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he condescended not a word in reply: sound, however, was not wanting from his lips, but articulation was in sufficient to express his tofty musings. He was drunk. I remember it well; the night was a gusty one; and Barnaby, as well as his coat, was above wearing a waistcoat, and as one of his legs could feel no cold, he disdained to pamper the other, and his nether integuments were of what I am fond to believe had once been nankeen, worn to the most exquisite thinness and tender delicacy of pale shade-if the dirt on them had permitted that evidence of their ever having been washed to be visible. Nothing could be extorted from his dignified reserve on that occasion. Next time I was more fortunate. At both periods, he preferred passing the night, like some of our present projectors, in measuring the Exchange. The fact was, he had not a penny to pay for his lodgings. This, however, he only revealed after having drank, for his share, three glasses of whisky in three pots of porter, with a couple of salt herrings and a Welsh rabbit, in an adjoining tap-room, to which I invited him. He at first solemnly assured me that he was retracing the plan of attack on Basque Roads, at which he had been present. He gloried, however, in being a bookbinder as well as having been a sailor. He had been bred to the one, and had all the fondness of first love for it, although naval glory and his wooden leg may be said to have taken possession of his maturer mind. But to folding paper instead of reefing canvas, and beating duodecimos instead of Frenchmen, he assured me he had returned, and, but at pension quarter-day, never forgot that he now was connected with other presses than the Press-Gang.
Poor Barnaby !-his quarter-day lasts as long as the money then lifted does, and longer-for to beg, borrow, orno, not steal-are alternatives he thinks upon the whole preferable to working. In fact, he confesses that his wooden leg was not made for sitting with. It does not bend-although it often breaks ;-and so, since from " a certain absurd prejudice against old men-of-war's-men," he cannot find any one but the King to become his master, he has set up for himself, as—will any body guess what?a flying stationer.--Aye, truly, stationer in the strict sense of the term, for he has no book-stock. I saw him yesterday morning with a couple of quires of two or three sorts of packing paper, tied up in a string, in his handand a couple of glasses of whisky in his head-following his lawful occupation, with all imaginable gravity of demeanour, and dignity of stride. Alas, the mutability
of human affairs, however! in three hours afterwards, I beheld him with that whited brown suddenly dissolved into blue ruin and heavy wet, and transferred from his arms to his head, stretched out on his back on a wheelbarrow, studying astronomy, and attended by a goodly escort of constables in livery, and city porters with their hempen aigulettes. His wooden leg was broken, his other one held by a Highlandman's fist; his coat like a bashaw's, of three tails; both his eyes like an Houri's black; and his mouth resembling Counsellor Phillips's style, and 's small beer-somewhat frothy. “At night I missed him from th' accustomed spot.” He slept-'tis the only place where he ever sleeps soundly, because recumbently-in the Police-Office. But another, and, perchance, if his stump will mend, again shall the else silent and lonely Piazzas of the Tontine ring with the solemn stride of the One-Legged Bookbinder.
THE HERMIT OF THE West.
SPECIMENS OF A SERIES OF NEW READINGS
IN BAILEY AND JOHNSON.No. V. Augmentation. — “ Improvement ”-in every thing but
tythes and taxation. Auger-Augur.-Reader! it is you alone that can divine
the difference betwixt what penetrates deal-boards and
futurity. Aunt.-A name for a relative who has often all the kind
ness, without a wish for the prerogatives, of a mother: Avoirdupois.-A term which is no longer of weight in
society. Like Bonaparte, it lost its own dignity when
it assumed an imperial one. Aurigraphy.-Writing with gold--a plan by which rich
dunces may become great authors. Aurora. A lady who opens the gates of heaven, as the
old woman unfolds those of the church-porch, so early in the morning, that modern poets have never been able to get up to see, and therefore wisely refrain from men
tioning her. Austerity.—That which effects for its wearer what ice does
to the puddle and the pool-hiding either its shallowness
or its depth beneath the crust of frigidity. Autobiography.-The lees of gossip, which it is hoped may be read when it is found that they cannot be listened to. Positively the last appearance of old players and their carpenters.
Aviary,--A fashionable name for a hen-roost.
uable, and yet hastens to get rid of. Ayr.-A remarkable town in Scotland, where Miss Foote is held to be immaculate, and “ The Ant” to be dull.
'Twas a summer one, sunny and bright-
And teach Echo our notes of delight!"
And sweetly, but coldly, they trilled ;
And their notes then their own bosoms thrilled !
