sentinel was at his proper post. This necessary duty performed, on his way back, he seated himself on the broken stump of an old beech, and beckoning the minstrel to his side, after a pause, said "'tis useless, my friend, to attempt resistance, when the hand of fate is on us. I am a ruined man, and have but one tie that now binds me to the world. That tie is soon to be for ever broken. You smile, but 'tis even so, and this night will be the last of my mortal pilgrimage. I have seen the storm-Spirit of Cader-Idris. He stood beside my couch in the greenwood, and while his dull heavy eye glared on me, with the expression of the sepulchre "woe! woe!" he uttered, "to the last of his race," and faded in mist from my sight." His forebodings were but too true-an English force under Sir Scroope Barnard was rapidly advancing. He had scarcely with his associate regained his tent, when the storm which had hovered in the air, burst forth with resistless energy. Crash after crash, the thunder rattled among the mountains, and the oaks groaned heavily under each sweeping of the hollow blast. On a sudden the faint tones of a bugle were heard, then the clatter of armour, and the plunge of a heavy substance into the Towy. A sentinel rushed into the tent- our outposts are surprised," he exclaimed," and the main-body of the Southrons is advancing on us.' In an instant all was confusion, and Twm John Catty aware of the impending danger, hurried Elinor to a cave, situated high up in the greenwood. This was the only secret shelter that the fastnesses of Cardigan afford ed. The front was concealed by huge masses of rock, and so narrow as to admit only one person at a time, and even that one with considerable difficulty. The access to it from the bed of the Towy was hazardous, and the interiour small, being over-run with weeds, but open to the sky, so that a stranger by planting himself on the summit, might with ease overlook all who were within the cave. On returning to his foresters, after having carefully secluded Elinor and the Monk, in the recess, Twm John Catty ranged his band into two equal divisions, and as the English troops scrambled up the

crags, received them with a charge of arrows. But Sir Scroope Barnard had well disposed of his men, and gaining the heights, commanded a herald to proclaim free pardon to all but the outlaw leader. The offer was received with disdain; the whole band vowing never to desert him whilst a chance of freedom remained. "Forward then," said the British Commander, and the officers of the different companies issued their several orders; Grenadiers! stand fast on the left flank.-Dragoons! prepare to charge; double quick time; charge! Elinor meanwhile awaited the return of her husband, with the most heart-rending anxiety. Twice she dispatched the Monk to the front of the cave, to gain intelligence of his movements, and as he described the progress of the battle from the spot where he stood to view it, her heart sickened with apprehension. "Is he safe, father?" she said,

66

say that he is but safe, and I am content. "He is safe," replied the Friar," and bears him like a lion in the fray."-Hark!" interrupted the affrighted girl, " did you not hear a scream? Oh God! Oh God! they have murdered him." "It is the death-groan of an enemy; they have plunged his corpse into the Towy; and again--hah! he totters--he falls." "Who falls, who falls!" "Your husband, lady, but no-he rises again; "he stands like a rock on the broad ocean, while the bellowing waves of battle beat in vain against him. His foresters drop around him—the enemy press over their bodies; already they have gained the pass-now they ascend yon crag; now-Oh God! they come, they come." The English troops were, indeed, fast approaching, when Twm John Catty having ordered his foresters to fire the underwood, rushed faint and wounded into the cave. "Elinor, dearest Elinor," he exclaimed, "one last,-one parting kiss, and thenadieu for ever! With these words he clasped her in his arms; strained her to his bleeding breast, and climbed the craggy summit of the rock that overhung the recess. A brisk wind had by this time arisen, and the greenwood crackled and blazed in a thousand different directions. The British squadrons were panic-struck at the sight,

but the outlaw stood unawed on the crag, amid the hollow rumbling of the thunder; the crash of the blazing forest, and the deafening din of arms. Alone he stood, like the last man in the deluge, and his appearance, as the sable smoke thickened around him, seemed more than mortal. An English officer discerned him, and sword in hand, attempted to clamber up the precipice. "I see him,' cried a soldier from below, "Follow him then," said a commanding voice," he cannot escape us-seize him alive, and a hundred marks for his head."-" Alive," replied Twm John Catty, with a scornful laugh of defiance, "never, never," and attacked the foremost of the party with such unexpected readiness, that he lost his footing, and was dashed headlong down the declivity. The remainder closed around the outlaw. His sword broke in the encounter; the rock grew slippery with his blood; his brain wandered; his steps tottered; while the enemy rained blow after blow on his cuirass. On a sudden he paused to wipe his bloody brow. His strength seemed partially restored, and as he raised his broken sword for one last despairing effort, a sudden flash of lightning, attracted by the steel, struck him; he dropped into the cave, and fell dead at the feet of Elinor:

