In vain I tried the cause to smoke, 7. But soon a mutual friend contriv'd Our quarrel up to botch; Fanny confess'd her temper warm'Twas natural-she was Scotch. 8. We married-snugly in my shop And all the neighbourhood declare, SAM SAM'S SON. THE LORD CHANCELLOR. The title of chancellor originated with the Romans. It was adopted by the church, and became a half ecclesiastic, and half lay office. The chancel.or was intrusted with all public instruments which were authenticated; and when seals came into use, the custody of them was confided to that officer. The mere delivery of the king's great seal, or the taking it away, is all the ceremony that is used in creating or unmaking a chancellor, the officer of the greatest weight and power subsisting in the kingdom. The first chancellor in England was appointed in the reign of William the Conqueror, and with only one exception, it was enjoyed by ecclesiastics until the time of Elizabeth, when such officers were called keepers of the great seal. From the time of sir Thomas More's appointment, which took place in the reign of Henry VIII., there is only one instance of a clergyman having been elevated to the office-namely, Dr. Williams, dean of Westminster, in the time of James I.-The chancellor is a privy counsellor by office, and speaker: of the house of lords by prescription. To him belongs the appointment of all justices of the peace throughout the kingdom. When the chancellor was an ecclesiastic, he became keeper of the king's conscience, and remained so. He is also visitor of all hospitals and colleges of the king's foundation. He is patron of all livings under twenty pounds per annum in the king's book. He is the general guardian of all infants, idiots, and lunatics, and has the superintendence of all charitable institutions in the kingdom. He takes precedent of every temporal lord, except the royal family, and of all others, except the archbishop of Canterbury. It is declared treason by statute of Edward III. to slay the chancellor in his place, and doing his office.-In the year 1689, there were commissioners appointed for executing the office of lord chancellor. Anonymiana. THE GREAT LORD CHANCELLOR. Sir Thomas More, when at the bar, is said to have undertaken only such causes as appeared just to his conscience, and never to have accepted a fee from a widow, orphan, or poor person; yet he acquired by his practice the considerable sum, in those days, of four hundred pounds per annum. When he rose to the height of his profession, his diligence was so great, that one day being in court he called for the next cause, on which it was answered, that there were no more suits in chancery. This made a punning bard of that time thus express himself: "When More some years had chancellor been, The same shall never more be seen, CHANCERY. Cancellæ are lattice-work, by which the chancels being formerly parted from the body of the church, they took their names from thence. Hence, too, the court of chancery and the lord chancellor borrowed their names, that court being enclosed with open work of that kind. And, so, to cancel a writing is to cross it out with the pen, which naturally makes something like the figure of a lattice. DILIGENCE AND DELIGHT. It is a common observation, that unless a man takes a delight in a thing, he will never pursue it with pleasure or assiduity. Diligentia, diligence, is from diligo, to love. PAMPHLET, PALM, PALMISTRY. Pamphlet.This word is ancient, see Lilye's Euphnes, p. 5; Lambarde's Perambulation of Kent, p. 188; Hearne's Cur. Disc. p. 130; Hall's Chronicle, in Edward V. f. 2; Richard III. f. 32; Skelton, p. 47; Caxton's Preface to his Virgil, where it is written paunflethis; Oldys's British Librarian, p. 128; Nash, p. 3, 64; and also his preface, wherein he has the phrase, pamphlet on a person," and pampheleter, p. 30. "to The French have not the word pamphlet, and yet it seems to be of French extraction, and no other than palm-feuillet, a leaf to be held in the hand, a book being a thing of a greater weight. So the French call it. now feuille volante, retaining one part of the compound. Palm is the old French word for hand, from whence we have palmistry, the palm of the hand, a palm or span, and to palm a card, and from thence the metaphor of palming any thing upon a person. CAMBRIDGE WIT. A gentleman of St. John's College, Cambridge, having a clubbed foot, which occasioned him to wear a shoe upon it of a particular make, and with a high heel, one of the college wits called him Bildad the shuhite. GRADUAL REFORM. When lord Muskerry sailed to Newfoundland, George Rooke went with him a volunteer George was greatly addicted to lying; and my lord, being very sensible of it, and very familiar with George, said to THE CHILD OF MIGHT. For the Table Book. War was abroad, and the fleeting gale Brought the summoning sound of the clarion's blast- On the valour and youth that went forth to the tomb- Banner and spear gleam'd in the sun And the laugh was loud as the day were won: Woe to thee, Child of Pride and Might. 'Tis the hour of battle, the hosts are met, J. J. K. This is another of the criers of a hundred years ago, and, it seems, he cried "NewRiver water." The cry is scarce, though scarcely extinct, in the environs of London. I well remember the old prejudices of oldfashioned people in favour of water brought to the door, and their sympathy with the complaints of the water-bearer. "Fresh and fair new River-water! none of your pipe sludge!" vociferated the water-bearer. "Ah dear!" cried his customers, "Ah dear! Well, what'll the world come to!-they wo'n't let poor people live at all by and by-here they're breaking up the ground, and we shall be all under water some day or other with their goings on-I'll stick to the carrier as long as he has a pail-full and I've a penny, and when we haven't we must all go to the workhouse together." This was the talk and the reasoning of many honest people within my recollection, who preferred taxing themselves to the daily payment of a penny and often twopence to VOL. I.-24. Garrick Plays. No. XXI. [From Sir Richard Fanshaw's Translation of "Querer Por Solo Querer"-" To love for love's sake"-a Romantic Drama, written in Spanish by Mendoza: 1649.] Felisbravo, Prince of Persia, from a Picture sent him of the brave Amazonian Queen of Tartary, Zelidaura, becoming enamoured, sets out for that realm; in his way thither disenchants a Queen of Araby; but first, overcome by fatigue, falls asleep in the Enchanted Grove, where Zelidaura herself coming by, steals the Picture from him. The passion of the Romance arises from his remorse at being taken so negligent; and her disdain that he should sleep, having the company of her Picture. here plays upon him, who does not yet know her, in the disguise of a Rustic. Fel. What a spanking Labradora! She Zel. You, the unkent Knight, God ye gud mora !