with a slave, and that they twain became one flesh, and by the mere act of whipping? Oh!" whipp'd into a slave!" We repeat it-our admiration is unbounded. Again and again let it be "wafted by the breeze," that all may hear it and admire" whipp'd into a slave!"

Poor Jemmy Bottom, thou art undone for ever! thou art, indeed, translated into an ass. Thy poetry is eclipsed, and thou must yield the palm. Vain are the "raging rocks" -powerless are "lion, wall, and moonshine;" aye, and the man in the moon to boot, although he bring to his assistance the lantern which was his lantern, and the dog which was his dog. Pyramus and Thisbe too! but it is useless to contend with this poetical giant.

We are sensible that any more extracts, and far more any thing that we could say, must, after what we have quoted, appear "flat and unprofitable." We shall here finish, therefore, hoping our readers will join in our humble prayer :-From the Monthly Magazine-from the harlot clothed in scarlet-from such stuff and from such poets,

Good Lord deliver us!!!

With their hum, hum, hum, &c.

And princes by the nose, Led by fools or by foes, Pimps, dukes, Turks, and fine foreign doxies;

Whilst a man of sense and grace, Could no more show his face, Than a footman his front in the boxes, With his hum, hum, hum, &c. There no language was fix'd, But all jargons were mix'd, Which gave the new courtiers much trouble;

And though in all the herd

No cloven tongue appear'd, Yet each tongue was both forked and double,

With its hum, hum, hum, &c.
The farce was complete,

Both in church and in state,

And the drawing-room was left to the rabble;

Which made great Jove to doubt,
The old isle was gone to pot,

Or transform'd to a bedlam or a Babel,
With its hum, hum, hum, &c.

"Hum, hum," quoth the god,
With a shake and a nod,

That shook all the firmament round him; "What a vile disorder's here!

Straight away, my wing'd courier,

Bring the guilty here, that I may confound them,"

With my hum, hum, hum, &c.
The little airy post,

As the welkin he cross'd,

Spied three royal dames laid all along;
Britannia the bold,

Caledonia the old,

And Hibernia with harp all unstrung, With her hum, hum, hum, &c.

As he nearer did advance,

"What the devil means this trance?" Cried Merky, and he plied them with his wand;

"Arouse, ye drones !" quoth he, ""Tis great Jupiter's decree," Whereat suddenly they started and they yawn'd,

With a hum, hum, hum, &c.
G

Then they, somewhat abash'd, Follow'd Merky in haste,

Till they reach'd Jove's throne of mighty wonder ;

At the sight his haughty blood Boil'd in such an angry mood; "Twas a mercy he withheld his red thunder,

With its hum, hum, hum, &c. "What avails it now," cried he, "To have given to you three, You pack of ungracious jades! Such fair domains to till,

If you doze thus and lie still, While a stranger your sacred right ́invades ?"

With his hum, hum, hum, &c.
"Look ye, yonder is a court
That makes you the sport
Of all the nations around you.

"Get you gone from whence ye came, To bear witness to your shame, Or by heaven I will straightway confound you!"

With my hum, hum, hum, &c.
Then, seiz'd with wild affright,
They all posted off by night

To St James's, where in truth they espied
Their great monarch in a trance,
With his trews in sad mischance,
And the princess a-puking by his side,

With her hum, hum, hum, &c.

"What the deuce have we got here?" Quoth bold England to Mynheer, "What! a madman for all my great pains ?"

"Aha!" quoth Caledon,

"I smell a rat, and so I'm gone, Devil a drop of my blood is in his veins !" With his hum, hum, hum, &c.

Then Hibernia she sigh'd,

As 'tis oft her way, and cried,

"Too long have I serv'd you, hard mas. ters!

"Tis all at your own doors,

For I strove with all my powers To prevent all those shameful disasters," With my hum, hum, hum, &c.

But after much pother,

And rage at one another,
These three most abandoned cullies

Cried for help about the court,
But, alas! no good support
Could be had from Turks, panders, and
bullies!

With their hum, hum, hum, &c.

