ter an absence of seven months, it was discovered he never left London, but had married the daughter of an eminent soap-boiler, by which he netted 3000l.-This is a case of ten thousand!

PUGILISM.-Shaw, the Life Guardsman, who beat Painter at Hounslow, is expected to leave town almost immediately with his regiment, to show his courage in another mode of fighting against the enemies of his country. The pugilistic amateurs have lost some sport by warlike appearances, as a match between him and Oliver would have been made directly. Oliver consented to fight, provided he could receive the advice and training of the Gentleman who brought him so fine into the ring in his combat with Painter. seems to like Scots training, and the Gentleman alluded to agreed to countenance his efforts.

He

The late fight between Shelton and Harmer was for 100 guineas.

THE following action to recover money from a Stakeholder, was tried at the last Maidstone Assizes: -Petitt v. Phillips.-This was an action against the defendant to recover the sum of 101. which he held as stake holder, in the event of a foot race, which the plaintiff was to run from Gillingham churchyard to Gravesend church-yard and back, in three hours. The plaintiff was to make his way over the fields to Rochester, if he chose it, and from theuce on the turnpike road to Gravesend. In going over the fields, he was neither to be assisted by any one opening the gates for him, nor to be obstructed by any one shutting them, but he was to take his chance. The plaintiff claimed his money back again, on the ground that he lost his wager

through foul play, persons having gone before to shut the gates, in order to oppose his progress; and that the defendant had paid over the money improperly, without the consent of all parties concerned, which was a part of the original agreement. A witness called for the plaintiff proved, that he was not allowed to make his way fairly, but that per sons shut the gates in his way, which delayed him in opening them; and also that a person rode so close to him, that the horse trode on his heel.-On the other side, some witnesses were called to shew that he failed from want of physical strength, and that he was obliged to go into an apothecary's shop for relief on the way. It not, however, appearing whether this was not occasioned by the improper treading on his heel by the horse, the Jury, after some hesitation, found a verdict for the plaintiff for his ten pounds.

PEDESTRIAN FEAT.--Mr. Brooke, an officer in a Royal Regiment of Horse Guards, undertook, for a considerable wager, to go from Windsor to London on foot, and return in ten hours. He started from the barracks on Saturday morning, the 25th ult. at five o'clock, and returned to the same place at twenty-five minutes past two, having thirty-seven minutes to spare.

ON Wednesday, March 15, Thomas Harris was removed from Reading, 'to the depot for his Majesty's land service, Isle of Wight, pursuant to his sentence, be having been convicted of unlawfully carrying a gun in the night time in Haremoore Wood, Wood, Faringdon, with intent to kill and destroy game.

POETRY.

EPILOGUE,

To a new Tragedy (written by Mrs. Wilmot) and produced on Saturday, the 22d of April, at Drury-Lane Theatre, entitled "INA."

WRITTEN BY THOS. MOORE, ESQ.

Till the next quarter brings a new-fledg'd pair.

"Inspir'd by me," (pursued this waggish Fairy)

"That best of wives and Sapphos, Lady Mary,

"Votary alike of Crispin, and the Muse, "Makes her own splay-foot epigrams and shoes.

"For me the eyes of young Camilla shine,

"And mingle Love's blue brilliancies with mine;

"For me she sits apart, from coxcombs shrinking,

"Looks wise, the pretty soul! and thinks she's thinking.

"By my advice Miss Indigo attends "Lectures on Memory, and assures her friends

"Ponhonour!-(mimicks)-nothing can surpass the plan

"Of that Professor-(trying to recollect) pshaw that Memory-man"That-what's his name?-him I attended lately

"Pon honour, he improved my memory greatly!"

Here, curtseying low, I ask'd the bluelegg'd Sprite

What

Or sun crown the hill-top with gold, Of moon strew with silver the plain, Still onward my course will I hold, Till I meet my dear lost-one again.

O! Fortune, stand now but auspicious, Make love and a cottage my doom, Of treasure or pomp unambitious,

My prayer shall not farther presume. Or sun crown the hill-top with gold, Or moon strew with silver the plain, Still onward my course will I hold, Till I meet my dear lost-one again.

AIR-Mr. Sinclair.

Native Spain, adieu for ever!

