,

if he in return furnishes me with paper bearing the inscription of so many pounds of meat; for as the paper, not convertible into money, by the confidence which it bears, circulates with all the freedom of money through the body politic, why should not paper, the representative of beef, circulate in like manner through the body natural? for it would be extraordinary indeed, should the body or belly refuse to the mind of the same men, that confidence which every man places in the merest stranger to him.

I regret much that I cannot, within the limits of a letter, more fully explain the system; I shall, however, unless this should bring me acquainted with the author, give his lucubrations at length to the world. I cannot, however, close this account, without just hinting at one or two other features of the system. One is a proposal to save brick and mortar by building houses of paper, of which several successful experiments are said to have been made in the city. Thus, Sir, it is interesting to a philosophic mind to observe, that the amusements of childhood often become the serious occupations of advanced life; but the most pleasing part of the plan is an admirable scheme for a paper war, and an infallible method of subduing all our foes by means of paper bullets.

Enough has been said, I flatter myself, to show that I am in possession of a very valuable secret. My only fear at present is, that the French in this, as in some other projects, are beforehand with us; and, indeed, I strongly suspect they have already reduced it to practice, and that their army in Portugal has, for some months past, been fed and clothed with paper. Sir, your most obedient servant,

Threadneedle Street, July 15.

I am,

PAPIRIUS.

JEU