Thus helpless in their smart,
They were urg'd to take heart,

And resolve to be no more afraid;

But in vain! 'tis too well known
They could ne'er pluck off a crown,
Except from the right owner's head,
With their hum, hum, hum, &c.
Whilst the dastards were thus
In their cowardly fuss,

Jove, still arm'd with thunder and threats,
Would have blasted them to hell,
Had not Pallas us'd a spell,

That gave a quick turn to their fates.
With her hum, hum, hum, &c.

For the goddess of Peace,
With such wisdom and grace,
Interpos'd to assuage her fierce fire;
That seeing them repent,

He withdrew his dire intent,
And calm'd the hot rage of his ire,
With a hum, hum, hum, &c.

Then Jove, all serene,

With a fatherly mien,

And that voice that decrees mortal fate,
Said, "Fair daughter, for thee
I absolve the guilty three,

Though they've oft mov'd my anger and hate,"

With their hum, hum, hum, &c. "In vain do they dare

Their past errors to repair,
With their foul sacrilegious hands;
But I'll bring a youth ere long,
From a race of heroes sprung,

That shall free them from their shame and their bond!"

With their hum, hum, hum, &c. "For him, the righteous heir, I've reserv'd all my care;

He shall make this vile discord to cease; By joining, as he shou❜d,

The ancient Stuart blood,

With the spirit of our brave Tudor race,” With his hum, hum, hum, &c.

"For him I do ordain

Golden days to come again

To these lands long oppress'd with wast

ing war;

And from him there shall come down
A race to wear the crown,

As fix'd as the bright Northern star,"
With its hum, hum, hum, &c.
Then all the gods on high
With a shout rent the sky,
To welcome the true heir to his own;
And great Jove gave such a roar
As was never heard before,

Till he made the tyrant totter on his throne,

With his hum, hum, hum!
And his bum, bum, bum!
And his rat-a-ta-ta-tatt!
Like a drum, drum, drum.

THE TWO MEN OF COLSTON, OR THE TRUE ENGLISH CHARACTER.

An excellent new Song,

For he fix'd his twong teeth in him's

roomple,

And held leyke grim death for the wheyle,

wi' me."

From Mr Bulmer's Collection-See our November Number, p. 441.

“WHY Joey, mon, where be'st thou going,

Woth all theyne own horses and kye, Woth thee pocks on thee back leyke a fether,

And bearnies and baggiye foreby ?" "Why dom it, man, wost thou nwot hearing

Of all the boad news that are out?

ing,

Till the general he gollop'd one meyle. "Why, Hester! what devil's thou doing?

Coome caw up the yaud woth the cart ; Let us heaste out to Burten's weyld sheeling,

For mee bleud it rwons could to mee heart.

So fare thee weel, Tommy !-I's crying! Command me to Mwoll and thee weyfe. If thou sees oughts of Josey's wee Meary, Lword! tell her to rwon for her leyfe."

To reave all our yauds and our nowt?

"So I's e'en gwoing up to the muirlands,

Among the weyld floshes to heyde, Woth all mee haille haudding and get ting,

For fear that the worst mey beteyde. Lword man! heast thou neaver been hearing?

There's noughts but the devil to pey; There's a Pwope coming down fro the Heelands

To herry, to bworn, and to sley.

"He has more than ten thousand male women,

The fearsumest creatures of all: They call them rebellioners-dom them! And canny-bulls some do them call. Why, mon, they eat Christians leyke robbits;

And bworn all the chworches for fwon; And we're all to be mwordered together, From the bearn to the keyng on the thrwone.

"Why our keyng he sends forth a great general,

Woth all his whole airmy, no less! And whot does this Pwope and his menzie?

Why Tommy, mon, feath thou'lt not guess

Why they folls all a rworing and yelling, Like a pack of mad hounds were their gowls;

And they comes wopen mouth on our swodgers,

And eats them oop bodies and sowls.

"There was not one creature escap'd them,

The great mighty general foreby; And one of the canny-bulls seiz'd him— Swoch canniness! dom it, say I!

Thou'st heard the wrong side of the truth:

For this is the true keyng that's coming,
A brave and mwoch wrong'd rwoyal
Thou's as ignorant as the yaud that thou
youth.
ride's on,

Or the cauve that thou dryves out the
Iwone;

For this Pwope is the Prince Charles
Stuart,

And he's cwome but to cleym what's his own.

