may boast sufficient experience to assume the entire care and conduct of a practice, and take the burden from the shoulders of his employer, for which his reward will be about 35s. per week. This may be called the standard salary for the best managing clerks, doubtless, with some exceptions, but few ever receive more, unless, perchance, their good genius places them in the employment of a liberal man who appreciates the services of his clerk, in an honorable and considerate manner; but such a one, in the profession of the law, may with truth be denominated a rara avis.

It may here be noticed, that in all these different grades, it is always expected that the clerk maintain a neat, genteel, and respectable appearance; but any person who will take the trouble to place himself in the Rule office, Symond's Inn, on the first day of term, will observe how far the generality are able to comply with that requisition. Indeed, the highest salary enumerated, is insufficient to support a man and his wife and family in a state of respectability.

There are some few houses in London who allow their clerks very fair and liberal salaries; but let it be remembered, that those are the select few. The preceding pages speak of them; and it may also be observed, that the grievances complained of relate principally to junior clerks: managers, in most instances, are free from them; but to them the juniors are, in many cases, indebted, for some of the impositions which are laid upon them, for the purpose of saving the superior clerk trouble. And now, gentle reader, fare thee well! I have made a statement of facts as they really are, and the truth of which I challenge any attorney on the Roll to deny. Personality I have avoided, or nu

merous instances might be adduced in proof the statements made.

It is not for an humble individual, like myself, to attempt the remedy of such great and keenlyfelt evils as the two principal ones complained of, viz. low salaries, and late hours; it is not to be accomplished by the single-handed exertions of any one, yet I cannot but think that the daily sacrifice of health, morals, and honest principles, caused to one numerous body of persons, by the avarice and selfish feeling of another, as worthy the attention of a generous-minded and impartial British public.

AN ATTORNEY'S CLERK.
Varieties.

JOHN KEMBLE.

Perhaps no actor of any age or country, Garrick excepted, lived upon such intimate and equal terms with the great as Kemble. There was such a natural patent of gentility about him, that the highest nobility gave way to it. He and Talma were the last of their caste. There are now perfect gentlemen on the stage,--but the heroic age of the theatre is over. To observe to any gentleman now, that he drank, would be to utter a disgraceful reproach; yet up to the last quarter of the century, the male nobility, and even royalty of Great Britain, gave themselves up to inebriety. At the Marquess of A-'s,* Kemble was seated between two Scotch Dukes of Hand of A. The conversation turned upon genealogy, and the two Peers grew warm upon the relative antiquity of their houses. Kemble, who had not drunk pending the argument, and who saw with despair the bottle in abeyance between their Graces, after mut

tering his impatience for some time, broke out on a sudden with "Damn both your bloods, send round the wine."-Book of the Boudoir.

TO LORD BYRON.

The church of Hucknal, where the family vault of the Byrons is, presents an unsightly object in a most secluded village, to which one has access by most vile roads, about three miles distant from Newstead Abbey. It is here the urn, containing the heart and brains of Lord Byron, are disgraced (as I must say) by the paltry memorials, erected more in his mockery than in his honor. The vault is under the chief end of the church; and the access to it is by the removal of a flag, with a large iron ring attached. Here nine of the family are laid-and here he, the greatest of them, is recorded as if he were but the sorry poet of the parish. There is no monument-there is no inscription written by one of his inspired friends--there is no commemoration of his works--the only tribute is a bit of white marble plastered into the wall, on which the following paltry epitaph

is written :

In the Vault beneath, Where many of his Ancestors and his Mother are

buried,

Lie the remains of
George Gordon Noel Byron,
Lord Byron of Rochdale,

In the County of Lancaster,

The Author of "Childe Harold's Pilgrimage." He was born on the 22d of January, 1788. He died at Missolonghi, in Western Greece, The 19th of August, 1824, Engaged in the glorious attempt to restore that country to her ancient freedom and renown. We made several inquiries in the neighbourhood about the habits of Lord Byron in his youth, or when he was last a resident of the Abbey; but we found no one, even in appearance, the least interested in his memory. As the property has passed from his family, the recollection of the family seems to pass away; and, in a few years, the seat of his birth, and of his

eternal rest, will be the only places where he will be forgotten.