PARODY

published, the public had given to
Lord Byron the credit of this ode,which
was quite worthy of so distinguished
an author, and Captain Medwin with
Lieutenant Hill supported the error
by their assertions, and supposed
proofs. Many competitors for the hon-
or came forward, and the periodical
press was warmly engaged in canvass-
ing the pretensions of the claimants.
Among others it was ascribed to a
Doctor Marshall of Durham; for some
time the HOAX was successful, till it
became known that the only Marshall
in Durham who sinned in rhyme was
the city bell-man! Just then the
public attention was drawn to the
following parody, which was brought
forward as the original, by a new
pretender, who violently asserted the
ode to be a malicious plagiarism fram-
ed for the purpose of robbing him of
his reputation as a poet. The whole
transaction was very singular, and was
probably carried on with the sole view
of introducing this excellent travesty.
Not a Sous had he got,-not a guinea or wote,

And he look'd confoundedly flurried
As he bolted away without paying his shot,
And the Landlady after him hurried.

We saw him again at dead of night,

When home from the club returning,
We twigg'd the Doctor beneath the light,
Of the Gas Lamps, brilliantly barning.
All bare and exposed to the midnight dews,
Reclin'd in the gutter we found him,
And he look'd like a Gentleman taking a suooze
With his MARSHALL cloak around him.

The Doctor's as drunk as the D-1 we said,
And we managed a shutter to borrow,
We rais'd him and sigh'd at the thought that
his bead,

Would confoundedly ache on the morrow.

We bore him home, and we put him to bed,
To give him next morning, a couple of Red-

And we told his wife and his daughter,

Herrings, with Soda-Water.

On Woolfe's Ode on the burial of Sir J. Moore. THIS species of composition is always popular-for when well executed, it displays very great perfection of art, and seldom diminishes our estimation of the original. I have heard that some of our greatest poets have felt highly flattered by their productions being made the subjects of parody; and it is said, I believe, of Lady Montague, that she was extremely distressed at meeting in her house a poet and his Londly they talk'd of his money that's gone, parodist, but that her anxiety was soon removed, by the cordial and friendly character of the interview. I think the following parody one of the cleverest and happiest I have ever seen, and as it is not perhaps known to some of the readers of this Magazine, it will no doubt prove acceptable to them. The original was contained in a former number.

And his lady began to upbraid him,
But little he reek'd so they let him suore on,
'Neath the counterpane just as we laid him.
We tuck'd him in and had hardly done,
When beneath the window calling,
We heard the rongh voice of a son of a gun,
Of a Watchman, one o'Clock bawling.
Slowly and sadly we all walked down,

From his room in the uppermost story,
A rush light we placed on the cold hearth-stone,
And we left him alone with his glory.

PUNS AND PUNNING.

such a brilliant production, that I take
it upon me to affirm, with exposing

“Omne tulit pun tum qui miscuit utile dulei" myself to the imputation of vanity,

HORACE

NOTHING is so delightful to me in the

cold, stormy, moonless nights of winter, as to sit with a few friends around the blaze of a cheerful fire. The genial glow which it diffuses seems to warm and to relax the most cold and frigid constitutions, so that hearts of the most obdurate mould are

melted into a susceptibility of the gentlest impressions. My sense of enjoyment is at such seasons considerably augmented if I hear at intervals the violent Northen blast sweeping furiously along, for by contrasting the warmth and comforts which surround me with the chilling influence of the icy blast, a thrilling sensation of exquisite bodily delight pervades me which those only who have experienced it can conceive.

On such a night, in the month of December last, and with such substantial and imaginary sources of enjoyment, a few friends were assembled near the Western extremity of ******* The party consisted of ten young gentlemen, (including myself) and three or four ladies. The conversation was supported throughout the evening with vivacity, good humour, and wit; and it is my intention, in this paper, to relate as much of it as may amuse, without tiring my readers. Puns and bon mots were the order of the evening. I shall select the best of them, and record them with as much regard to method as the subject will admit of; not forgetting to mingle the utile with the dulci.'