"His feythers have held this ould keyng

And kick'd him out of house and hold; And reuin'd us all woth his taxes,

And hang'd up the brave and the bold.

If thou in thee friends had soome hwope,

"Now Joey, mon, how wod'st thou leyk it, If swome crabbed, half-wotted loun, Should cwome and seize on thee bit haudding,

And dryve thee fro all that's theyne own?

And Joey, mon, how wod'st thou leyk it, If they should all turn their backs on thee,

And call thee a thief and a pwope?" "Why, Hester! where devil's thou gwoing?

Thou'l dive the ould creature to dead; Stop still thee cart till I consider,

And take the ould yaud by the head. Why Tommy, mon, what was't thou saying?

Cwome say't all again without fail :

ed peacefully round those walls, while we were all in silent happiness within. I cast my eye upon the green mounds before me, and remembered, that, since I had accompanied their former inhabitants to the church-yard, many more had closed over them; while I was far away, alone, in sickness and in sorrow. My heart swelled almost to bursting, and I threw myself upon the grass, and shed some natural tears.

My sister, when she was seventeen, went to serve with a neighbouring farmer. She was beautiful as the young spring, and artless as Nature's very self. About two years afterwards, she was to have returned home at the Martinmas term, in order to make preparations for her marriage with a young shepherd. Near the end of the harvest, one Saturday night, she came to see her parents. She attended the parish church with them on the following Sunday, and towards evening set out for her master's house. Her lover had agreed to meet her at the river side, as it was expected to be flooded. About the dusk, a high wind arose, accompanied with a driving rain. He waited long on the opposite bank, under the shelter of a fence, a few paces below the ford, but had missed seeing her, owing to the darkness. If she had called, the fierceness of the wind, blowing directly against her, and the rushing of the stream, had prevented her from being heard. He recollected afterwards having seen something like a garment rise to the surface of the water, as he gazed upon it; but he paid no attention to it at the time, as he knew that the boiling of the river, and the uncertain light upon it, might easily deceive him. She was next day found washed to the side, a considerable way down, and four days after, her betrothed husband laid her head in the dust. He returned from the interment to his usual avocations, but to him existence had lost its relish. When he looked back, he thought only of his hopes so suddenly and so fearfully blasted, and when he looked forward, life without them was nothing but a dreary blank. At the term day following, he left the neighbourhood, and wandered away, nobody knew whither.

My mother took a mournful de

66

light in speaking to me of my sister. "Ye're my only bairn now," she would say: my dear Mary! she was aye sae hearty, and speired sae kindly for us a', when she came to see us, and was sae weel pleased wi' ony bit thing her father or me gied hermy puir woman!"

My mother was not one of those who can say, "The will of the Lord be done," and sit down satisfied to think themselves thus easily released from the heavy load of grief. She could, and she did say so; but insensibility to suffering, and resignation under it, are two very different things. The sorrow of a mother could not be restrained. She would weep for hours together, till recollecting that the greater part of her daily work remained to be done,she would rise to it, sighing mournfully, and remarking, that she had " nae heart to ony thing now."

At such times I have seen my father hastily wipe away the tear from his eye, and hurry from the house. There is something dreadful in the deep grief of a man. He seeks to conceal it, but it only gathers strength from the effort, and rages in his bosom, preying upon his very vitals, till it gain an outlet: like the swollen river that rushes from side to side, roaring, and foaming, and chafing itself into fury, against the rocks, and then pours with fearful force down the precipice.

After the death of my sister, my parents kept me always with them; but they did not long survive her, and at the end of a year and a half, I found myself an outcast from the ordinary feelings and enjoyments of mankind, for I was alone in the world. Since that time, my soul has had none to share in its sorrows; and when at any time it was revisited by ought like joy, it has been too apt to keep aloof within itself, and indulge in selfish exultation. I have had to struggle with difficulties which I was ill fitted to encounter, and the contemplation of my own misfortunes has sometimes led me to look with an eye of dissatisfaction upon all the ways of men. At such times, the remembrance of my youth comes over my mind with the most soothing influence. Not one of the hopes I then cherished has ever been rea