glorious name! the name of my son-inlaw. I am happy to know it. I shall attack the caravan of Mecca; I shall repeat aloud the name of my son-inlaw; and I shall have India, Armenia, Persia, Egypt, and Romelia, to bow the knee! I shall not leave them a single camel. But you have still your nose on the ground; rise, my fallen lion! rise at the name of my son-in-law; I command you to rise at the name of Il Bondocani. 'Yes, mother,' said Yemaleddin, 'I shall rise at that name, which all the earth must respect and adore! I shall rise at the name of the Prince of Princes, the King of Kings, the sage and magnanimous Haroun Alraschid! for your son-in-law, Il Bondocani, is the Caliph himself!' The confusion of Lalemain may be easily guessed, when she reflected how she had abused Haroun to his face. Mesrour now appeared, and announced the arrival of the Commander of the Faithful. Lelamain was going to hide herself; but she was prevented by her son and daugter. Haroun now appeared, arrayed in all the splendour of majesty. Lelamain, Yemaleddin, and Zutulbe, fell prostrate before him; but they were raised from the ground by their tender and benevolent sovereign. He spoke to Lelamain and Zutulbe in the kindest manner, and ordered them to be conveyed to the palace in a superb litter, whilst he followed on horse-back, between Giafar and Yemaleddin, who was that day married to the Princess of Persia. The happiness of Lelamain was now complete; she no longer read the Koran at the door of the mosque, or asked alms from the deaf. Had one person heard her, nobody would have cried a wonder, the Caliph would not have seen that most ravishing of all wonders, Zutulbe; Yemaleddin had been a false prophet. It must be allowed, that the stars direct events by threads, so fine, that they are imperceptible to the eyes of weak mortals. MISERIES OF AN APPRENTICE. (For the Casket.) Mr. EDITOR,-Aided by the swif progress of that friend and foe to the man race, Time, I at length hail the last year of my apprenticeship; Oh! how my thoughts revel in the luxuriant liberty which I anticipate; how I delight in the idea, that 'op'ning and shutting shop,' early hours, and all those inconveniences we apprentices are 'heirs to,' will shortly come to a termination. Excuse, I beg, Mr. Editor, this rhapsody, for really the object of my hope appears to me, and (doubtless to many others in my situation) a consummation' so' devoutly to be wished,' that I have noted down for the edification of those among your readers, who know nothing of an apprenticeship but the name, a few of the miseries which, alas, it entails. It was on the 1st of September, 1820, that I was taken from school, and the delights of plum-cake and pocket-money, and placed behind the counter in a stationer's shop. Mr. B. my master, was about forty years of age, had a wife a few years younger, and two daughters of the ages of twelve and five, and was what the world calls a very good sort o' man.' 1st year Cold weather coming on, find it very unpleasant to turn out of bed before light; and to sweep the shop before breakfast, Sent, in a pouring rain to fetch the children from school; got wet through, and a lecture into the bargain for being too long gone. Summer come-Mrs. B. and children gone to Margate. Mr. B. goes weekly; obliged to attend him to the boat, carry portmanteau, &c.-thought it too bad, and more than I had any right to do. N.B. At Easter discovered Mr B. allowed no holidays, always takes stock on Good Friday.' 2nd year-Mr. B. resolved to burn no more gas, so smoky,' has oil insteadevery day get it all over me when cleaning the lamps; as greasy as a butcher, to say nothing of the smell. N.B. One day putting the oil away on shelf, let it fall-received a considerable portion in my mouth, the rest anointed my clothes. Ask'd leave to go to an Oratorio ; did not get back till half-past 11-got soundly rated, threatened that I should never go out again. Tom, my fellow-apprentice, and I, amused ourselves with squirts; Tom discharged his at me and retreated by the back-door, behind which I stationed myself; door opened, and I let fly at master's shirt frill as he entered, taking out all "the starch; had the starch taken out of me in return, and was convinced of my error by some very striking arguments. 3rd year-Quarrel with my fellow apprentice, get in a passion, and then laughed at, speak saucy, and finish by receiving a sound drubbing. Want a new hat-father very cross6 cost him a great deal of money, can't afford new hats so often,'-not able to get a coat any how. Walk across the clean kitchen with dirty boots, housemaid affronted-laugh at her-pail of water thrown over menearly half drowned. 