A CURIOUS LOVE LETTER,

TO A LADY.

Most amiable Madam,

AFTER a long consideration of the great reputation, that you have in this nation; for my own preservation, I have a great inclination to become your relation: And to give demonstration of this my estimation, without equivocation, I am making preparation, by a speedy navigation, to remove my habitation, to a nearer situation, for to pay you adoration, for the sake of conversation.

And if this my declaration, may but find your approbation, it will impose an obligation, without dissimulation, from generation to generation upon TIMOTHY OBSECRATION.

To which the Lady sent the following Answer. Man of Ostentation,

I am filled with admiration, and fired with indignation, at your fulsome adulation, and deceitful laudation. I (to your mortification) have a great detestation, to the constant tribulation, and usual vexation, of a conjugal station, and to hymen's abomination, love free evagation, without refranation, and have mighty delectation, in every recreation, sans secret reservation.

You may save your versification, (devoid of adoration) your intended peregrination, or further application, for they will meet with frustration.

Know my solemn protestation, my firm asseveration, and final adjudication, is to make no astipulation, or dull annexation, with a man not worth appellation, of age for regeneration.

When I incline to fornication, my plan of operation, is with a man of penetration, of vigorous corporation, a lover of association, and pleasing redintegration, yielding to gubernation; a despiser

of recrimination, and all defamation, ready ap vindication, without tergiversation.

I here send my negation, to your confabulation, all manner of replication, or any visitation, upon pain of castration, perhaps amputation, or total ruination; and leaving you to meditation, on all words ending in a-ti-on till you exhaust the termination, I without alteration, for my own conservation, sweet pacification, and real consolation, shall continue my fixration, in perpetual aberration, while there's any animation, in

CONSTANTIA VARIATION.

THE SMUGGLER.

"TWAS one morn, when the wind from the northward blew keenly,

While sullenly roar'd the big waves of the main, A fam'd smuggler, Will Watch, kiss'd his Sue then serenely,

Took helm, and to sea boldly steer'd out again. Will had promis'd his Sue that this trip, if well ended,

Shou'd coil up his hopes, and he'd anchor ashore; When his pockets were lin'd, why his life should be mended;

The laws he had broken, he'd never break mor

His sea-boat was trim, made her port, took her lading,

Then Will stood for home, reach'd the offing,

and cried,

This night, (if I've luck,) furls the sails of my trading;

In dock I can lay, serve a friend too beside. Will lay too 'till the night came on, darksome and dreary;

To croud ev'ry sail then he pip'd up each hand;

But a signal soon spied, ('twas a prospect uncheery,)

A signal that warn'd him to bear from the land.

The Philistines are out, (cries Will,) well, take no heed on't:

Attack'd who's the man that will flinch from his

gun?

Shou'd my head be blown off, I shall ne'er feel the need on't,

We'll fight while we can, when we can't, boys, we'll run.

Through the haze of the night a bright flash now appearing,

Oh! Oh! cries Will Watch, the Philistines bear down;

Bear a hand, my tight lads, e'er we think about sheering:

One broadside pour in, shou'd we swim, boys, or drown.

But shou'd I be popp'd off; you, my mates, left behind me,

Regard my last words, see 'em kindly obey'd; Let no stone mark the spot; and my friends, do you mind me,

Near the beach is the grave where Will Watch would be laid.

Poor Will's yarn was spun out, for a bullet next minute,

Laid him low on the deck, and he never spoke

more.

His bold crew fought the brig while a shot remain'd

in it;

Then sheer'd--and Will's hulk to his Susan they bore.

In the dead of the night his last wish was complied

with;

To few known his grave, and to few known his

end;

He was borne to the earth by the crew that he died with,

He'd the tears of his Susan, the prayers of each

friend.

Near his grave dash the billows, the winds loudly bellow;

Yon ash, struck with lightning, points out the cold bed

Where Will Watch, the bold smuggler, that fam'd lawless fellow,

Once fear'd, now forgot, sleeps in peace with the dead.

*****

FRIEND OF MY SOUL.

FRIEND of my Soul! this Goblet sip
"Twill chace thy pensive tear;
'Tis not so sweet as Woman's lip,
But oh! 'tis more sincere :
Like her delusive beam,

"Twill steal away thy mind, But like affection's dream,

It leaves no sting behind.

Come, twine the wreath, thy brows to shade,
These flowers were cull'd at noon,
Like woman's love, the rose will fade,
But ah! not half so soon;

For tho' the flower's decay'd,
It's fragrance is not o'er;

But once when love's betray'd,
The heart can bloom no more.

ANECDOTES.

I.

AT the close of the American war, as a noble lord, of high naval character, was returning home

to his family, after various escapes from danger, he was detained a day at Holyhead by contrary winds. Reading in a summer house he heard the well known sound of bullets whistling near him, he looked about, and found that two balls had just passed through the door close beside him; he looked out of the window, and saw two gentlemen who were just charging their pistols again, and, as he guessed that they had been shooting at a mark upon the door, he rushed out, and very civilly remonstrated with them, upon the imprudance of firing at the door of a house, without having previously examined whether any one was within side. One of them immediately answered, in a tone which proclamed at once his disposition and his country----" Sir, I did not know you were within there, and I don't know who you are now; but if I've given offence, I am willing," said he, holding out the ready-charg'd pistols, "to give you the satisfaction of a gentleman----take your

choice."

With his usual presence of mind, the noble lord seized hold of both the pistols, and said to his astonished countryman----" Do me the justice, Sir, to go into that summer-house, shut the door, and let me take two shots at you, then we shall be upon equal terms; and I shall be quite at your service to give or receive the satisfaction of a gentleman."

There was an air of drollery and of superiority in his manner, which, at once, struck and pleased the Hibernian----" Upon my conscience, Sir, I believe you are a very honest fellow," said he, looking at him earnestly in the face, "and I've a great mind to shake hands with you..--Will you only just tell me who you are?"

The nobleman told his name---a name dear to every Briton and every Irishman!

"I beg your pardon; and that's what no man ever accused me of doing before," cried the gallant Hibernian; "and, had I known who you were, I