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rested in it. The facts are most extraordinary; for I myself, when a boy, copied the Walk from a MS. of Southey's, which he himself gave to the friend, who lent it to me. I will see the friend during the week, and then notice the article in the Monthly Magazine. I will, however, trouble you with a line previously, after I have communicated with the gentleman, who lent me the MS.

I remain Your Obedient Servant

G. W. M. REYNOLDS ESQ.

12 WARWICK SQUARE,

WARWICK LANE.

T. H[OOK].

CCLXXIII. Strenua Inertia translated.

THE FLEET-PRISON, Febr. 8, 1838. Translations by Barton's Father and Captain Medwin.

"An attempt to translate Mr Barker's Epigram, which I consider a most happy illustration of his subject."

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TRANSLATION.

Idly-busy squirrel, say,

Wherefore spend the livelong day
In hopeless, fruitless toil?

The cylinder, you roll in vain,
Obeys you, but revolves again,

And mocks in quick recoil.
You never can, and wherefore try
Your whirling prison thus to fly ?
Laborious indolence!

"Tis self you follow, self you shun,
From rising to the setting sun,
Nought-doing! - great pretence!
Stranger to rest, yet idling thus!
Labours the shade of Sisyphus !

NOTES.

E. B. July, 1837.

I think our University might match this in one of our own contradictions. viz. Passive Resistance.

O'Connell might act the squirrel, but who could put him into the cage, or, if put in, might he not mar the epigram, by getting out?

This translation might have been more faithful, but I preferred to give as much force as I could to the character of the subject proposed for illustration.

He (Medwin) had no right to substitute Ixion for Sisyphus, as Ixion was tied to the wheel, and could not, except mechanically, exemplify the "Strenua Inertia" which Sisyphus could by descending the hill to resume his idle occupation. I can see no likeness between these two noted characters, such as could apologize for making one the "locum tenens" of the other, unless we admit Ixion as one of "the body," among robbers, for having vainly attempted to commit a trespass upon Juno. Besides, it is a calumny upon Ixion that he did nothing. Did he not do great things in producing Centaurs out of such a shadowy substance as a cloud?

Brisk, nimble-footed squirrel, stay,
Strive as you will to get away,

That wiry house that wheels about,
Trust me will never let you out;
Toiling you fly yourself in vain,
And earn but labour for your gain;
You drag along a life of care,
Poor tread-mill captive! as you are
And blind as was Ixion, shew
Still doing, that you nothing do.

T. MEDWIN.

CCLXXIV. Starvation in the Fleet, &c.

THE FLEET-PRISON, Febr. 14, 1838. MR CHAMBERS mentioned to-night, that about 4 years ago a prisoner named Franks died, as he decidedly considers, of starvation. Mr Chambers did what he could to relieve his necessities; and as a proof of his honesty, when he had received a little money, he tendered part of it to MR CHAMBERS, which he declined receiving. His daughter, a strong-minded woman, slept in the same room with him; he was a prisoner for several years. At length his daughter, who earned a little money by doing fine needle-work, lost her intellects, and has never recovered them.

B..... says that A...... N...... was asked one day by E...... at K...'s C...... to explain a Note in his book, about verbs being used in the same sentence in an active and passive sense; S....... had written the whole book, and N......, not being master of the Note, was put to sad confusion by his inability to explain it. He gave a copy of the book to S....... and put in it, From the Author. When he was once in the HOUSE OF LORDS, he was recognised by two gentlemen, who expressed their astonishment at seeing him there, when he was known. to have been concerned in some base gambling transactions.

CCLXXV. Billy Taylor &c.

Febr. 25, 1838. Billy Taylor is a prisoner here; his wife and daughter got drunk, and were locked in; she was lying in the passage; some one came and told Billy to take care of his wife's virtue; she would be rasped; never mind, said he, she has been so 500 times......

G. W. M. Reynolds says that a friend of his blasphemously swears by the top-curl of the Almighty's perriwig!

Dr H. Lee said that a Frenchman, who taught French at Oxford, was asked how he got on there with the men, and he coolly said that if God Almighty were to say to him, Monsieur, which would you prefer, to teach the young men at Oxford, or to be damned? I declare to you that if it was the same thing to God Almighty, I should prefer to be damned!

CCLXXVI. SUNDAY LEGISLATION.

The saints of our day, meekly tolerant of the indulgences of those in high station, are exasperated against the crying sin of poor man's slaking his thirst during the hours of Divine Service. That the hard-working mechanic, pent up in his workshop during the week, should take recreation on the Sunday, this, in their eyes, is a crime which calls for the visitation of Heaven, and the vengeance of the Magistrate. The world of fashion may entertain their guests on the Lord's-day, and the wealthy of the land may have their accustomed indulgences without offence to Heaven; but that a public-house should be open in which a tradesman, after his walk, may procure rest and refreshment, this is an offence to be punished with fines and forfeitures, as one not to be borne with in a Christian land.

CCLXXVII. THE BOOK-WORM'S WIFE.

To a deep scholar said his wife:
"Would that I were a book, my life!
On me you then would sometimes look ;
But I should wish to be the book,
That you would mostly wish to see :
Then say what volume should I be?"
"An almanac," said he, "my dear:
You know we change them ev'ry year."

CCLXXVIII. SELFISH.

A gentleman made his servants sell the produce of his lake. A wit observed that he was endeavouring to make his servants as sel-fish as himself!

CCLXXIX. EXCHANGE NO ROBBERY.

A gentleman, on leaving a party, missed his hat which was a new one. "Oh, sir," said the servant, "all the new hats have been gone these two hours."

CCLXXX.

Febr. 25, 1838. An Irishman, who hawks paper about in the prison, was speaking of LORD GORMANSTON's son, who is a prisoner, and who has a terrible habit of swearing, "Sir, he swears such oaths, as would fetch the Devil from Hell!"

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