ences to actions apparently irreconcilable. To this must it be attributed that the gravest and most saturnine, will sometimes indulge in fits of jocularity, a fact which T. H. would otherwise explain, but in my opinion with too strict a leaning towards anatomy, by referring it to man's possessing a funny bone and an os humerus. The stupidest person I ever knew, a mere sensualist, a gourmand, and a gourmet, composed one of the prettiest little poems I ever read. Scaliger said that he would rather have written Horace's Ode-" Quem tu, Melpomene," than be made King of Arragon; and for my own part, I would rather have indited the following stanzas, than be promoted to the Laureatship!

That my friend, a dull, plodding fellow, whose great business it had hitherto been to eat, drink, and sleep, should spread his fancy's wings, and indulge in a poetical flight, is perhaps less marvellous, than that, the first and only essay of his muse, should exhibit a tenderness so touching, combined with aspirations so delicate and ethereal. But we must not tantalise the reader by withholding from him any longer our author's

LOVE SONG.

What mistress half so dear as mine,

Half so well dress'd, so pungent, fragrant,
Who can such attributes combine,

To charm the constant, fix the vagrant?

Who can display such varied arts,

To suit the taste of saint and sinner,
Who go so near to touch their hearts,
As thou, my darling, dainty dinner?

Still my breast owns a rival queen,

A bright-eyed nymph, of sloping shoulders,
Whose ruddy cheeks and graceful mien,
Entrance the sense of all beholders.
Oh! when thy lips to mine are press'd,
What transports titillate my throttle!
My love can find new life and zest,

In thee, and thee alone, my bottle!