Again they essayed their duett,
But the rogue turned it into a trio;
That they ne'er thought another was nigh-Oh!
And claimed his fair share of the strain ;
That without him they won't sing again :
QUESTIONS FOR DEBATING SOCIETIES.
in any shape but that of Money, calculated to be
of any service to the Labourer or Mechanic?” AUTHORITIES. — A. Smith; Ricardo's Principles ; Mill's Politi
cal Economy VI.-" Is such an Establishment as that at Botany
Bay consistent with sound policy ?” AUTHORITIES.—Bentham, Tr. de Legislation, Tome II. p. 184;
Paley's Phil. Bk. 6th, &c.
SONNET, Written on sailing past the Bass Rock, while it was the
only bright part of the Landscape.
Trophy, unmoved, amid the changeful waves,
The voice which yet doth speak from out the graves
THE HERON CORRESPONDENCE. No. VIII. DETACHED LEAF, Mrs. HERON TO HER DAUGHTER MARY. # # # # # And Mr. P I- , with his winning way, which indeed you yourself wrote about, over-persuaded me to take the Ensterhozy (I think he called it) sarsinnet after all. The gown being exceeding featly made, humouring my shep with wonderful canniness, by the lady you spoke of, I went with Charles to the ball, for he would have broken his heart if his Ant had not pleased him-even altho' you need not be told, Mary, that it's in my dochters that I dance now.
The Assembly, as the cards called it, was under the direction of six young gentlemen, who, among only their own pertikilar friends, selected about twenty more whom they allowed to join in the expense with them, and use their proper and sponsible discretion in inviting of the ladies. It was held in the big ball of an exceeding comfortable-like and respectable inn, where the Gorbals baillies hold their dinner-parties ; and Mrs. Patersonfor I gaed ben to her parlour and had a crack with her-assisted the lady who presided as matron over the whole festevaties, so heartily, that we were as happy as could be. The young Misses were upon the whole the most beautiful for their numbers that I have seen since I left home and the directors had white ribbons at their coat-breasts, to distinguish them in case of their authority being disputed, which was in no case done, but by one person, who thocht, as Charles said, that a pair of big whiskers gave him a richt to get fou, and behave as roughly as his own cheek. I advised them to let him alone, and he gaed out o' his passion into quietness, like the snuff of a candle that dies for want of materials to make a flame with. I am sure the young ladies were much obligated to the committee of six for the trouble they took in giving them such a fine party, and making it go of with such eclaw.- If Mysie has spun out all the lint that I left out for her, she
CHARLES HERON TO MARY HERON.
Wednesday Evening. MY DEAR MARY:- In the packet your mother sent off this morning, she forgot to enclose two things—a leaf of her long letter, which she had left in the blotting paper, and the shapes which she got permission to cut copies of. Which of these may be of most importance, I know not; but to-morrow morning's coach shall make you “ Independent” of their absence. Mamma has, upon the whole, been apparently very happy for this fortnight. She has described to you, I hear, all the parties she has been at; but, if I may guess from the leaf of her letter I have seen, she says not a word about having been at the Playhouse with her nephew and your-coz., yet there she has been-oftener than I choose to tell you. She was quite delighted with her first visit, and went again and again with small persuasion. It was little wonder. The newspapers will have told you of Charles Kemble's being here, and playing Hamlet, Rob Roy, Falstaff, Octavian, Charles Surface, Lord Townly, &c. Aunt was not less delighted with his fine presence, than astonished at his versatility; and she declared that he was the most perfect gentleman she ever saw-except the Duke of Montague. He is indeed an exquisite and classical performer, and, in his Falstaff, showed himself to be capable of pourtraying the richest humour, as well as the most finished elegance. Mrs. Siddons, his niecein-law, played a few nights with him. You have heard her exquisite voice, and seen her perfect grace-So can guess what your mother would think of her. On one of the evenings, a Miss Pearson, late a pupil of Welsh's, made her debut as a public singer with decided success; her capabilities are great. And, last night, a Mr. Keene, styled “ The African Roscius,” appeared as Othello-without needing to blacken his countenance. It might give rise to many strange cogitations, this phenomena of a brown youth with negro nose and woolly head, stepping forth from the mental degradation that has been deemed inseparable from his hue, and bringing to Shakespeare's country, and to Shakespeare's tomb, the homage of the thousand swarthy tribes of Afric;—but, dearest, I spare you. He is certainly wonderful, but assuredly not excellent. His enunciation is surprisingly distinct, and yet not regular, and his memory by no means without rents in it. Some bursts of