great industry, and at the same time calling out"Steward! take away this porter-pot, it runs."—" I doubt that," cried Smart." I say it does," resumed Dick, angrily," the table-cloth is all of a sop.”—“I'll bet you half-a-crown it doesn't." Done! and done!' were hastily exchanged, when Mr. Smart, looking round with a smirk, exclaimed-" Ladies and gentlemen, I appeal to every one of you whether the pot has not been perfectly still, and nothing has been running but the beer." This elicited a shout at poor Dick's expense, who sullenly muttered, "I'm not going to be bamboozled out of an 'alf-crown in that there vay; and vat 's more, I vont be made a standing joke by no man."—" I don't see how you can," replied his antagonist, "so long as you are sitting."—

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Vy are you like a case of ketchup?" cried Dick, venturing for once to become the assailant, and immediately replying to his own inquiry, "Because you are a saucebox."-" Haw! haw!" roared his mother, "bravo, Dick! well done, Dick! there's a proper rap for you, Mr, Smart."-Somewhat nettled at this joke, poor as it was, the latter returned to the charge, by inquiring of Dick why his hat was like a gibletpie? and after suffering him to guess two or three times in vain, cried, "Because there's a goose's head in it," and instantly set the example of the horse-laugh, in which the company joined. Finding he was getting the worst of it, Dick thought it prudent to change the conversation, by observing that it would luckily be "'igh-vater in the arbour vhen they ar

rived.”—“ Then I recommend you by all means to use some of it," said the pertinacious Mr. Smart ; perhaps it may cure your squint."

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Both mother and son rose up in wrath at this personality, and there would infallibly have been a bourrasque (as the French say) in the hold, but that there was just then a tremendous concussion upon the deck, occasioned by the fall of the main-boom, and followed by squeaks and screams, of all calibres, from the panic-stricken company at the dinner-table. "Lord have mercy upon us!" ejaculated Croak with a deep groan, "it's all over with us-we are going to the bottom-I like to make the best of every thing-it's my way, and I therefore hope no lady or gentleman will be in the least alarmed, for I believe drowning is a much less painful death than is generally supposed."

Having run upon deck at this juncture for the purpose of ascertaining the nature of the accident, which he found to be unattended with the smallest danger, the writer cannot detail any more of the conversation that ensued until their arrival at Calais, which may form the subject of another paper.

IMITATION OF HORACE. BOOK II. ODE 16.

"Otium divos rogat impotenti."

FANATICS, both in Church and State,
While to themselves they arrogate
The exercise of candour,

The use of TRUTH to us refuse,

Forgetting that what's sauce for goose,
Is sauce, too, for the gander.

TRUTH! TRUTH! the pliant Judge exclaims,

E'en while he candidly defames

The object of his rancour;

And courtiers, tossing on the sea
Of false Intrigue and Flattery,

Still claim her for their anchor.

But ermined tool, nor titled slave,

Nor gilded Star-and-Garter knave,

Can bribe her to compliance;

Through guards and gownsmen's dead array
Her daring whispers win their way,

And beard them with defiance.

'Tis this makes great and little curs

Unite their voice to smother hers,

And supersede the Bible :

By statutory proof, forsooth,

Shewing that welcome falsehood's TRUTH,

Unwelcome Truth a LIBEL.

But should they bury her awhile,
No patent coffin can beguile,

Her formidable spectre,

Which, spite of bribery or blows,

Will tweak a Monarch by the nose,
And scare a legal Hector.

TRUTH follows us where'er we range;
It dogs an Alderman to 'Change,

A shepherd to his meadow :

He who beyond her reach would fly,

Might just as sapiently try

To leap beyond his shadow.

While he, TRUTH'S victim, whom their fears Condemn to pass imprison'd years,

Is martyr'd to be sainted:

Nor Judge's sword, nor Pandar's tongue,
Wound him whose withers are unwrung,
Whose bosom is untainted.

They chain his body, not his mind,
Which, soaring, quickly leaves behind.

The cell wherein they toss'd it ;

And like Belshazzar's spectral hand,
In his own festive hall will brand

The Tyrant or Apostate.

THE UNEXPECTED DISCOVERY,

CONTAINED IN A LETTER FROM A YOUNG LADY AT BRIGHTON TO HER COUSIN IN LONDON.

DEAR JENNY,

ON parting I gave you my word to write an account of whatever occurred at Brighton deserving your Ladyship's ear,—and thus I begin :-In the first place, my dear, if you mean to come down, book your place in the DART; a coach which is not only dashing and smart in its look, but exceeds every one on the road in quickness of going. So much for the mode. Now as to the friends and acquaintance you'll meet when once you come down, I should never complete a list of them all ;-however, your friend fat Deputy Dump and his wife, from Mile End, are both of them here; and of course such a pair are sure to occasion a general stare; for there is not a soul in the place who beholds this corpulent dealer in rush-lights and moulds, without being struck by his little chip hat-his stomach rotunda-his coloured cravat-his apple-green frock, drawn carefully in at the back, that his beautiful shape may be seen-his Wellington trowsers, and bootlings provided with spurs. You will certainly fancy, as I did at first, that the tale of his spurs is invention, but I've seen him accoutred in all that I mention. His equestrian deeds, I was perfectly sure, were confined to a chamber-horse, kept as a cure for