* Fel. The time of day thou dost mistake. Zel. and joy Fel. - of what? Zel. That I discover, By a sure sign, you are awake. Fel. Awake? the sign Zel. Your being a lover. Fel. In love am I? Zel. - and very deep. Fel. Deep in love! how is that seen? Zel. Perfectly. You do not sleep. Fel. Rustic Excellence, unscreen, And discover that sweet face, Which covers so much wit and grace. Zel. You but dream so: sleep again, And forget it. Fel. Why, now, Saint? Zel. Why, the Lady, that went in, t Looks as if that she did paint. Fel. What has that to do with sleeping? She is indeed angelical. Zel. That picture now's well worth your keeping. For why? 'tis an original. Fel. Is this Shepherdess a Witch? Or saw the sleeping treason, which I committed against Love Me hast thou ever seen before? Zel. Seen? aye, and know thee for a man Fel. Unveil, by Jove, that face serene. Zel. What, to make thee sleep again? Fel. Still in riddles ? Zel. Now he sees: This pinching wakes him by degrees. Fel. Sleep I indeed, or am I mad? Zel. None serve thee but the Enchanted Queen? Zel. Sir Gallant, not so fast. Zel. See me you shall: But touch not fruit you must not taste. (She takes off her veil.) What says it, now the leaf doth fall? Fel. It says, 'tis worthy to comprize But Paradise doth grow in it. The tall and slender trunk no less divine, (He begins to know her.) This should be that so famous Queen Zel. What stares the man at? A Picture-I once mine did call- Zel. Fall'n again asleep you are: We poor human Shepherd Lasses Who skip their rank, themselves and betters wrong: Which fringed with borrow'd flowers (he has Is heaven's proper looking-glass, and bore On a mountain, called THERE. Fel. Wear'st thou ever heretofore Lady's clothes? Zel. I Lady's gear?→→→ Yes-what a treacherous poll have I →→ In a Country Comedy I once enacted a main part; Still I have it half by heart: Would fool, when she was in the vein, To my taste this is fine, elegant, Queenlike raillery; a second part of Love's Labours Lost, to which title this extraordinary Play has still better pretensions than even Shakspeare's for after leading three pair of Royal Lovers thro' endless mazes of doubts, difficulties; oppositions of dead fathers' wills; a labyrinth of losings and findings; jealousies; enchantments; conflicts with giants, and single-handed against armies; to the exact state in which all the Lovers might with the greatest propriety indulge their reciprocal wishes-when, the deuce is in it, you think, but they must all be married now-suddenly the three Ladies turn upon their Lovers; and, as an exemplification of the moral of the Play, "Loving for loving's sake," and a hyper-platonic, truly Spanish proof of their affections demand that the Lovers shall consent to their mistresses' taking upon them the vow of a single life; to which the Gallants with becoming refinement can do less than consent. The fact is that it was a Court Play, in which the Characters; males, giants, and all; were played by females, and those of the highest order of Grandeeship. nobleman might be permitted amongst them; and it was against the forms, that a great Court Lady of Spain should consent to such an unrefined motion, as that of wedlock, though but in a play. No Appended to the Drama, the length of which may be judged from its having taken nine days in the representation, and me three hours in the reading of it-hours well wasted-is a poetical account of a fire, which broke out in the Theatre on one of the nights of its acting, when the whole Dramatis Personæ were nearly burnt, because the common people out of "base fear," and the Nobles out of "pure respect," could not think of laying hands upon such " great Donnas;" till the young King, breaking the etiquette, by snatching up his Queen, and bearing her through the flames upon his back, the Grandees, (dilatory Æneases), followed his example, and each saved one (Anchises-fashion), till the whole Courtly Company of Comedians were got off in tolerable safety.-Imagine three or four stout London Firemen on such an occasion, standing off in mere respect! C. L. THE STUART PAPERS, IN POSSESSION OF THE KING. correctly speaking, the English public at In the year 1817 the public, or, more Rome, were much excited by the report of a very singular discovery. The largest and the most interesting collection of papers relating to the Stuart family, probably existing, was suddenly recovered. The circumstances connected with the discovery are curious. Dr. W., whose residence on the continent for many years had been unceasingly devoted to every species of research which could tend to throw light on the antiquities of his country and the history of her kings, had in the Scotch col lege at Paris, after much patient investigation, arrived at the knowledge of some Gaelic MSS., and, what may be perhaps deemed of more consequence, of several papers relating to the dethroned family. The Gaelic MSS., it was imagined, would throw some light on the quarrel de lana caprina of the Ossian "remains," a name which, as it has been given to the Iliad and Odyssey, cannot be considered as an insult to the claims of the Irish or Scottish phantom which has been conjured up under the name of Ossian: but the Journals, &c., though they added little to his actual infor mation, and communicated few facts not hitherto before the public, had at least the merit of placing the end of the clue in his hand, and hinting first the probability of a more productive inquiry elsewhere. occurred to him that after the demise of James II., as the majority of the family habitually resided at Rome, much the greater number of interesting documents ought still to be discoverable in that city, and, whatever facilities might originally have existed, they must have been increased considerably, and indeed enhanced by the late extinction of the direct line in the person of the cardinal de York.* His journey It * His Royal Highness the Cardinal de York, or as he was sometimes called," Your Majesty," reposes in the subterraneous church of St. Peter, under a plain sar |