TO A LADY, WHO CALLED THE AUTHOR A BUTTERFLY. You say, miss, that I, Like a pert butterfly, Am lighting on every flower; And oft I greet, each one that is sweet, I may sometimes delight, To resemble that poor harmless thing; Yet you, like the bee, Do act towards me, Your sweetness is mixed with a sting. And steal their sweet honey 'tis true; MY SWEET LITTLE MARY.* When my love is not present my spirits grow sad, And the world seems a wilderness dreary; But when she approaches, how joyful and glad I fly to my sweet little Mary. Her presence imparts inexpressible bliss, She's such a bewitching young fairy; But, oh! what I feel if I win but a kiss From the lips of my sweet little Mary. And when in the dance I behold with delight Her motions so graceful and airy ; I feel my heart futter, and pant for a flight To the arms of my sweet little Mary To obtain one request the whole world I'd forego, 'Tis a gem in ny bosom to carry; But the gem which I ask none but she can bestow, "Tis the heart of my sweet little Mary. ALPHUS. Varieties. CURIOUS SIMILITUDE BETWEEN BELLS AND BELLES. A writer in the Grand Magascribing the various and numerous zine, for 1760, page 79, in deuses to which bells have been applied at different periods, makes the following curious, and perhaps in some cases, just comparison. He says, At Cremona, in 1101, the armies had large bells on carriages placed near the general's tent, at the sound of which the soldier's repaired to their proper places, and received their commands. I cannot find that we have any bells of that sort in our armies, but we have belles of another sort, that follow our troops, between which, and those of antiquity, there is a wonderful similitude: the ancient bells disturbed the soldiers from their meals; the modern belles frequently leave them nothing tỏ eat; the ancient bells were not confined to the use of one in particular, but were common to the whole camp: the modern belles are the same. The ancient bells were famous for their clappers, the modern belles are infamous on the same account: the ancient bells were hung up for the good of the army, and it must be confessed, that it would greatly contribute to the good of our armies, if modern belles were served so too.' ANECDOTE. A slang baby from Fleet Market being examined in the court of Common Pleas, and not answering the counsel in a proper manner, was asked a few HOME questions by the chief justice, which galled him exceedingly; thinking his examination was terminated, he was getting down, and growled in a manner loud enough to be heard- D-n me, I did not think I came here to be queered by you, old one.' The chief justice, whose ears were as sharp as his eyes, heard him, and called out, "Set that witness up again. Fellow," sid he," what you say is true enough, I am an old one, but sometimes I am a rum one, but I'll queer you and send you to quod," and immediately committed him. ANECDOTES OF COUNT DE BUFFON, THE CELEBRATED NATURALIST. George Lewis Le Clerc, Count de Buffon, the subject of this memoir, was born on the 7th of September, 1707, at Montbard, in Burgundy. His father was councillor to the parliament, and intended, if possible, that his son should succeed in the same office. But his mind was captivated at a very early age, by a desire for knowledge; his sole ambition was to resign himself to his favourite pursuit without restraint. From his infancy, he possessed an almost incredible ardour, both for business and pleasure. Such was his, I might almost say, natural love for geometry and the learned sciences, that while he was a boy at school, he invari-· ably carried a copy of Euclid's Elements in his pocket, and when playing at any game with his school fellows, used to steal away for a moment to search his book for a solution of a problem on which he was then intent. On coming of age, he came into the possession of his mother's fortune, which amounted to upwards of 300,000 livres; and his example fully demonstrates, that if fortune lulls to sleep moderate talents, it creates a fresh animation in the mind of a man ardent with a love for glory. Although he had an almost passionate love for pleasares, he studied with considerable ardour for nearly fifteen hours every day; and a domestic; who had the charge of waking him in the morning (for which services he regularly received a sum of half a crown per diem) had orders to take him forcibly out of bed whenever he should offer any resistance; and he was frequently heard to say, that to his servant Tom, for his industry in making him get up, he owed half the works he had written. He was very much attached to a retreat he had built in his father's garden at Montbard, where he could study undisturbed, which he generally commenced at five in the morning; it was in this retreat, that the illustrious citizen of Geneva fell on his knees, and kissed with transport the threshold of the door. It was only at the dinner table (where he sat a long time) that his friends could enjoy his company and conversation, which was simple, interesting, seldom animated, but always cheerful. Printed and Published by CowIE & STRANGE, 64, Paternoster Row, and 24, Fetter Lane. THE LATE LAMENTED MR. CANNING. GEORGE CANNING (an untitled name, which not the highest honours in the gift of Kings could more illustrate than its own simple grandeur), is no more. He died at Chiswick, where another great Statesman, eloquent, patriotic, popular, and full of human kindness, like himself, also died, (we believe in the same room); and, as if Providence determined to signalise such a loss, by that singular concurence of dates which have always characterised the greatest men-the Cæsars, the Cromwells, and the Napoleons he died on the sixth anniversary after the day when the late Queen Caroline-persecuted by a pow erful faction, and defended by his single manly voice among the ministry, died of a broken heart. It is with the deepest grief that we record the astounding The disease continued to make rapid progress, in spite of all that the first medical skill could do to baffle it, watching every turn it took, and applying, on the instant, every remedy likely to subdue its virulence, and mitigate his sufferings. The mortification which thus prematurely terminated the existence of the most distinguished statesman of the present day, was, throughout its progress, more than usually rapid; in scarcely twenty hours from its commencement the illustrious sufferer ceased to breathe. So speedy a termination, was not anticipated by the physicians; and consequently some of those distinguished individuals who would otherwise have been present at the closing scene were not there. The Right Hon. Gentleman's son-in-law, the marquis of Clanricarde, and Mr. Stapelton, who has for many years been his private secretary, were the only individuals, except the medical attendants, who were present at that distressing moment. The Right Honourable Sufferer, shortly after midnight, sunk rapidly from exhaustion, and as stated in the bulletin, a few minutes before four o'clock on Wednesday morning, without a sigh, and apparently with out a pain, he gently breathed his last. others achieve greatness, and some have it thrust upon them. If we were to point out to what class the subject of our memoir belongs, we should unhesitatingly say the second, since the distinguished offices he has held were neither hereditary nor thrust upon him, but solely achieved by his talents. If, however, Mr. Canning was neither indebted to his ancestors' title or fortune, he is the heir to hereditary talent. His father, George Canning, esq. was descended from a respectable family in Ireland. Having displeased his parents by an early marriage with a young lady, without fortune, but beautiful and accomplished, he left his native country for London, where he lived on an allowance by his father of not more than 150%. a year. Mr. Canning thus circumstanced, entered himself in the society of the Middle Temple, but died a short time after he had been called to the bar, and before he had any opportunity of distinguishing himself, which there was no doubt he would have done, as he was a gentleman of considerable literary attainments. He was,' says one of his biographers, the author of several excellent tracts in favour of public liberty," but he is better known as a poet than a politician. It was the father of the present distinguished senator and statesman that wrote the verses supposed by a poetical licence, to have been written by lord William Russell to lord William Cavendish, on the night preceding his execution. |