And maister Timothie the woolen draper;
And maister Salamon the leather scraper;
And maister Franke, the goldsmith at the Rose;
And maister Phillip with the fiery nose.

And maister Miles the mercer at the Harrow;
And maister Giles the salter at the Sparrow;
And maister Nicke the silke man at the plow;
And maister Dicke, the vintner at the Cow;

And Harry haberdasher at the Horne ;
And Oliver the dyer at the Thorne ;
And Bernard barber-surgeon at the Fiddle
And Moses merchant tailor at the Needle !",

The following fine moral stanzas, were originally intended for a solemn funeral song in a play, "The Contention of Ajax and Ulyses," by James Shirley; he flourished as a dramatic writer, in the reign of Charles I.; he outlived the restoration, and died 1666.

DEATH'S FINAL CONQUEST.

"The glories of our birth and state,
Are shadows, not substantial things;

There is no armour against fate:
Death lays his icy hands on kings:
Sceptre and crown

Must tumble down,

And in the dust be equal made

With the poor crooked scythe and spade.

Some men with swords may reap the field,
And plant the laurels where they kill;
But their strong nerves at last must yield;
They turne but one another still.
Early or late

They stoop to fate,

And must give up their murmuring breath,
When they, pale captives creep to death.

The garlands wither on your brow,

Then boast no more your mighty deeds;

Upon death's purple altar now,

See where the victor victim bleeds:
All heads must come

To the cold tomb,

Only the actions of the just

Smell sweet and blossom in the dust."

It is said to have been a favourite song with that profligate man, King Charles II.; it is to be regretted, it had no moral effect upon his conduct, his whole life was a senseless round of folly, and dissipation, which the huge calibre of his besotted mind seemed to be continually charged with, and which he

discharged again with dismal effects over all that came within

its range.

He ought to have had those pathetic lines, in gilt letters, placed under the picture of his unfortunate father, as a continual memento mori; but it may be doubted whether they would have made any impression on his inveterate habits. Such a one as him, might have furnished the following thoughts to one of the most amiable of the English poets :

"From stucco'd walls smart arguments abound,

And beaux adept in everything profound,

Die of disdain and whistle off the sound." CowPER.

The following little moral poem was written by Sir Henry Wotton, who died (provost of Eaton,) 1639.

THE CHARACTER OF A HAPPY LIFE.

"How happy is he born or taught,

That serveth not another's will;
Whose armour is his honest thought,
And simple truth his highest skill.
Whose passions not his master are;
Whose soul is still prepared for death;
Not ty'd unto the world with care
Of princes ear, or vulgar breath:

Who hath his life from rumours freed;
Whose conscience is his strong retreat:
Whose state can neither flatterers feed,
Nor ruine make oppressors great:

Who envies none whom chance doth raise,
Or vice who never understood
How deepest wounds are given with praise;
Nor rules of state, but rules of good;

Whom God doth late and early pray
More of his grace than gifts to lend
And entertaines the harmless day

With a well-chosen book or friend.

This man is freed from servile bands
Of hope to rise, or fear to fall;
Lord of himselfe, though not of lands;
And having nothing, yet hath all.

"When VIRTUE her example drew in heaven
Seven steps to reach them were to mortals given:
HOPE, so desirous to be first, attains

Four of the seven: but FAITH five precepts gains:
LOVE is the chief, for Love the two excels,

And in the virtue of PERFECTION dwells."

The Unjust Steward, by Charles, Duke of Richmond, 1667.

"In a White hall there once were stewards three

Head-steward, house-steward, and faire steward, ye there might see,
House-steward, and faire-steward partners fayne would be:
But the head-steward thereto would not agree,
As passing well faire-steward esteemed he;
So from White Hall the second he made to flee
Oh! unjust steward, many would feel full glee
If thou shouldest lose thy place and every fee:
Thy father's head-long course was shorten'd legalie
Head-steward beware! that name ill omen's thee."

This lampoon is highly characteristic of the times, and the manners; the house-steward, means himself; at the palace of Whitehall, the head-steward, King Charles II., and the fairesteward, the beauteous grand-daughter of Walter Steward, Lord Blantyre; the three were related. The duke was first struck with Miss Stuarts charms, at one of Queen Catharine's masquerades, in 1664. When the queen was at one time given over by her physicians, it is said she named this young lady to Charles as her successor, she wished to adorn the throne. Catharine's recovery, Lord Clarendon took a fancy that his royal master might seek a divorce, in order to offer his hand to this maid of honour: he, therefore, promoted her marriage with the Duke of Richmond.

