EXTRACTS FROM A GARLAND FOR THE GRAVE OF SHERIDAN, BY MR. PHILIPS. No...shed not a tear upon Sheridan's tomb, The moment for sorrow is o'er ; Pale Poverty's cloud, or ingratitude's gloom, He is gone to the Angels that lent him their lyre, Yet, wounded spirit...not unwept, on thee Oh love, how rare! that shuuning fortune's day, Farewell...farewell, bright spirit of the sky! PETRARCH'S IDEA OF BOOKS. Few persons knew the value of books better than Petrarch. His friends having written him several apologies for not visiting him, in which they declaimed against his love of solitude, as unnatural to a human being, and reproached him on his unsocial mode of life; Petrarch smiled at their messages, and made the following excellent remarks: "These people consider the pleasures of the world as their supreme good, and not to be renounced. But I have friends of a very different description, whose society is far more agreeable to me. They are of all countries, and of all ages; they are distinguished in war, in politics, and in the sciences. It is very easy to see them, they are always at my service. I call for their com pany, or send them away whenever I please; They are never troublesome, and immediately answer all my questions. Some relate the events of ages past, others reveal the secrets of nature; these teach me how to live in comfort, those how to die in quiet. In return for all these services, they only require of me a chamber, in one corner of my mansion, where they may repose in peace." G. Stobbs, Printer, Catherine Street, Strand. AMUSING CHRONICLE, a Weekly Repository for MISCELLANEOUS LITERATURE. No. VI.] OCTOBER 24, 1816. [VOL. I. Price only Four Pence. A DESIGN FOR A GOBLET, IN HONOR OF SHAKESPEARE, FOR THE SOCIETY OF ASSOCIATED GENIUS, Go Rundall, with speed, let a Goblet be made Let the size be capacious, our love to evince, When we drink to our Founder, our Friends, and our Prince. On its base let the vine in gay clusters appear, We claim no high stories from Greece and from Rome, Whatever his theme, or of war or of love, He could soar with the eagle or coo with the dove; And do honor to him whom all nations respect. Macpherson, Printer, Russell Court, Covent Garden. In the first ample round bid your Artist produce, Now under the green oaken tree bring the wight, In the last give the scene where bright reason again, Where the glutton resorts and the sot has his load. Unsullied by such shall our Goblet go round, THE NARRATOR.-No. V. T. N. MY NEIGHBOUR'S DAUGHTER. NOTWITHSTANDING Mr. Markham's success in obeying the dictates of his visionary Monitor, I am of opinion there is nothing more delusive than a Dream; and, that many who suffer themselves to be led away by this kind of Ignis Fatuus will soon or late submit to conviction, and curse the shadowy tempter that led them from propriety to despair, and this I shall endeavour to exemplify by the conduct of my Neighbour's Daughter. About the commencement of a late State Lottery, Miss Lucy Lackmore, a young woman who put great faith in Dreams, fancied in her sleep, that she beheld her lover come to her bed side, and being in haste, he pulled off his boots and cast them violently from him, and that they fell in a parallel form, heel to toe, upon her chamber floor, which Miss Lucy believed to represent the figures 77; and this made so strong an impression on her mind that she resolved the next morning to sport the lucky number and to keep the secret from the rest of her friends, lest they might become as fortunate as herself. As soon as Lucy had done at her dressing table, away she ran to Mr. Bubblebooby's, at the Blind-fortune in Blow-bladder Street, and was presently accomodated with her favourite number,-and now my Neighbour's Daughter conveyed the precious jewel to her casket, resolving to keep it secure till the oracle at Guildhall should pronounce her happy for life. The morning came, the great wheel went round, and the Blue-coat boys were at their station, ready to begin the work of fortune, the signal was given from the Commissioners, and the first-drawn Ticket was pronounced, a lofty prize, but 77 had not yet accorded with the hopes of Lucy; to work she went, and for seven succeeding days, insured her lucky number, when all the little money Lucy had saved from the needles of industry was sunk from her sight for ever, or what was equally ridiculous, thrown into the till of the office-keeper, Mr. Bubblebooby; nor was the spirit of Miss Lucy Lackmore here cast down, "It shall be kept up," said Lucy, and bundling up a portion of her best apparel, away she ran to Mr. Spung'ums, at the Three Golden Dumplings, in Beggar-maker Lane, and brought away with her enough to cover her lucky number, BLANK! and PRIZE! for another week to come, being certain from the singularity of her dream, that she should shortly become a great lady; but at the finish of the second week 77, had not emerged from the unfriendly wheel of Fortune :-" It shall not be neglected," cried my Neighbour's Daughter, and flying to her good friend Mr. Spung'um, left another bundle of her apparel, and for another week kept up her lucky number, for she was persuaded the figure like her lover's boots would at last be to her a source of great riches; however in this Lucy was again mistaken, for the Prizes being all drawn out, 77 was left behind among the unprofitable Blanks, and my Neighbours Daughter, as bare of feathers, as a plucked partridge, or a hen-robin in the season for moulting :-fretting, and cursing the poor Dream that had led her astray, and shedding the tears of repentance, Lucy wisely resolved never more to be gulled by such visionary monitors, and my Neighbour's Daughter returning again to the needles of industry, by prudence and perseverance, was not long before she recovered the whole of her property from the man who keeps the Three Golden Dumplings, in Beggar-maker Lane, and is now among the first to inculcate this advice. |