among the wool in the working chamber, and at night, when all the family were asleep, stole down stairs for milk and other necessaries. It is very remarkable, that she looked more healthful when found, than she did when first missed.

Extract of a letter from Jamaica." I cannot help relating to you, on account of its singularity, a circumstance which happened to me not long ago, in the midst of my distresses, which affected me greatly at the time, nor do I think I shall soon forget it.

"One morning taking an airing along the piazza, leading from Kingston to the fields, an old Negro, who was sitting there dressing his sores, begged alms of me. I passed by him, without taking any notice of him; but immediately reflecting upon the poor fellow's situation, I turned back and gave him a bit; telling him at the same. time, that I had got but a few more remaining to myself. The fellow expressed his gratitude in thanks, and good wishes for me, and I passed

on.

"Some days afterwards, having occasion to pass the same way, I again met the same Negro. On my nearer approach, he attempted to come towards me, but his sores disabled him from getting further than a few paces, by which means I had an opportunity of passing him. Upon this he called after me ;-I still walked on, however, without regarding him. But as I continued to go

further from him, he raised his voice higher, begging to speak with me. with me. Curious to hear what the man had to say, I turned back, when he delivered himself to the following effect:-That as soon as I left him the other day, he concluded from what I had said, when I relieved him, that I was myself in distress; that it grieved him much to see a lady in want, nor could he be happy till he saw me again. He then pulled out a purse, containing, as he said, twenty-eight doubloons, and begged me to take it, telling me, that he had collected this by begging, and that he could beg more to make him live; but that a lady could not beg, but must die for want of yam yam, if she had no money. I thanked the poor fellow for his generosity, and that I had got more money since I saw him, and that I did not want it. I then asked him how his master suffered him to beg, seeing he was so old. He told me, that now he could work no more, and that his master had turned him off.”

Verses spoken extempore by Mr. Kt, Or g-n-st, of the Cathedral and College Cs, of W—r, on reading an account of the death of the Rev. Mr. W-r, of Cambridge.

And is he gone-is honest Walker dead!

Mourn Cambridge, mourn, for jollity is fled.
The poor, the rich, the jovial, and the sober,
Will miss his generous bowl, and mild October.
Join me, oh Allen, join me, Foppy Lunn.

To sing a solemn dirge, o'er humour, wit, and pun,

With him they are gone; oh cruel, cruel death!
To walk poor Walker thus: so out of breath,
Thy venom tyrant, is far beyond a viper's

That I can cure with oil sweet, thou worst of biters!
But soft, my sun is setting too, my organs fail,
My bellows wheezes, and my stops turn tail,
Then lay, oh lay me by that bonny talker,
Let Kent lie cheek by jowl with Froggy Walker,

Edinburgh. A tradesman of this city, who had ordered his grave-clothes and coffin to be got ready, died yesterday of an asthmatic fit. Some days before his death he tried on his death-clothes, which were made of linen, but imagining them too cold, returned them back, in order to be lined with flannel!—He paid for them himself, and drank a parting glass with his acquaintances.

S

London, February 12.-On Friday last the complaint of Mrs. S― was opened against her husband in a great ecclesiastical court. The principal charge against him was, that he was incapable of performing matrimonial rites, according to the law of nature. The depositions furnished great entertainment to the Gentlemen of the Long Robe.

It seems the lady was a widow, with a jointure of nine hundred pounds per annum, was in possession of a town and country-house, elegantly furnished, with an equipage, &c. Mr. S

was a young man of small fortune, and plied the

widow so closely, that she soon consented to give her hand in marriage. On the wedding-day they went with a number of friends to Salt Hill, in order to celebrate their nuptials: and on the lady retiring after supper, the bridegroom followed her, and, after great uneasiness, explained the coldness of his disposition; on which the lady declared, that as long as he behaved with politeness and good humour to her, she would never publish the secret he had trusted her with. About two years elapsed, during which time they to all appearance lived very happily, when Mr. S

as it is said, began to use his wife with great neglect, and sometimes beat her; on which she discovered her situation to a relation, who advised her to apply for a divorce. Mr. S denies her charge, and will submit to a scrutiny of the faculty.

Epistle from Lady Bridget L-
Butterfly, at York.

to Lady Bab

You cannot imagine, my dear Lady Bab,
How anxious I am all my budget to blab;
But, lord, I could tell you a thousand times better,
Than scribbling my thoughts, like a clerk in a letter:
But when we're apart, there is no other means
Of describing the vulgar, and St. James's scenes.
Well then, to begin, my dear Bab, and be short;

In the presence I was, when the m-y-r came to court ;
Ye gods! what a shame, that the scum of the earth
Should dare to petition as people of birth!

Such a sight, my dear Bab, with their gowns and broad

faces,

With their vile vulgar gaits, and their staves and their

maces:

But, like owls in the sun, how our K made them

blink!

And then, my dear soul, how these creatures did stink!
I declare, eau-de-luce hardly kept me from fainting;
A plague, e'en in Turkey, was not half so tainting;
But the K, my dear child, who is always so clear,
Sent the wretches away with a flea in their ear.
You know how I sigh'd for a prize in the lottery;
But now all my sighs are turn'd round on the coterie:
Between you and me, I'd lay twenty to seven,
That many had rather go there than to heaven ;

It's the snuggest affair, and the pleasantest plan,

For although with your husband-you may have a man; Do you know, though they've black-ball'd George S- -n, and Mb,

(That sweet Macaroni, so stiff and so starch)

Their reasons I know not, but sure it is cruel;

For of all our gay Lords, sure my Lord is the jewel.

As for Sn, the creature has wit and good sense,
Which to me, Lady Bab, is a horrid offence.

What you lose, my dear creature, by not being in town! -
Foote's open and Reynolds's paintings are shewn.
Enchanting Vauxhall, where the dark walks, so snug,
Afford me, at times, a dear kiss and a hug.

Well, adieu, Lady Bab, for engagements are pressing;
I dine at Almack's-and have not begun dressing;
To reach the dear spot, I am all in a fidget,
And beg to remain, Bab-your dear little

BRIDGET.