The Leipsic Fair Catalogue gives a list of 3160 works published during the preceding six months, and announces 356 new works as ready to appear.

OXFORD BON MOTS.

Dr. Barton, warden of Merton College, Oxford, received a morning visit in the closet, as the French would call it. The visitor, Dr. Sibthorp, said to him, " Mr. Warden, why do you sit in such a little place as this? You have not room to swing a cat."-" I do not want to swing a cat, Dr. Sibthorp."

He invited, for the love of punning, Mr. Crowe and Mr. Rook to dine with him; and having given Mr. Birdmore, another guest, a hint to be rather after the time, on his appearing, said, "Mr. Rook! Mr. Crowe! I beg leave to introduce one Bird more."

He married his niece to a gentleman of the hopeful name of Buckle. The enterprise succeeded beyond his expectation. Mrs. Buckle was delivered of twins.

"A pair of Buckles !"--" Boys or girls?" said a congratulating friend; the answer may be supposed.

The

On the day when the news of the decease of the ex-Emperor reached the Tuilleries, Louis XVIII. was surrounded by a brilliant Court, all of whom, with the exception of one man, received the intelligence with the most unequivocal signs of delight. This man was general Rapp, who burst into tears. King perceived and noticed it. "Yes, sire," answered the General, "I do weep for Napoleon; and you will excuse it, for to him I owe everything in the world, even the honour of now serving your Majesty, since it was he that made me what I am!" The King, in an

A parish in Lincolnshire was, some years ago, the residence of a Sir John Trollop, in which he displayed many acts of liberality; among others, he beautified the church, and erected a lofty spire. The inhabitants, to testify their gratitude, and to perpetuate the memory of their generous benefactor, caused a statue to be erected in the church, with one hand pointing up to the steeple, and the other downward to the spot where his remains were to be intered, and under this figure were engraved the following curious lines:

This is the effigy of Sir John Trollop,
Who caus'd those stones, that spire to roll up;
And when that God does take his soul up,
His body is to fill that hole up.

Imprimis, I give to the Sexton, for digging my grave, my tobacco-box.Item, to the Clerk, for two staves, my gin-bottle with silver top.-Item, to our mounted whip, with old Merrilass and sporting Parson, Dr. Dasher, my silverher litter of puppies engraved thereon, for a funeral Sarment (if he can make one), on the following text-" Foxes have holes," &c.

Original Poetry.

THE FIELD.
(For the Portfolio.)

On the lonely Field I stood,

The Garden of the Dead!
Nor few were then my dreamy thoughts,
Nor few the tears I shed!
On the sacred Field, I stood,

All lights had died away,
Save that the watching stars put forth,
A sick lugubrious ray!
On the silent Field I stood,

One sound alone came by:
The drowsy voice of slumb'ring leaves
Wak'd by the dull wind's sigh:
Aye, the starry hosts might well

Look down with blighted ray;
And winds and boughs wail fitfully
For Youth's and Love's decay!
But their sadness could not urge

To deeper grief my breast, When harrow'd 'twas to frenzy

For the lov'd, long since at rest: When my thoughts and tears were pray'rs, Wild prayers, for slumbers deep With those, whose dream is-Paradise, When wrapt in mortal sleep!

THE DISCONTENTED. "Why have I sense to know the curse that's on me ?-Otway."

(For the Portfolio.)

They say my heart is cold and dead,
And that my love is less;
That all my former flame is fled-
And my words are meaningless!
Yes-I would be that thing so low,

So dull, and woe-begone!
That my life's curse I might not know,
Or feel the proud world's scorn.
They say that hope once lit my brow,

And my soul was noble then; But mine eye doth lack its lustre now, And I shun my fellow men: Yes yes, my once proud spirit's cold, By a world of guilt and guile; Where coward slaves of base-born mould, Will murder while they smile. JAMES BRUTON.

