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He fancies you'll think me an impudent eif,
In staying so long to exhibit myself.

Tol de rol, &c

ANECDOTE OF MR. ERSKINE. THE following declaration of Mr. Erskine, in a' late speech on the rights of juries, deserves the attention and imitation of all.- “ It was the first command,” said he, “ and counsel to my youth, always to do what my conscience told me to be my duty, and to leave the consequences to God. I shall carry with me the memory, and I hope the practice of this parental lesson to the grave. I have hitherto followed it, and have no reason to complain that the adherence to it has been even a temporal sacrifice; I have found it, on the contrary the road to prosperity and wealth, and I shall pointi it out as such to my children."

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ANECDOTE OF THE PRESENT DUKE OF

NORFOLK

SOME months ago, a worthy old clergyman in Cumberland, who had brought up a large family on 701. a year, being informed of the death of his rector, was advised to come to town,' and apply to the Bishop of LONDON, in whose gift the living was, for the next presentation. He followed the advice, and was directed to his lordship’s house, in St. James's-Square. By mistake he knocked at the next door, which is the Duke of NORFOLK"s; and enquiring of the servant if his master was at home, received an answer in the affirmative, but that he was then engaged. Tlx old gentleman requested

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the servant to go up and intreat his master to be at home to him, as his business was of much consequence.

The Duke with that urbanity which distinguishes him, on being informed a respectable looking old clergyman wished to speak to him, desired him to be introduced, and begged to know the occasion of his visit. “My lord,” said the old gentleman, “ the rector of is dead, and I was advised by my parishioners to come to town, and intreat the friendship and protection of your lordship. I have served the parish many years, and hope I have acquitted myself with propriety.'

-“ And pray, whom do you take me for, sir ?" said the Duke interrupting him. " The BISHOP of LONDON, my lord." His Grace immediately rang the bell, and a servant entering.--" John, who am I?”...". The Duke of NORFOLK, sir,”--" Good God!" said the curate, starting from the chair, “I humbly intreat your Grace's pardon, and assure you that nothing but my ignorance of the town could have occasioned such a mistake."--

Stop, stop, my good friend! you and I don't part thus---we must first take a glass together, and then see whether I can't shew you the way to the Bishop of LONDON's house." His Grace and the Curate took t'other bottle, found their way to the Bishop's---and the old gentleman left St. James'sSquare 3401, a year richer than he entered it.

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A PEEP AT THE FORTY THIEVES,

YOUR pardon, kind gentlefolk, pray,

But I'se callid on to roar out a song, Sirs ;
And when a man's call'd on, they say,

It's ill manners to make you wait long, Sirs;
So I'll e’en try my hand at a stave,
Tho' mayhap you may jeer me and how it,

But it's one of the best that I have,
And so now you shall hear all about it.

Rum ti, &c;. It isn't long sin I first com’d

Fra’ the north, and so you must needs think, Sirs, . I'se a lad that's not easily humm’d,

Unless it be when I'se in drink, Sirs ; And somehow, hdon't know which way,

But the folk up in town be so droll, Sirs, That I must ha' been drunk every day, For they humm’d me, by gum, one and all, Sirs.

Rum ti, &c. I wur ganging one night by the play,

Never heeding about it a pin, Sirs, When I fairly were carried away

Off my legs, by the croud getting in, Sirs. I shouted as loud as I cou'd,

And I tellid 'em I war’nt o' their party, But a lady insisted I shoud, And said, “ Push on, keep moving, my hearty."..

Rum ti, &c. “Heave a head !” says a sailor,

you lubbard," No odds about my being willing, So I com’d to a man in a cupboard,

Who bade me lug out my two shilling;
And while I wur groping about,

My money to find I declare, Sirs,
My pockets I found inside out
And the devil a penny was there, Sirs.

Rum ti, &c., The croud which before had so push'd,

Thinks I, dang you, push on now or never, For I didn't now mind being crush'd

And I got in for nothing quite clever.
The play wur soon ended, and then

Forty Thieves they com'd in all so funney
I suppose it were some of them men
As had diddled me out of my money:

Rum ti, &co.

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So in town as I'd noi long to stay,

I resolv'd to see all that I cou'd, Sirs, And I went once again to the play,

Where I paid for a seat, tho' I stood, Sirs;
Common Garden, I think, was the spot,

And some beautiful posies they shew there,
And if oft to come here was my lot,
I as oft would be tempted to go there.

Rum ti, &c. There wur one fellow walk'd on-to the stage,

Said he'd newly just com'd out o’ Yorkshire ; By gum, he put me in a rage,

He made game so of our country talk, Sirs.
Folk call'd him a comical lad,

But for what, I declare, I can't tell, Sirs,
I never seed nothing so bad;
I'd ha' done it---eye, better myself, Sirs.

Rum ti, &c.

THE WOUNDED HUSSAR: ALONE to the banks of the dark rolling Danube,

Fair Adelaid hy'd when the battle was o'er; Owhither, she cry'd, liast thou wander'd my lover,

Or here dost thou welter and bleed on the shore? What voice did I hear! 'twas my Henry that sigh’d,

All mournful she hasten'd, nor wander'd afar, When bleeding alone on the heath she descried, By the light of the moon, her poor wounded

hussar:

From his bosom that heav'd, the last torrent was

streaming, And pale was his visage, deep mark'd with a scar, And dim was that eye, once expressively beaming ,

That melted in love, and that kindled in war; How smit was poor Adelaid's heart at the sight i

How bitter she.wept o'er the victim of war!

“Hast thou come, my fond love, this last-sorrow -

ful night, To cheer the lone heart of thy wounded hussar.” “ Thou shalt live!” she reply'd, “ heaven's mercy

relieving, Each anguishing wound shall forbid me to,

mourn;" " Ah! no the last pang in my bosom is heaving,

No light of the morn shall to Henry return; Thou charmer of life, ever tender and true,

Ye babes of my love, that await me afar--." His falt'ring tongue scarcely murmur'd adieu, When he sunk in her arms, the poor wounded:

hussar!.

For my

THE TAR WHO WAS WOUNDED AT SEA.
I'M return'd from the ocean again, my brave boys,,

And the rage of the battle is o'er;
Yet Time, the dispencer of sorrows and joys,
No ease to my breast can restore.

limb was lopt off, ah! how dreadful the

smart! And I wander by Fortune's decree; Let love then subsist in each feeling heart,

For the tar who was wounded at sea. When I parted with Sue, and for fame barter'di

love,
My anguish no words can explain;
But the Valiant once boarded, I rous'd up, by Jove,,
And forgot all my trouble and pain.
I fought with the foe till my splinters were torn,.

And they left me for dead, dire decree!
Altho' poor and helpless, still wanders forlorn,,

The tar who was wounded at sea.
With tender compassion regard his sad lot;

Who from duty and love would not swervos,

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