In conformity to a well known rule in Horace, that writers should commence their subjects in medias res, I shall, in the arrangement of these witty effusions, begin with those which are most middling, and proceeding non fumum er fulgore, sed ex fumo dure lucem, shall terminate at length in

I make this second quotation from Horace, because it is possible that some of my hypercritical readers might otherwise question the propriety of my translation of “medias," there are only four lines between the two pass ages in the "Arte Pocticâ,."

that human wit has never hitherto
produced the like.

One of the ladies commenced the
conversation by asking a gentleman if
he did not think that a talent for pun-
ning evinced a very puny understand-
ing.

The gentleman with much politeness replied that punning did, in his opinion, evince a little wit. And you have accordingly,' returned the lady, displayed a little wit in that witty pun which you have just made.'

A talent at punning, or at wit,' observed another gentleman, has oftentimes rendered its possessor very important service in relieving him from unpleasant and embarrassing situations.-I will mention an instance or two of its utility in this respect. Whilst a boy at school, in a class with about a dozen others, we had each of us one day, for an exercise, to copy a map; all our copies were so full of errors that our master called us up, one after another, in a very angry mood, to point them out to us preparatory to a severe punishment. In the corner of each exercise was a cross, having at one of its extremes, N. for North, to distinguish the four cardinal points of the compass-unluckily for me, I had placed the N. at the East, instead of the North' When I was called up, my master shewing me my exercise, exclaimed, well, my bright youth, where is the North?' I pointed to the North. Then pray sir,' said he, what does N. go for there,' (pointing to it.)

N. goes for nothing there, sir, I replied, and I made at the same time some excuse for my negligence.' Depend upon it, my bright youth, that nothing which you have said shall save you from being punished like the rest.' The rest immediately received four custoses each; when my turn came, my master made a pause, and exclaimed, Palmam qui meruit,ferat." Perceiving that I did not comprehend the expression, he bade me translate it. I had never met with the passage before, and therefore in my present circumstances, very naturally rendered it thus, Let him who hath deserved it hold out his hand. Not a smile was

.

seen to disturb the gravity of Mr. Syntax, who then asked if I did not deserve it as well as the others. I replied that he had promised that what I had said should save me. 'I made no such promise,' returned he, assuming a look of severity, 'I said that nothing which you had said should save you, and as nothing saves you Palmum qui meruit ferut.' I glanced for a moment into my master's face, in the hope of being able to read my fate in the expression of his countenance, but, alas! his eyes seemed kindled with anger, and his brows contracted, whilst frowns and clouds of darkness rested on them. I thought, however, that I perceived a half conquered smile playing around his mouth- this revived me-it is the mouth which speaketh thought I, and not the eyes, and I am now safe,-yet there seems ocular demonstration of the contrary. He had commanded, as I thought, to hold out my hand.-I did so.-It trembled exceedingly.--He seized it, and shook it most heartily, saying, 'I will pardon you this once, you goodfor-nothing youth, and hope you will be good for something hereafter.' We all then went back to our desks; every face except my own was quite wet with tears. I was therefore the only dry youth amongst them, at which, you can easily imagine, that I experienced not a little gratification.'

A Physician, who was sitting, beside me, exclaimed there is nothing particularly to admire in all that, I can give you something almost as good.' Interrupting you, sir, for one moment,' said I, it strikes me that you pursue Horace's road to happiness, nil admirari very good,' returned the physician, and proceeded. 'A lady and a gentleman were lately disputing about the growth of minerals. The lady maintained that the rocks on Cairn Brea grew as fast as they were carried away. The gentleman denied it, observing that though he had seen it asserted in some recent popular work, that the growth of minerals was a disputed point among naturalists, yet the idea was most absurd. The parties begged me to decide between them, and being bound in politeness

not to decide against the lady, I contrived with the assistance of a pun to extricate myself from my embarrassment, by deciding that the lady could not possibly be wrong in maintaining that the rocks grew, inasmuch as it was apparent to every one that they grew less, as fast as they were taken away.'

On this a Lawyer who was present, observed that the judgment in that case was very glaringly against the lady; had I been called upon to decide instead of the gentleman who has just spoken, I should have evinced much more politeness. I would have decided that the rocks did actually acumulate on the cairn as fast as they were carried away; and if any one should afterwards tax me with a want of integrity or of sound judgment in my decision, I would reply that acumulate signifies to decrease, whilst accumulate means to increase, -the former being derived from a cumuls, from a heap,' the latter from ad or ac cumulum, to a heap.'

