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For myself, I shall always obey your commands;
I remain, &c. &c. F. B-RD-TT. Mr. G. P. and Mr. R. H.
THE SAILOR'S CREED.
[From the same, July 31.] AS $ a Sailor, while working my passage through life,
Many hands I with grief oft remark, Dishearten'd at failures in this scene of strife,
In despair let chance pilot their bark.
Stupify'd they relinquish the oar:
Averse to our hopes the wind veer'd,
On our starboard-side breakers appear'd.
out to me, • All is over our efforts are vain ! In less than a glass, at the bottom, Jack, we
Shall be strangers to fear, hope, or pain !
"The wind still against us continues to blow;
For the leak, messmate, gains on us fast!""Well, brother," said I," with fear yield not the ghost, If so be as how danger you scan;
Never strike to despair, but stand firm to your post,
My words were not slighted; with pleasure I found
The misfortunes of life, which so many bewail,
Be Reason our helm, Resolution our sail;
Then smoothly our vessel will scud with the breeze,
Though tempests assailing, sometimes may chase ease,
And thus, when the voice of base faction is loud,
With Bt, Tr -n's sons will, in trembling dismay, View the Albion weather the storm.
THE PERFECT AGREEMENT.
[From the British Press, Aug. 2.]
CRIED a wealthy old Cit t'other day to his Wife,
"The times may be bad-but for me-on my life, I laugh at these men who have fail'd-one and allFor I says that the weakest must go to the wall."
"And I," said his Lady,
A BINDER of Books-a small Volume of Love
Address'd a rich Widow in suit most profound : "Fair Lady, if you but my courtship approve,
You will find me well letter'd and handsomely bound. "That style," cried the Widow, “ my Library meets— For I hear that your Works took but poorly-in Sheets." UDOLPHO
ON A CELEBRATED BOOK OF COOKERY.
IN Authoress, of culinary fame,
Skill'd in the art which practice long had taught her, In cooking greens, if well you'd do the same, "boil them in cold water ""
Most wisely bids you
LONG AND SHORT HORNED BREEDERS.
Our fathers (their like we shall ne'er see again),.
Then success to John Bull, and his horns, which are strong,
TRICKS OF NEWSMEN.
TO THE EDITOR OF THE MORNING POST.
IAM afraid you must do me the favour to provide me with another Newsman; the person who has hitherto supplied me with papers I have long known to be an idle fellow and a drunkard; but, for the sake of his large family, mere compassion has induced me to persevere in employing him. But now, Sir, besides going down in the world, he has turned politician it seems, and quite an arrant patriot, at least I judge so from a certain twist he has taken in the way of forwarding my newspapers. It was only this morning that he had the impudence to send me down a certain "Talent" Journal, instead of your decent, steady Morning Post; and, to complete the joke, the fellow was wise enough to stick a scrap of writingpaper between the folds, half covered with stains of tobacco and porter, on which he had contrived to scratch, in a scarce legible hand,
"SIR-Hope you'll excuse me sending you that d-mn-d Post any longer-no sober Gemman can bear to read it. I gives you our to-day, and you'll find a particular good account of WELSLY, and of great use to the cause. Sir, am yours,
When we had done laughing at this characteristic puff, I gave the paper to my friend Dr. Solid, who happened to be present (my wife, poor woman, being
troubled with a flatulency, had sent for him); but all the account the good Doctor could give us of " Welsly" was, that in one part of the paper there appeared to be a pass in the rear of his army, which the French would find absolutely impregnable; and in another part of the same' Journal, WELSLY," Sir, was transformed into a chess-player, who knew that he "must be finally check-mated," move in what direction he pleased.
Dr. S. appeared to muse for a few seconds, and then, raising his spectacles on his forehead, he turned
"My good friend, Hopeful, it seems passing strange that such things should be in such a country as this; but I have for some time observed, and you know I am a pretty close observer, that the Editors of two or three of the London Journals have of late been afflicted with a train of disorders, which, on differentoccasions, and in different constitutions, assume a variety of aspects:-the leading diagnostic strikes me to be, a depression of spirits, accompanied by frequent eructations of foul wind-an utter loathing of all wholesome and nutritious aliment, or a speedy rejection of it, if accidentally swallowed-a voracious craving for all sorts of acid, bitter, and even bony substances, utterly indigestible by any healthy stomach-together with a perpetual fretfulness, peevishness, and moroseness, venting itself in passionate exclamations on things in general, but more particularly on public affairs, and in strange contradictions of their own stories. In short, many of the symptoms are those of mere dyspepsia; but there are numberless anomalies which I have not yet mentioned, and for which, in truth, I am at a loss to account. A curious coincidence in point of time is, that the complaint never appeared to take a serious turn until the hopes of the Spaniards began to revive, and espe