in ambush in John's own house, and they all sixteen came upon my back, and let drive at me all together a plague, says Trim, of all cowards.

Trim repeated this story above a dozen times, which made some of the neighbours pity him, thinking the poor fellow crack-brained, and that he actually believed what he said.

After this, Trim dropped the affair of the breeches, and began a fresh dispute about the reading-desk, which I told you had occasioned some small dispute between the late parson and John some years ago. This reading-desk, as you will observe, was but an episode woven into the main story by-the-by, for the main affair was the battle of the breeches and the great-coat.

However, Trim being at last driven out of these two citadels-he has seized hold, in his retreat, of this reading-desk, with a view, as it seems, to take shelter behind it.

I cannot say but the man has fought it out obstinately enough, and, had his cause been good, I should have really pitied him. For when he was driven out of the great watch-coat, you see he did not run away; no-he retreated behind the bréeches; and, when he could make nothing of it behind the breeches, he got behind the readingdesk. To what other hold Trim will next retreat, the politicians of this village are not agreed. Some think his next move will be towards the rear of the parson's boot; but, as it is thought he cannot make a long stand there, others are of opinion, that Trim will once more in his life get hold of the parson's horse, and charge upon him, or perhaps behind him: but as the horse is not easy to be

caught, the more general opinon is, that, when he is driven out of the reading-desk, he will make his last retreat in such a manner, as, if possible, to gain the close-stool, and defend himself behind it to the very last drop.

If Trim should make this movement, by my advice he should be left beside his citadel, in full possession of the field of battle, where 'tis certain he will keep every body a league off, and may hop by himself till he is weary. Besides, as Trim seems bent on purging himself, and may have abundance of foul humours to work off, I think it cannot be better placed.

But this is all speculation-Let me carry you back to matter of fact, and tell you what kind of stand Trim has actually made behind the said desk: Neighbours and townsmen all, I will be sworn before my lord mayor, that John and his nineteen men in buckram have abused me worse than a dog; for they told you I play'd fast and go loose with the late parson and him, in that old dispute of theirs about the reading-desk, and that I made matters worse between them, and not better.'

Of this charge Trim declared he was as innocent as the child that was unborn-that he would be book-sworn he had no hand in it.

He produced a strong witness, and moreover in. sinuated, that John himself, instead of being angry for what he had done in it, had actually thanked him-Aye, Trim, says the wight in the plush breeches, but that was, Trim, the day before John found thee out. Besides, Trim, there is nothing in that, for the very year that you was made town's pounder, thou knowest well that I both thanked

thee myself, and moreover gave thee a good warm supper for turning John Lund's cows and horses out of my hard corn close, which if thou hadst not done, (as thou toldst me) I should have lost my whole crop; whereas John Lund and Thomas Patt, who are both here to testify, and are both willing to take their oaths on't, that thou thyself wert the very man who set the gate open-and after all, it was not thee, Trim, 'twas the blacksmith's poor lad who turned them out-so that a man may be thanked and rewarded too, for a good turn which he never did, nor ever did intend.

Trim could not sustain this unexpected strokeso Trim marched off the field without colours flyi ing, or his horn sounding, or any other ensigns of honour whatever-Whether after this Trim intends to rally a second time-or whether he may not take it into his head to claim the victory-none but Trim himself can inform you.

However, the general opinion upon the whole is this, that in three several pitch'd battles, Trim has been so trimm'd as never disastrous hero was trimm'd before.

N

OBSERVATIONS ON LIFE.

CONSOLATION.

BEFORE an affliction is digested, consolation ever comes too soon;-and after it is digested—it comes too late: there is but a mark between these two, as fine almost as a hair, for a comforter to take aim at.

T. SHANDY.

CRITICISM.

How did Garrick speak the soliloquy last night? -Oh, against all rule-my lord-most ungrammatically! betwixt the substantive and the adjective, which should agree together in number, case, and gender, he made a breach thus, stopping, as if the point wanted settling;-and betwixt the nominative case, which your lordship knows should govern the verb, he suspended his voice in the epilogue a dozen times, three seconds and three fifths by a stop-watch, my lord, each time-Admirable grammarian!-But in suspending his voice -was the sense suspended likewise? did no expression of attitude or countenance fill up the chasm? Was the eye silent? Did you narrowly

look!--I look'd only at the stop-watch, my lord.

-Excellent observer!

And what of this new book the whole world makes such a noise about! Oh! 'tis out of all plumb, my lord,—quite an irregular thing! not one of the angles at the four corners was a right angle. I had my rule and compasses, &c. my lord, in my pocket!--Excellent critic!

-And for the epic poem your lordship bid me look at-upon taking the length, breadth, height, and depth of it, and trying them at home upon an exact scale of Bossu's-'tis out, my lord, in every one of its dimensions.- -Admirable connoisseur!

-And did you step in, to take a look at the grand picture in your way back?-Tis a melancholy daub! my lord; not one principle of the pyramid in any one group!-and what a price!-for there is nothing of the colouring of Titian-the expres sion of Rubens-the grace of Raphael-the purity of Dominiclino-the corregiescity of Corregiothe learning of Poussin-the airs of Guido-the taste of Carrachio-or the grand contour of Angelo.

-Grant me patience, just Heaven!-Of all the cants which are canted in this canting world— though the cant of hypocrites may be the worst— the cant of criticism is the most tormenting!

I would go fifty miles on foot to kiss the hand of that man whose generous heart will give up the reigns of his imagination into his author's handsbe pleased he knows not why, and cares not wherefore.

T. SHANDY.