On

When this was suspected, the duke was banished from court. Miss Stuart, like a true hearted lover, eloped with him, and was married, 1667. The circumstances were soon forgiven, and the young Duchess was appointed lady of the bedchamber, by her kind mistress; and she also became immortalized, by having her figure, as being so beautiful, put upon the coins.

EPIGRAMS.

"A college of witte crackers cannot flout mee

Out of my humour-dost thou think I care for a
Satyre or an epigram." SHAKSPEARE.

The following one is by some learned gallant of the law, on the fair sex:

A DECLARATION IN LAW.

"Fee simple, and a simple fee,
And all the fees intail,

Are nothing, when compared to thee,
Thou best of fees-Female."

From Sir John Harrington to his wife, for striking her dog from his
Book of Epigrams.

"Your little dog that bark'd as I came by,
I strake by hap so hard I made him cry;
And straight you put your finger in your eye,
And lowering sate-and ask'd the reason why?
Love me and love my dog, thou didst reply!
Love as both should be lov'd-I will, said I,
And seal'd it with a kiss; then, by and by,
Clear were the clouds of thy fair frowning skie;
Thus small events great masteries may trye,
For I do this, at their meaning guesse,
That beat a whelp afore a lyonnese !

Sir John's notion of the marriage state, seems to agree with that of Bishop Taylor, who says: “ A husband's power over his wife is paternal and friendly, not magisterial and despotic."

HAYDEN'S EPIGRAM ON THE LETTER H, 1566.

"H is the worst letter in the crisse crosse row,

For if thou find him either in thine elbowe,

In thine arm, or leg, in any degree,

In thine head, or toe, or teeth, or knee,

Into whatever place H may pike him,

Where'er thou find ache, thou shalt not like him.”

This epigram shows that the word we now pronounce ake, was pronounced formerly ache.

During the time when Cromwell lay with his army at Perth, in Scotland, a rich old miser in that town-named Mundayhanged himself on account of the fall of grain. Oliver, who was by no means a greedy man, offered a premium for the best epigram on old hunks; several were sent to the protector on the occasion, but he was only pleased with the following, from an old Cobbler, who received the premium :

EPIGRAM.

Blessed be the Sabbath dey,
And curs'd be warldly pelf,
Tuesday must begin the week,

For Monday's hang'd his self!

A person of Oliver's staff, upon reading these lines, perceived

the cobbler supposed that Monday was the first day, wrote the following lines:

What country came the cobbler frae,

That Monday 'gan the week wha' wot;
No Jew nor Christian can he be,

Forsooth he is a Hottentot.

The following four lines, from a collection of "Rump songs, by the most eminent wits from 1639 to 1661," if not very sparkling, give a "short and sweet" view of their sentiments.

"Wise men suffer, good men grieve,
Knaves devise, and fools deceive;

Help, oh Lord! send ayd unto us,

Else knaves and fools will quite undo us."

ANAGRAMS.

"Thy genius calls thee not to purchas fame,

In keen Iambic, but mild anagram." DRYDEN.

THIS ingenious way of transposing a name, occupied much of the attention both of the witty and the wise; many cynical people censure these things, certainly the great part of them are trifles, but many of our present sedentary amusements are trifling. The writer does not wish to set himself up as an arbiter of taste, but perhaps may be permitted to ask, whether transposing the letters of a name, or writing an acrostic, is not quite as well as shuffling about fifty two pieces of stiff paper, or moving some round pieces of wood, on a chequered board! "To the pure, all things are pure." However, some of my readers may expect a few.

I give two about the unfortunate Mary, Queen of Scots, which contain much historic truth, point, and brevity; and contain severe reflections on her enemies :

Maria Stevarta,

Veritas Armata.

Truth in arms!

Maria Stewarda, Scotorum Regina,
Trusa vi regnis, morta amara cado.

Trusting in the hospitality of the kingdom, I fall by a bitter death.

The last, on the unfortunate Mary, is so good and so true, that it will serve to contrast with the following, on Queen Elizabeth: