place in the stamp-office : the third (who was determined to have his fling at me, though what he said had nothing to do with the present business) begged I would give him my opinion of South's Sermons ; and observed, that he had that morning turned off his tailor for having detected him in cabbaging. I disdained to make any reply to the grossness of their wit, nor did I even reproach them with ingra. titude. I neither reminded the one of the charity sermon which got him so much applause; nor the other, of the funeral sermon which set his congregation a roaring: but to me they are obliged for most of their discourses, and all their reputation. To be sure, the slip I made in transcribing South's sermon was unlucky. But am I for that to be made miserable for ever? Am I for that to lose my reputation ; and must I return to my old trade of stay-making? Do, good brother, consider the dignity of our profession, and put me in a way of mitigating the rigour of some of my critical customers, and regaining the favours of others, which I have lost by an unfortunate cabbage, or the laughter of an audience, when it was the intention of the preacher that they should be grave. Render me this piece of service, and I will write your funeral sermon, which you shall inspect, and, if you please, alter before you die. • Bound, together with you, in the service of the public, believe me yours sincerely, HABAKKUK CANTWELL. P.S. If any gentleman agrees with me for ser mons by the great, I give him my lecture on delivery for nothing, and for my essay on pulpit-oratory charge him only one shilling and sixpence, which to common customers is two shillings. I exchange his old sermons for new, at half-price. N. B. My landlady has requested that I will take every handsome opportunity of informing her neighbours and the public, that she sells corn-plaster, and really very good; for I have used it. No. 13, St. street, Petty France. To prevent mistakes, a blue lamp over the door. Mr. Cantwell is always at home, except on Sundays, and then is to be spoken with at the Admiral Rodney, Islington.' I am unwilling to quarrel with the familiarity of my brother Cantwell, lest, as he in all probability deals in the proverbs and the noverbs, he should remark, that I lay myself open to the application of the well-known, "Two of a trade can never agree.' His • generosity in making a present of his lecture to his customers, reminds me of the lame man, who cried, Come, buy my gingerbread, and I will give you a dram.' It is true he gave his dram, but made you pay sixpence for a gingerbread nut: so the famous Dr. Leo cures his patients gratis, and only charges half-a-crown for his box of salve. - SIR, • I herewith send you a short history of myself. I did once keep a theme shop in a university, which shall be nameless, where I served undergraduates with exercises of every kind, having men under me. whom I employed in the different branches of the trade. These were not your handicraftsmen, your starvelings, and your nick-bottoms; but, as I may say, they were eruditi togati homines, learned men, men of the gown. To each I allotted their different departments; here were your translators, your declamation-spinners, and your weavers of Lent-epigram. By the labours of these gentry, whom I paid by the piece, I got a decent livelihood; but as I thought my talents considerably improved by habitual a commerce with books and bookish men, I resolved to shake off all encumbrance, and seek a place where I might give play to my abilities, and obtain a share of reputation as well as a livelihood. It is now about a twelvemonth since, that, in conformity to this resolution, I opened a neat and convenient shop, not far from the bottom of the Haymarket, where I deal out to customers of all sorts, whatever they may want in the literary way, at the lowest prices. • I have by me, in the poetic line, every thing that can be named, from an acrostic to an epic poem. I have sun-risings and sun-settings for all persons, places, and seasons. Not like Mr: Bickerstaff's, confined to this or that condition : but I have the milk-maid's sun-rise, the cobbler's sun-rise, the politician's sun-rise, the poet's or common sun-rise, with proper sun-sets to match them. I have storms for seamen, and storms for landsmen; not to mention a few hail storms, squalls of wind, &c. &c. I have similes from Arcadia for pastoral writers; metaphors for people of quality, in Joe Miller's true sense of the word, such as you never met-a-fore; and a bundle of tropes unsorted, consisting of metonomy, aposiopesis, synecdoche, &c. for epic poets and sonneteers. I have a fine soliloquy, supposed to have been uttered by Nahum Tate upon his death-bed: it is not in a strain of rant, but so tender-it would do your heart good to hear how my shop boy does roar when I read it to him. * In the way of prose, I have jokes for disbanded statesmen, elegantly-turned compliments suited to all occasions, and panegyrics applicable to all people, provided they are high in the world ; an essay on the baneful effects of intemperance and charcoal; a loose parcel of sentences for mottos ; a few knowing phrases to be used at races ; with a file of conundrums to make the ladies laugh-the latter are well а a a adapted to the mouth of any gentleman who has a remarkable good set of teeth. Of the graver kind, I have two sermons, which smack pretty well of the high church; a two-shilling pamphlet upon the rise and fall of the tucker :- this is in black letter, and treats of an invention of our ancestors, which has been unhappily lost. I have looked in Pancirolus, and all the books of that sort, and can find no mention of it; it is, therefore, a considerable curiosity. • I have speeches suited to members of parliament in all trying situations ; whether they are about to .consult their constituents through the medium of a hogshead of claret, or to descant upon an infringement of the game laws : some pithy sarcasms upon country members, who have been often ridiculed, but never properly handled ; an essay on matrimony; and an elaborate treatise on the use and abuse of the parenthesis in modern composition. Who knows, Mr. but I may be able to serve you one of these days, when you have been idle, or are put to it for a joke? I say nothing, but there is nobody I would sooner oblige. I will send you some specimens of the different works I have mentioned ; and shall hope, at least, to meet with your approbation, if not your custom. Sir, yours, &c. . MONRO. POLUMATHES.' I am, N° 4. SATURDAY, APRIL 7, 1787. Deferar in vicum vendentemi thus et odores, It is melancholy to reflect on the unhappy circumstances which have frequently attended the deaths of authors. If we turn over the pages of literary history, we shall find, that although many have en joyed the gratification of hearing their own praises, and some have even basked in the sunshine of opulent patronage, yet their deaths have been often obscure, and sometimes disastrous. Cicero fell a victim to party-rage; Sidney expired in the field of battle; Crichton fell by assassination; and Otway perished by famine. The fate of books is oftentimes similar to that of authors. The flattery of dedications, and the testimony of friends, are frequently interposed in vain to force them into popularity and applause. It is not the fashion of the present day to indulge the hangman with the amusement of committing books to the flames; yet they are in many instances condemned to a more inglorious destiny. The grocer, the chemist, and the tallow-chandler, with ruthless and unhallowed hands,' tear whole libraries in pieces, and feel as little compunction on the occasion, as the Thracian ladies did when they dismembered Orpheus. The leaves are distributed among their customers with sundry articles of trade that have little connexion with classical fragments, whilst the |