themselves, and endeavoring to fasten on some luckless neighbor's ear, who was himself bent upon the same design against some other.

We have often heard of the speech of a corporation, and this induced me to transcribe a speech of this club, taken in short-hand, word for word, as it was spoken by every memher of the company. It may be necessary to observe, that the man who told us of the ghost had the loudest voice, and the longest story to tell; so that his continuing narrative filled every chasm in the conversation.

So, sir, d'ye perceive me, the ghost giving three loud raps at the bed-post"-" Says my lord to me, my dear Smokeum, you know there is no man on the face of the yearth for whom I have so high"-"A false heretical opinion of all sound doctrine and good learning; for I'll tell it aloud and spare not, that"-"Silence for a song; Mr. Leathersides for a song"" As I was walking upon the highway, I met a young damsel"—"Then what brings you here?' said the parson to the ghost"-" Sanconiathon, Manetho, and Berosus" "The whole way from Islington turnpike to Dog-house bar" "As for Abel Drugger, sir, he's low in it; my 'prentice boy has more of the gentleman than he"""For murder will out one time or another; and none but a ghost, you know, gentlemen, can"-" For my friend, whom you know, gentlemen, and who is a parliament-man, a man of consequence, a dear honest creature, to be sure; we were laughing last night at"-"Upon all his posterity, by simply, barely tasting"66 Sour grapes, as the fox said once when he could not reach them; and I'll, I'll tell you a story about that, that will make you burst your sides with laughing. A fox once”— "Will nobody listen to the song?"" As I was walking upon

* A compliment to Goldsmith's friend, Garrick, in the part of Abel Drugger, which was a very low one.

the highway, I met a young damsel both buxom and gay”— "No ghost, gentlemen, can be murdered; nor did I ever hear of but one ghost killed in all my life, and that was -" "Soul if I don't"-" Mr. Bellows-mender, I have the honor of drinking your very good health"- "Fire""Whizz”—“ Blid”—“ Tit”—“ Rat"-" Trip”—the rest all riot, nonsense, and rapid confusion.

Were I to be angry at men for being fools (concludes Goldsmith, with touching pleasantry), I could here find ample room for declamation; but, alas! I have been a fool myself, and why should I be angry with them for being something so natural to every child of humanity?

Count Fathom's Adventure in the Love Cottage.

BY SMOLLETT.

THE Adventures of Ferdinand Count Fathom is one of those rare works of genius, in a very unusual sense of the epithet, which a reader of a well-constituted mind is at a loss whether to admire or to dislike. It is a history of such elaborate and unmitigated rascality, that one is surprised how the author's imagination could have consented to keep such a scoundrel company for so long a period. But there is one scene in it, which by universal consent is a masterpiece of interest; a mixture of the terrible and the probable that has often since been emulated, but never surpassed. It is to real life what the fragment of Sir Bertrand is to the ideal; and the writing is as fine as the conception. Smollett takes a delight in showing that the powers of his pen are equal to the most formidable occasions. He rejoices in "piling up an agony," especially on a victim not so courageous as himself; and by a principle of extremes meeting, a mischievous sarcasm, and strokes of humor itself, contribute to aggravate and envenom the impression of terror.

FA

ATHOM departed from the village that same afternoon under the auspices of his conductor, and found himself benighted in the midst of a forest, far from the habitations of men. The darkness of the night, the silence and solitude of the place, the indistinct images of the trees that appeared

on every side stretching their extravagant arms athwart the gloom, conspired with the dejection of spirits occasioned by his loss to disturb his fancy, and raise strange phantoms in his imagination. Although he was not naturally superstitious, his mind began to be invaded with an awful horror, that gradually prevailed over all the consolations of reason and philosophy; nor was his heart free from the terrors of assassination. In order to dissipate these disagreeable reveries, he had recourse to the conversation of his guide, by whom he was entertained with the history of divers travellers who had been robbed and murdered by ruffians, whose retreat was in the recesses of that very wood.

In the midst of this communication, which did not at all tend to the elevation of our hero's spirits, the conductor made an excuse for dropping behind, while our traveller jogged on in expectation of being joined again by him in a few minutes; he was, however, disappointed in that hope; the sound of the horse's feet by degrees grew more and more faint, and at last altogether died away. Alarmed at this circumstance, Fathom halted in the road, and listened with the most fearful attention; but his sense of hearing was saluted with naught but the dismal sighings of the trees, that seemed to foretell an approaching storm. Accordingly, the heavens contracted a more dreary aspect, the lightning began to gleam, the thunder to roll, and the tempest, raising its voice to a tremendous roar, descended in a torrent of rain.

In this emergency, the fortitude of our hero was almost quite overcome. So many concurring circumstances of danger and distress might have appalled the most undaunted breast; what impression then must they have made upon the mind of Ferdinand, who was by no means a man to set fear at defiance? Indeed he had well nigh lost the use of his re

flection, and was actually invaded to the skin, before he could recollect himself so far as to quit the road, and seek for shelter among the thickets that surrounded him. Having rode some furlongs into the forest, he took his station under a tuft of tall trees, that screened him from the storm, and in that situation called a council with himself, to deliberate upon his next excursion. He persuaded himself that his guide had deserted him for the present, in order to give intelligence of a traveller to some gang of robbers with whom he was connected; and that he must of necessity fall a prey to those banditti, unless he should have the good fortune to elude their search, and disentangle himself from the mazes of the wood.

Harrowed with these apprehensions, he resolved to commit himself to the mercy of the hurricane, as of two evils the least, and penetrate straight forwards through some devious opening, until he should be delivered from the forest. For this purpose he turned his horse's head in a line quite contrary to the direction of the high road which he had left, on supposition that the robbers would pursue that tract in quest of him, and that they would never dream of his deserting the highway to traverse an unknown forest amidst the darkness of such a boisterous night. After he had continued in this progress through a succession of groves, and bogs, and thorns, and brakes, by which not only his clothes, but also his skin suffered in a grievous manner, while every nerve quivered with eagerness and dismay, he at length reached an open plain, and pursuing his course, in full hope of arriving at some village where his life would be safe, he descried a rushlight, at a distance, which he looked upon as the star of his good fortune; and riding towards it at full speed, arrived at the door of a lone cottage, into which he was admitted by an old woman, who, understanding he was a bewildered traveller, received him with great hospitality.