Lov'd and lovely, glorious Spain! Mine are banish'd feet that never Dare to press thy turf again. Once these eyes illum'd with gladness, While they scann'd thy beauties o'er, Now their orbs dissolve in sadness,

Gazing now, to gaze no more.
Life and choice of change remain-
Fare thee well, dear native Spain!

Native Spain! tho' fate may banish
And command me far to part;
Never can thy mem'ry vanish,

From this glowing, grateful heart,
Let an Indian solstice burn me,

Inward on my heart I'll turn me,
Let the snows of Norway chill,

There, my country! thou art still-
Life and choice of change remain-
Fare thee well, dear native Spain !

All fairy-land wakes and keeps holiday! To the water-fall's sound,

Round, round, and around,

"Ah! nay courteous Father! right onward I rove,

"No rest but the grave, for the Pilgrim of Love!"

SONGS,

In the new Opera of "THE UNKNOWN GUEST," produced this month at DruryLane Theatre.

SONG-Miss Kelly.

Court;

AIR-Miss Stephens.

Fenc'd round by brake, and lawn, and wood,

The cottage of my father stood;
A decent plenty once his share,
And I was born a prosp'rous heir.
But ruthless war soon marr'd our lot,
In ruin lies that native cot;

That fire too,where shall sorrow end?
Ah! who will prove his Orphan's friend?

Now reft of father, fortune, home,
An outcast thro' the world I roam,"
On stranger's bounty doom'd to live,
And beg those alms I once could give.
On suppliant knees, each closing day,
With prayers I strive my debt to pay :
And still implore just Heaven to send
A blessing on the Orphan's friend!

And finds her heart consenting, Too soon he scorns the easy prize,

And leaves her to repenting; Then, vain are all her arts to please; You feel no pity-Do you? But cry-"Good woman, cease to teaze, "And here's my service to you."

Then while my hand and choice are free,

To man I'll make resistance;
I'll teach you men my slaves to be,

And keep your proper distance :
For while I lead you in my chain,

You feel no triumph-Do you? Just now, good Sir, you plead in vain, And so my service to you.

SONG-Mr. Braham.

The Knight was brave, the Maid was fair,

Who roam'd the thicket wild-
Her life, his arm had rescu'd there,
Tho' she his foe-man's child.
He dar'd not own that fatal name

Which might her hatred move,
But urg'd in borrow'd guise his flame,
And won that lady's love.

Oh, Lady, list the Warrior's lay,
'Tis a tale of times long pass'd away.

In vain she sooth'd the secret strife
His tortur'd bosom bore;
He lov'd that Lady dear as life;
But he lov'd honour more.
He left her, and in battle sought

His plighted truth to prove;
There, to redeem his name he fought,
Or die for her and love.

Oh, Lady, list the Warrior's lay,
'Tis a tale of times long pass'd away.

BALLAD Master Barnet.

The Woodman's life, tho' doom'd to toil, Is blest beyond what wealth can give; And dear to him his native soil,

That bids him independent live! And if a care the morning knows,

That frowns upon his humble lot; How sweet at eve the calm repose

That smiles upon the Woodman's cot!

At early day he loves to hear

TOBACCO.

WHAT a charming composer a PIPE is,
We smoke, and we puff away care,
We muse on whatever is pleasing,
And grievances vanish in air.
Should Fortune be rather uncivil,
And play you an ill-natured joke,
Take a PIPE and you think no more of it,
'Tis smother'd and lost in the smoke.
Should your wife be addicted to scolding,
You smoke, and you turn a deaf ear;
With your pipe then you gravely turn
round

Saying, what is the matter my dear?

STANZAS FROM THE PERSIAN.

FAIR one! take this Rose and wreathe it
A brighter bloom will rest beneath it,
In thy braided hair;-

Take this Rose, my Fair!

The flower, which late was seen to glow,
So lovely on that snowy brow,
Lov'd thy lip, and lightly shed
A dewy leaf of rosy red,

To blush for ever there.

Take thy Lily, Love! and twine it
With thy waving hair ;-

The sweetest music to his ear,

To list the falling axe around; And tho' some care his labour knows, Yet health and freedom are his lot; And sweet at eve the calm repose

That smiles upon the Woodman's cot!

Take the flower, my Fair! And yet its leaflets, pure and pale, In beauty, on thy brow will fail ;— That brow attracts all eyes to thee, And none will choose or chance to see, The Lily fading there.