OF

IN

THE civil wars rendered the Gnomes divided and unhappy; when the Queen of the Genii, desirous of maintaining harmony amongst her subjects, sent Nirsa, the prettiest of the fays who formed part of her court, to arbitrate their differences, and to give them, with peace, the blessings of which she is the source. The charming Nirsa, descend ing to the centre of the earth, soon re-established tranquillity amongst the factious Guomes, and satisfied with the result of her mission, she quitted them for that brilliant abode wherein the Fairy Queen resided. In ascending towards the ethereal regions, Nirsa reposed in her car, wrapped in thought, when the doves, which bore it rapidly Translated purposely for

No. 174.-3d. S.

*

along, dazzled by that sunlight to which they had been strangers for many days, insensibly dropped towards the earth. Nirsa, accidentally casting down her eyes, found herself hovering over a delightful and solitary grove. At the foot of a sycamore sat two persons of either sex, apparently penetrated with profound grief; as they mingled their tears evidently from the same cause. The compassionate fairy deemed, that the highest prerogative of power is to confer happiness, therefore directing the flight of her doves to the earth, whilst they gently bore her thither, she consulted a metallic tablet, whereon all that she desired to know continually engraved itself, and whereon she now this work from the French.

read the history of these lovers. Nadine, daughter of a priest of Vishnon, had been brought up with Zulmio, whose parents were also consecrated to the service of that god. On the promise of an oracle their marriage was projected-they were allowed to associate with each other-to speak without interruption; and this license insensibly induced in their bosoms the soft emotions of love. Nadina, adored by Zulmio, loved him also passionately; still there were obstacles to their union, to destroy which, the sage Alibeck travelled in search of a wonderous water, and for two years they had waited his return. Now, Alibeck was no more, and they knew it not! Zulmio, endowed with every quality which renders man delightful, had never seen the light! his darkened eyes had never beheld the charms of Nadina, to whom yet his soul was attached by ties more powerful than those woven by mere beauty: yes-sweetness, goodness, equality of temper, with nobleness of disposition and of sentiment, enchained him to a heart so fully framed to appreciate the qualities of his own. The mother of Nadina, initiated in the mysteries of Zoroaster, imagined from a superstition originating in the untutored ideas of the Magi, that the blindness of Zulmio was a mark of reprobation. "Whom the sun loves," said she," he enlightens; let Zulmio, if he will, appease his wrath, or let him relinquish Nadina." The oracle, previously consulted, had asserted that Zulmio would see the light ere he completed his twentieth year: the sage, Alibeck, who was to bring the miraculous water from the source of Zetma, was not returned: this day, the last one of so cherished a hope, must render the lovers miserable for ever, since in an hour Zulmio

would have completed the predicted term, and being yet blind, the priests of Vishnon would come, sever their hands, rend their hearts, and cruelly separate these dear friends, oblige them to discharge each other from their mutual vows of fidelity. Thus was it, that in expectation of this fatal moment, Zulmio and Nadina wept, groaned, and vowed to adore each other for ever! Nirsa had no occasion to learn more; quitting her car, and desiring to assume the form of Alibeck, she immediately appeared as a venerable old man; but under what figure soever it pleased the fay to shew herself to mankind, she still retained the privileges of her nature her soul, superior to that of any mortal, continually enlightened and directed the children of the dust; and as a person masked, on viewing himself in a glass, is struck by the sight of a visage different from his own, and yet loses not the memory of his real features, so the fairy, speaking and acting like the being whose figure she assumed, forgot not that she was Nirsa.

With a slow and majestic step she advanced towards the spot whither the desire of obliging drew her: Nadina perceived, uttered a cry of joy, and running to meet her, exclaimed, "O, Sage! beloved of heaven! O, Alibeck! do I indeed behold you? Do you come to fulfil our desires? to saction our vows? to bring the divine specific? to render us happy? How many tears has your long absence cost us! whilst, yet a moment, and I should have lost Zulmio for ever!" So saying, she conducted Nirsa to her lover, whom the fairy contemplated with delight. The freshness of early youth adorned his complexion with the liveliest colours; his form was tall, graceful, and light; his fea