It is my turn, now,' said our host, to. state my opinion on punning, which is, that if one wish to say any thing very severe to another, a pun is frequently very serviceable; following the good example of my guests, I will relate an occurrence in confirmation of my opinion. A gentleman who was much more remarkable for his knowledge of the ancient.classics than he was for wisdom, having in a large assembly expatiated on the great advantages resulting from an intimate acquaintance with the dead languages of Greece and Rome, I expressed my doubts whether the study of these languages was not, in most cases, an unpardonable waste of time, inasmuch as the knowledge thus acquired in youth can seldom be usefully employed in manhood; and after a few years it becomes, from want of exercise, gradually effaced from the memory. The gentleman on hearing me speak thus, assumed a look of ineffable contempt, and said that he did not expect any person present could have possessed so small a share of mental capacity as to have made so absurd an observation. I have frequently abstained from

uttering a bon mot from a disinclination to wound the feelings of an individual, but no reason of this sort now restrained me,-my indignation was kindled at the uncourteous observation of the gentleman, and I was resolved to make him feel the effects of my resentment. Nature had given the gentleman a chin of extraordinary dimensions, and he was weak enough to feel almost as mnch pain from an allusion to his peculiarity in this respect as from an actual amputation of the part under consideration. I accordingly thus addressed him. As you have so freely expressed your opinion respecting me, you cannot of course complain if I with equal freedom declare my opinion respecting you. Do not blush therefore when I state to this assembly that I have not seen a man upon whom nature has bestowed more extensive mental endowments than she has upon you.' The sting conveyed in this repartee was not generally perceptible to the company, but it pierced the mental gentleman to the quick-he was distressed beyond measure, and did not open his lips again for the evening.

A lady who belonged to the sisterhood of the blues, then took up the subject, by remarking that information communicated in the shape of a pun, will always make a deeper impression on the memory, than when conveyed in any other shape. I was present,' said she, many years ago, when a Tory of the first water, during Lord Castlereagh's admimistration, was extolling the minister's policy to the skies; and after descanting on the wisdom of our ancestors,' and recommending the present generation to follow their steps as closely as possible, without deviation, he concluded by urging in the most forcible terms, that every Englishman who wished well to his country should conform to that excellent rule which the noble house of Townsend has chosen for its motto, stare super vius antiquas.' Which every true Englishman,' observed I, will thus translate,-Stare upon the ways of our ancestors.

Belonging to the chin.

Bravo, my lady!' we all exclaimed. She continued- I asked a gentleman some twelve years ago, what it was mankind regarded as the summum bonum: he laconically answered, ‘bonum summum.' And it was a very proper answer,' said the clergyman, who was amongst us, for the love of money, and wickedness, its inseparable com panion, have become so prevalent, that men put darkness for light, and call evil good. Thus a stupid ignorant attorney is termed a learned gentle man,' -a profligate debauchee is called a good fellow;' and if he be moreovera clergyman, he is styled, forsooth, Good men a Reverend gentleman." are scarce, used to be a very frequent remark, but now the world says with Horace, vir bonus est quis?'-a good man is any body. If I go to visit another who would wish me any where rather than in his company, I am not. withstanding received with the greatest apparent cordiality, and am greeted with I am very happy to see you.' If a lady make her daughter play for the amusement of her guest, however woful the performance may be, he must nevertheless express himself as highly delighted with the music, or else incur the risk of being looked upon as a perfect clown.' rate then,' said a lady, to be happy we must not pursue Horace's rule 'to admire nothing,' but the reverse, and admire, or seem to admire, and be delighted with every thing? I think, madam,' added the lawyer, 'I can convince you that Horace was of your opinion when he wrote nil admirari-facit-beatum, which may be thus translated :—nil admirari, to admire nothing;-facit, makes a person;-beatum, be hated; and if this make one be hated, the reverse must make one be-loved, and therefore happy.'

'At this

And

The clergyman resumed, men may say that honesty is the best policy; but to judge from their actions, they seem to think that summum jus est summa injuria,' that is to act with the greatest justice, is to inflict on oneself the greatest injury. It is very clear that an honest and upright conduct will not always insure worldly prospe