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Beneath these, in another hand, are the following lines:

Friend, you mistake the matter quite !
How can you say that woman's light?
Poor Cornuo swears, throughout his life,
His heaviest plague has been a wife.”

Another lover has left a more chaste record of his passion on the shutter of a room, which some years ago was occasionally occupied as a lodging, at Enniskillen, in Ireland. How pathetically does he paint his sufferings in the following lines!

"For many a wistful hour, to pity dear,
A wanderer wove affection's vision here;
Kiss'd the memorial on his breast he wore,

And looked, till tears would let him look no more.
All that the heart at last might lean on-gone,
Yet madly did he languish-linger on-
Spent sighs, to which no sympathy was given,
And pledg'd wild vows, unheard of all-in heaven,
Went by the grave of love, nor owned despair,
Tho' not one flower of hope bloomed palely there—
Her eye-bright herald of a better mind-
Unkind, or only to the trifler kind—

That eye, for which his own in tears was dim,
Glanc'd smiles on all, but would not smile on him,
Whose heart alone, tho' broken to conceal,
Could feel it's fire-too deeply-finely feel.
In wayward thrall, thus many a day wan'd past,
But freedom came-his spirit woke at last-

Shook off the spell-marched-mingled with the brave,
And sought a resting place in glory's grave—
Oh! there, if laurel meed be haply wove,
Mix one pale willow too for slighted love."

A gentleman, who, in 1715, passed some time in prison, left the following memorial on the windows of his cell. On one pane of glass he wrote,

"That which the world miscals a gaol,

A private closet is to me;

Whilst a good conscience is my bail,

And innocence my liberty.

On another square he wrote, "Mutare vel timere sperno," and on a third pane, "Sed victa Catoni."

A few gentlemen, who stopped some time at an inn at Stockport, in 1634, left the following record of the bad reception they had met with, on the window of the inn.

"Si mores cupias venustiores,

Si lectum placidum, dapes salubres,
Si sumptum modicum, hospitem facetum,
Ancillam nitidam, impigrum ministrum,
Huc diverte, viator, dolebis.

O, domina dignas, formâ et fœtore ministras !
Stockportæ, si cui sordida grata, cubet."
Translation.

"If, traveller, good treatment be thy care,
A comfortable bed, and wholesome fare,
A modest bill, and a diverting host,
Neat maid, and ready waiter,-quit this coast.

If dirty doings please, at Stockport lie;

The girls, O frowzy frights, here with their mistress vie !" A modern cynic, who had travelled much, but found "His own best country still at home,"

had no sooner landed at Falmouth, than he inscribed the following record of his feelings, on the window of the inn.

"I have seen the specious, vain Frenchman, the truckling Dutchman; the tame Dane; the sturdy, self-righting Swede; the barbarous Russ; the turbulent Pole; the honest, dull German; the pay-fighting Swiss; the subtle splendid Italian; the salacious Turk; the sun-warming, lounging Maltese; the piratical Moor; the proud, cruel Spaniard; the bigoted, base Portuguese, with their countries;-and hail again! old England, my native land. Reader, if English, Scotch, or Irish, rejoice in the freedom that is the felicity of thy native land, and maintain it sound to posterity. April 14, 1753." The writer was T. Hollis, esq. of Corscombe.

EARL OF CHATHAM.

No statesman was ever more decidedly popular, than the great earl of Chatham. When, as Mr. Pitt, he was secretary of state, the whole nation rung with his praises. Almost every city in the kingdom, of any note, presented him with its freedom, in gold boxes, of considerable value. During the whole of his administration, envy itself was ready to allow, that no man ever shewed less regard for his own personal interest, or laboured so little to advance the welfare of his family. His most virulent enemies, while they railed at what they called his ambition, never breathed a whisper against his integrity. Such was the lustre of his character, that it com

pensated, in a pecuniary way, for what he relinquished by the strictness of his probity, and private individuals testified their admiration of his virtues in the most unequivocal manner. Sir William Pynsent, Bart. a gentleman of large property, who had been long an admirer of Mr. Pitt's public conduct; but who was neither allied to him in blood, nor connected with him by friendship, bequeathed his whole fortune to the "great commoner," as Mr. Pitt was then called. The motive of the bequest, so honourable to Mr. Pitt, was particularly specified in the will of the testator, who seemed to glory in an opportunity of rewarding a man who had acted so disinterested a part for his country.

