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ap in a dungeon, I then looked through the twilight of his grated door to take his picture.


I beheld his body half wasted away with long expectation and confinement, and felt what kind of sickness of the heart it was which arises from hope deferred. Upon looking nearer, I saw him pale and feverish; in thirty years the western breeze had not once fanned his blood-he had seen no sun, no moon, in all that time-nor had the voice of friend or kinsman breathed through his lattice: his children—

-But here my heart began to bleed-and I was forced to go on with another part of the portrait.

He was sitting upon the ground, upon a little straw, in the farthest corner of his dungeon, which was alternately his chair and bed: a little calendar of small sticks were laid at the head, notched all over with the dismal days and nights he had passed there-he had one of those little sticks in his hand, and with a rusty nail he was etching another day of misery to add to the heap. As I darkened the little light he had, he lifted up a hopeless eye towards the door, then cast it down-shook his head, and went on with his work of affliction. I heard his chains upon his legs, as he turned his body to lay his little stick upon the bundle

-He gave a deep sigh-I saw the iron enter his soul -I burst into tears-I could not sustain the picture of confinement which my fancy had drawn.




WICE had the sun gone down on the earth, and all as yet was quiet at the sepulchre: death held his sceptre over the Son of God: still and silent the hours passed on: the guards stood by their post:

the rays of the midnight moon gleamed on their helmets and on their spears: the enemies of Christ exulted in their success; the hearts of his friends were sunk in despondency and in sorrow; the spirits of glory waited in anxious suspence to behold the event, and wondered at the depth of the ways of God! At length the morning star arising in the east, announced the approach of light; the third day began to dawn upon the world, when on a sudden the earth trembled to its centre, and the powers of heaven were shaken, an angel of God descended-the guards shrunk back from the terror of his presence, and fell prostrate on the ground; "his countenance was like lightning, and his raiment was white as snow;" he rolled away the stone from the door of the sepulchre, and sat upon it. But who is this that cometh from the tomb-with dyed garments from the bed of death? He that is glorious in his appearance, walking in the greatness of his strength. It is thy prince, O Zion! Christian it is your Lord! he hath trodden the wine-press alone, he hath stained his raiment with blood; but now, as the firstborn from the womb of nature, he meets the morn ing of his resurrection. He arises a conqueror from the grave-he returns with blessings from the world of spirits he brings salvation to the sons of men. Never did the returning sun usher in a day so glorious -it was the jubilee of the universe! The morning stars sung together, and all the sons of God shouted aloud for joy! The Father of mercies looked down from his throne in the heavens; with complacency he beheld his world restored; he saw his work that it was good. Then did the desert rejoice, the face of nature was gladdened before him, when the blessings of the Eternal descended as the dew of heaven for the refresh ing of the nations.




AM fond of amusement, in whatever company it is to be found; and wit, though dressed in rags, is ever pleasing to me. I went some days ago to take a walk in St. James's Park, about the hour in which company leave it to go to dinner. There were but few in the walks, and those who staid, seemed by their looks, rather more willing to forget that they had an appetite than gain one. I sat down on one of the benches at the other end of which was seated a man in very shabby clothes.

We continued to groan, to hem, and to cough, as usual upon such occasions; and, at last, ventured úpon conversation. "I beg pardon," Sir, cried I, "but I think I have seen you before; your face is familiar to me." "Yes, Sir," replied he, "I have a good familiar face, as my friends tell me. I am as well known in every town in England, as the dromedary, or live crocodile. You must understand, Sir, that I have been these sixteen years Merry Andrew to a puppet-show; last Bartholomew fair my master and I quarrelled, beat each other, and parted: he to sell his puppets to the pincushion-makers in Rosemary Lane, and I to starve in St. James's Park."


"I am sorry, Sir, that a person of your appearance should labour under any difficulties." 'O, Sir, returned he, 66 my appearance is very much at your service; but, though I cannot boast of eating much, yet there are few that are merrier: if I had twenty thousand a year, I should be very merry; and, thank the Fates, though not worth a groat, I am very merry still. If I have three-pence in my pocket, I never refuse to be my three-halfpence; and, if I have no money, I

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never scorn to be treated by any that are kind enough to pay my reckoning. What think you, Sir, of a steak and a tankard? You shall treat me now, and I will treat you again when I find you in the Park in love with eating, and without money to pay for a dinner."

As I never refuse a small expence for the sake of a merry companion, we instantly adjourned to a neighbouring alehouse; and, in a few moments, had a frothing tankard, and a smoaking steak, spread on the table before us. It is impossible to express how much the sight of such good cheer improved my companion's vivacity. "I like this dinner, Sir," says he, "for three reasons: first, because I am naturally fond of beef; secondly, because I am hungry; and thirdly and lastly, because I get it for nothing; no meat eats so sweet as that for which we do not pay."

He therefore now fell to, and his appetite seemed to correspond with his inclination. After dinner was over, he observed that the steak was tough; " and yet Sir," returns he, “bad as it was, it seemed a rump-steak to me. O the delights of poverty and a good appetite! We beggars are the very foundlings of Nature; the rich she treats like an errant step-mother; they are pleased with nothing: cut a steak from what part you will, and it is insupportably tough; dress it up with pickles-even pickles cannot procure them an appetite. But the whole creation is filled with good things for the beggar; Calvert's butt out-tastes champaigne, and Sedgeley's home-brewed excels tokay. Joy, joy, my blood! though our estates lie no where, we have fortunes wherever we go. If an innundation sweeps away half the grounds of Cornwall, I am content I have no lands there; if the stocks sink, that gives me no uneasiness; I am no Jew.".

The fellow's vivacity, joined to his poverty, I own, raised my curiosity to know something of his life and circumstances; and I intreated, that he would indulge

my desire." That I will, Sir," said he, " and wel come; only let us drink to prevent our sleeping; let us have another tankard while we are awake; let us have another tankard: for ah! how charming a tan. kard looks when full!


"You must know, then, that I am very well de scended my ancestors have made some noise in the world; for my mother cried oysters, and my father beat a drum: I am told we have even had some trumpeters in our family. Many a nobleman cannot shew so respectable a genealogy; but that is neither here nor there. As I was their only child, my father designed to breed me up to his own employment, which was that of drummer to a puppet-show. Thus the whole employment of my younger years was that of interpreter to Punch and King Solomon in all his glory. But, though my father was very fond of instructing me in beating all the marches and points of war, I made no very great progress, because I naturally had no ear for music; so, at the age of sixteen, I went and listed for a soldier. As I had ever hated beating a drum, so I soon found that I disliked carrying a musket also; neither the one trade nor the other were to my taste, for I was by nature fond of being a gentleman; besides, I was obliged to obey my captain; he has his will, I have mine, and you have yours: now I very reasonably concluded, that it was much more comfortable for a man to obey his own will than another's.

“The life of a soldier soon, therefore, gave me the spleen; I asked leave to quit the service; but, as I was tall and strong, my captain thanked me for my kind intention, and said, because he had a regard for me, we should not part. I wrote to my father a very dismal penitent letter, and desired that he would raise money to pay for my discharge; but the good man was as fond of drinking as I was (Sir, my service to you), and those who are fond of drinking never pay for other people's discharges: in short, he never answered my

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