4th year-Fellow-apprentice out of his time; Mr. B. finds trade so bad can't take another-get every thing to do myself. Go out in a very sulky humour to take a book home-take no careknocked down in the mud-book spoiled-customer affronted ;-master in a violent passion; declared at last he never had any body so careless in his life.' 5th year-Got leave to go to Drury. lane, seated in the pit-row in the gallery, apples thrown on the stage-looked up to see what was the matter-had one thrown in my eye;-got home lateblack eye-accused of fighting and getting into bad company. Forgot to book something sent outreceived a number of hard words, as ' idle,'' inattentive,' &c. Got three days holidays-went down tó Gravesend-stopt as late as possible- missed the coach, and steam-packet -obliged to come by the sailing-boatbecalmed-didn't get home till next day -all laid to me should have come away sooner,'' did not miss the coach' and such like. 6th year-Fell desperately in love with a fine young girl who came to buy paper-found means to speak to herthought she liked me;-not able to get out of an evening to meet with herobliged to go home and stay the whole day on Sundays-found she was acquainted with another young man-at length heard she was married;~lost my sweetheart and also my temper. Went to Vauxhall with a friendmissed him in the crowd-two young ladies vastly polite-asked how I liked the dancing and singing-thought them very nice girls-offered my arm ;-lost my watch, and all the money I had in my pocket--found I was done-went back in high dudgeon; did'nt like Vauxhall at all!-obliged to buy a new watch, which quite emptied my pocket; wanting at the same time gloves, cravats, and other trifling but necessary ar ticles. 7th year-Begin to think I know what I am about-Mr. B. happens to think otherwise very cross indeed;-kept closer than ever-every body asking if I am out of my time. No, Mr. Editor, I am not out of it yet, though in a fair way for it; I have no peace for the very expectation of the 1st of September, when I mean to rise as early as any cockney-sportsman. I have here described a few only of the 'regular' mi›eries I have met with ; should I at any future time note down my miseries miscellaneous,' I will forward them for the amusement of your readers. R. J. 6 Varieties. STORY OF A GHOST. Mr. S. Fisher, the inventor of the Golden Snuff, was acquainted with a widow lady of excellent character, who resided at Cork. This lady was inconsolable for the death of her husband; the day was spent by her in sighs and incessant lamentations, and her pillow at night was moistened with the tears of her sorrow. Her husband-her dear husband-was the continual theme of her discourse, and she seemed to live for no other object but to recite his praises and deplore his loss. One morning her friend Fisher found her in a state of mental distraction. Her departed love, she said, had appeared to her in the night, and most peremptorily ordered her to enter the vault where his remains were deposited, and have the coffin opened. Mr. Fisher remonstrated with her on the absurdity of the idea; he said, that the intensity of her sorrow had impaired her intellect; that the phantom was the mere creature of her imagination, and begged of her at least to postpone to some future period her intended visit to the corpse of her husband. The lady acquiesced for that time in his request; but the two succeeding mornings the angry spirit of her spouse stood at her bed-side, and, with loud menaces, repeated his command. Mr. Fisher, therefore, sent to the sexton, and, matters being arranged, the weeping widow and her friend, at ended in the dismal vault: the coffin being opened with much solemnity, the faithful matron then stooped down and kissed the clay-cold lips of her husband. Having reluctantly parted from the beloved corpse, she spent the remainder of the day in silent anguish. On the succeeding morning, Fisher (who intended to sail for England on that day), called to bid his afflicted friend adieu. The maid servant told him that the lady had not risen. Tell her to get up,' said Fisher, I wish to give her a few words of consolation and advice before my departure.' Ah! sir, said the smiling girl, it would be a pity to disturb the new-married couple so early in the morning!' What new-married couple?' My mistress, sir, was married last night Married! Impossible! What, the lady who so adored her deceased husband-who was visited nightly by his ghost-and who yesterday so fervently kissed his corpse ! Surely you jest!" "Oh, sir,' said the girl,' my late master, poor man! on his deathbed, made my mistress promise, that she would never marry any man after his decease, till he and she should meet again (which the good man no doubt thought would not have happened till they met in heaven) and you know my dear Sir, you kindly introduced them to each other, face to face yesterday. My mistress, sir, sends you her compliments and thanks, together with this bride cake, to distribute among your young. friends.' THE LONG HEADED LAWYER. A student of the Middle Temple being just called to the bar, sent for a peruke-maker to measure him for a new tye-wig. The peruquier, on applying his apparatus in one direction, was observed to smile; on which, the young barrister desired to know what ludicrous circumstance gave rise to his mirth: the barber replied, that he could not but remark the extreme length of his honour's head.' 'That's well, said the student: we lawyers have occasion for long heads.' The barber, who had by this time completed the dimensions, now burst out in a fit of laughter; and 'an explanation being insisted on, at last declared, that he could not possibly contain himself, when he discovered that his honour's head was just as thick as it si long.' Original Poetry. INCONSTANCY DENIED. Can time forget the coming year? The sun his hour? or can I e'er No, tho' my days were spent in pain, Should every thought my bosom fly, Chill'd by lost memory's snow; Each straggler as he left, would cry Forget thee!