Such was the popularity of Mr. Pitt during his administration, and his retirement from office, until he was raised to the peerage, by the title of the earl of Chatham, and honoured with the office of lord privy seal, in July, 1766. No sooner was this made known, than the tide of popularity turned; and a great portion of the artillery of the wit of the day was employed either to ridicule or abuse him. The squibs that appeared on this occasion, were innumerable. Scarcely a magazine or a newspaper, for many months, was without some epigram or satire on the "late great commoner;" and the press teemed with pamphlets, handbills, &c. on the same subject. That they were all illiberal, and most of them very unjust, the public conduct of the earl of Chatham fully proved, for he soon regained the public confidence, which he had certainly done nothing to forfeit. Among the satirical effusions to which we have alluded, the following possess the most point. They have been copied from a private collection made at the time.

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I.

"London, July 30, 1766.

Yesterday expired in a a fit of desperate frenzy, the once blazing William Pynsent, esq. which name he lately assumed upon the succession to an estate, which was left him by mistake. He has for some time laboured under a complication of lust of power and pension, treachery, ingratitude, disappointment, revenge, and mis-economy. But it is thought the immediate cause of his death was, a fracture in his head, followed with a delirium, occasioned by a fall from a precipice, where he was scrambling for a higher title, and a pension. He was led to this rock by a northern guide,* in whose conduct he placed more confidence than in the experienced affection of a friend, whose prudence and virtue had often saved him. He will shortly be interred in the usual state, in the dormitory of his

* Lord Bute.

political predecessors, whose virtues he equalled, and whose example he has followed. All ranks of people are in deep consternation for an accident so fatal to the name of patriotism; this event bringing to their remembrance the like miserable end of another W. P.* of glorious memory, who broke his neck about twenty-five years ago, and was buried in the same grave. What is very remarkable, the deceased bespoke a shroud for himself, trimmed with ermine, of the same pattern used on a former occasion."

II.

"This is to give notice, that if any honest man will leave his friends, his family, and his connections, he will meet with very good encouragement at the great house, the Patriot's Head, in Bond Street.

"N. B. No character is required, provided he ask no questions. If he can leave his feelings also behind him, so much the better, as they will not be wanted in his new situation."

III.

"The PITT, a first rate, being much damaged in the head in a late cruise on the coast of Scotland, is paid off, and laid up at Chatham, where she is to serve as a storeship. On examination, her timbers, which were supposed to have been true English heart of oak, turn out to be nothing more than mere scantlings of a rotten Scotch fir, brought up by the favourite, from Mount-Stewart, in Buteshire, and hewn by him into a proper form, at his dock-yard, near the Pay-office, in Westminster.

"It is much feared also, since this unhappy discovery, that the timbers of the Britannia, another first rate, will be all found to be unsound, and that most of the ships in the government's service will turn out to be composed of the same rotten materials."

IV.

"To be disposed of, considerably under prime cost,The stock in trade of an eminent patriot, consisting of a large assortment of confident assertions, choice metaphors, flowery similes, bold invectives, pathetic lamentations, and specious promises, all little worse for wear.

"The reason of their being sold is, that the proprietor has retired, and has now no further occasion for them.'

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V.

'We are informed, that the cities of London, Bath, and

Alluding to William Pulteney, earl of Bath.

many other corporations in this kingdom, intend to solicit from the heirs of a certain departed patriot, the return of the gold boxes, in which they presented the freedoms of their respective corporations to the said gentleman, before his late deplorable decease."

VI.

"This day is sold, for the benefit of his majesty's subjects, the only true court elixir, or grand specific, for the cure of the gout. To he had of the noted high German doctor, Baron Van Pynsent, at his seat near Chatham.

Also, prepared by the same hand, the pillula aurata, or right royal bolus, double gilt, being an admirable remedy for all persons afflicted with a volubility of tongue, and of sovereign use, long since, in curing that feverish disorder of the mind, called patriotism.

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N. B. Both these remedies are marked with the doctor's own privy seal, and all others who pretend to sell them must be counterfeits."

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VII.

"We hear, that a late great personage intends to publish an Essay on the Art of Sinking into Contempt.' Also, an 'Ode on the Pleasures of Unpopularity.'

VIII.

On a late Promotion.

"Be-flatter'd and be-prais'd, the commoner cried :
Daub me no more ;-I will be Buteified."

IX.

Epigram on the Great Commoner being made Lord Privy Seal and Earl of Chatham.

"Some folks still aver,

After this mighty stir,

That Pitt is become a new Bath;

Says my good lord of Chatham,

By Jove, I'll have at 'em,

And humble them all in my wrath.

"E'en let 'em complain,

What they say is in vain,

Once more I have got in the steerage;

I'll hug myself close,

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