-dearest, No. Tho' age should all my joys reject, And grief on sorrow grow; Could I my dearest bliss neglectForget thee!-dearest, No. Or shouldst e'en thou my love oppose, And cold neglect bestow; Yet could I, while my life-blood flows, No, once to love thee is to take Without thee now my heart would break : Forget thee?-dearest, No. But while gay joy flits in my eyes, My bark shall float before thy breath, Forget thee?-dearest, No. No, in the day of endless span R. J. This front view, altered from Mr. Jeffrey's plan, represents a continuation from the new bridge (see ground plan a) crossing Upper Thames Street b by an archway 18 feet high. At c is a terrace, and view of the Momnment : at d St. Michael's Church; whence to Gracechurch Street e forms, what shall be called for distinction's sake, the first proposed level street. It may be observed that the declivity of Fish Street Hill f, to Lower Thames Street g, is not more than the acclivity to the top of the land-arch of the new bridge; wherefore, heavily laden waggons descending Fish Street Hill, and ascending the new bridge, whose particular road has only two feet rise, would, according to this old fashioned scheme of ups and downs, be subjected to unnecessary labour and risk of accidents. Moreover, carriages mounting Fish Street Hill, although they would lose in distance when made to approach the new bridge in that circuitous manner, would have a less steep assent to climb in other words, from the bottom of Thames Street to the top of the above hill the ascent will be easier, because the distance is longer than from the bottom of Thames Street to the top of the land-arch of the new bridge; besides, no other line can be produced which shall afford a corresponding number of requisites. The buildings gained from two additional frontages of very considerable extent, (see elevation A B C) should repay this alteration, which becomes facilitated owing to the removal of the waterworks from old Londonbridge. D is a boat-stairs, and at E a wharf with cellars vaulted from the river side to Upper Thames Street. Fishmongers-hall F will be rebuilt. Descending from the new bridge to St. Magnus church, at the corner of Lower Thames Street, Mr. Jeffrey has adopted the line of the river in preference to one towards that church by Upper Thames Street; yet whilst he seems correct in relation to the latter route being shorter and more difficult of access than the former, he appears to mistake in descending from the new bridge abruptly or at right angles, instead of coming down diagonally, that is, by an easy slope of 10 feet to the Monument, when compared with a fall of 20 feet to St. Magnus church. For the sake of putting this case, a level street to Gracechurch street has been supposed exclusive of the present question. The second proposed level street, which is that of Mr. Jeffrey, is generally reckoned a good plan, notwithstanding the communication of such street with the New Post-office shall hardly be so convenient as a direct road to it from Blackfriars Bridge, or Southwark Bridge. Nevertheless, to explain his selected line, Mr. Jeffery widens Princes Street h, cuts about four houses from Cornhill i, passes Lombard-street k, Cannon-street, and after enlarging Miles-iane, reaches the archway and new bridge. The old Post-office m, will not be wanted much longer; consequently, its site may be procured with little or no sacrifice; other places specified herein are the Mansion-house n, Royal Exchange o, and Bank of England p. Let it be remarked, that Mr. Jeffrey's street can ultimately join another new street, designed hy Mr. Brown to run parallel with Coleman street, and extend from Prince's-street, Lothbury, to Finsbury-pavement, London-wall: by this method, shall two great north roads become accessible, since another main outlet from the city, being by Highgate and Barnet, will be added to the one leading through Bishopsgatestreet, to Edmonton and Waltham Cross. The business of the Post-office, however, when removed from Lombardstreet to St. Martin's-le-grand, can render Mr. Brown's street of utility to town rather than country. Having premised these few explanations, there rests to subjoin a quotation from Mr. Jeffrey's own account of his laudable plan. In the act of Parliament for building the new bridge a power is given to purchase the following houses, viz.,, Nos. 121 to 128 in Upper Thamesstreet, Nos. 1 and 2 on the south side of Lower Thames-street, also Freshwharf Nos. 119 to 127 on the north side of Lower Thames-street, Nos. 23 to 28 on the west side, and Nos. 30 to 33 on the east side of Fish-street-hill. 'Such are purchases which have been deemed necessary for raising the foot of Fish-street-hill four feet, that the ascent to the bridge may be rendered easier; yet it rests to be objected after all, that this ascent will be as much as twenty-one feet in a length of two hupdred and thirty; for the centre of the new bridge is about twenty-seven feet above the level of Thames-street, whilst the land-arch of that bridge is about twenty-five feet above such level; con |