A MAN in many a country town we know,
Professes openly with death to wrestle;
Entering the field against the grimly foe,
Armed with a mortar and a pestle.

Yet some affirm, no enemies they are;
But meet just like prize-fighters in a fair,
Who first shake hands before they box,
Then give each other plaguy knocks,
With all the love and kindness of a brother:
So-many a suffering patient saith-
Though the apothecary fights with Death,
Still they're sworn friends to one another.

A member of this Esculapian line
Lived at Newcastle-upon-Tyne:
No man could better gild a pill,
Or make a bill;

Or draw a tooth out of your head;
Or chatter scandal by your bed.

Of occupations these were quantum suff.:
Yet still he thought the list not long enough;
And therefore midwifery he chose to pin to't.
This balanced things; for if he hurled
A few score mortals from the world,

He made amends by bringing others into't.

His fame full six miles round the country ran; In short, in reputation he was solus:

23-VOL. I.

Of writing the directions on his labels
In dapper couplets, like Gay's Fables,
Or rather like the lines in Hudibras.

Apothecary's verse! and where's the treason?
"Tis simply honest dealing; not a crime;
When patients swallow physic without reason,
It is but fair to give a little rhyme.

He had a patient lying at death's door,

Some three miles from the town, it might be four,
To whom, one evening, Bolus sent an article
In pharmacy that's called cathartical.

And on the label of the stuff

He wrote this verse,

The servant lets him in with dismal face,
Long as a courtier's out of place—

Portending some disaster;

John's countenance as rueful looked and grim,
As if the apothecary had physicked him,
And not his master.

"Well, how's the patient ?" Bolus said;
John shook his head.

"Indeed!-hum!-ha!-that's very odd! He took the draught ?" John gave a nod. "Well, how? what then? speak out, you dunce!" "Why, then," says John, we shook him once." "Shook him!-how?" Bolus stammered out.

We jolted him about."

"Zounds! shake a patient, man!-a shake won't do." "No, sir, and so we gave him two."

"Two shakes! od's curse!

"Twould make the patient worse." "It did so, sir, and so a third we tried.”

"Well, and what then?" "Then, sir, my master died."

SCENE-The Market-place.

Drum beats the Grenadier's March. Enter SERGEANT KITE, followed by THOMAS APPLETREE, COSTAR PEARMAIN, and the Mob.

66

Kite. [Making a speech.] If any gentlemen, soldiers, or others, have a mind to serve His Majesty and pull down the French king; if any 'prentices have severe masters, any children have undutiful parents; if any servants have too little wages, or any husband a bad wife, let them repair to the noble Sergeant Kite, at the sign of the Raven," in this good town of Shrewsbury, and they shall receive present relief and entertainment. [Drum.] Gentlemen, I don't beat my drums here to ensnare or inveigle any man; for you must know, gentlemen, that I am a man of honour: besides, I don't beat up for common soldiers; no, I'list only grenadiers-grenadiers, gentlemen. Pray, gentlemen, observe this cap-this is the cap of honour: it dubs a man a gentleman in the drawing of a trigger; and he that has the good fortune to be born six foot high was born to be a great man. Sir, will you give me leave to try this cap upon your head?

Costar. Is there no harm in't? Won't the cap 'list me?

Cost. My mind misgives me plaguily. No coaxing, no bothering me, faith!

Kite. I coax! I wheedle! I'm above it, sir; I have served twenty campaigus; but, sir, you talk well, and I must own you are a man, every inch of you: a pretty, young, sprightly fellow!-but I scorn to wheedle any man! Come, honest lad, will you take share of a pot?

Cost. Nay, for that matter, I'll spend my penny with the best he that wears a head; that is, begging your pardon, sir, and in a fair way.

Kite. Give me your hand, then; and now, gentlemen, I have no more to say but this-here's a purse of gold, and there is a tub of humming ale at my quarters. "Tis the king's money and the king's drink; he's a generous king, and loves his subjects. 1 hope, gentlemen, you won't refuse the king's health? Hey, boys! thus we soldiers live, drink, sing, dance, play; we live, as one should say we live-'tis impossible to tell how we live -we are all princes; why, why you are a king, you are an emperor, and I'm a prince; now, an't we? Tho. No, sergeant; I'll be no emperor. Kite. No!

Tho. I'll be a justice of peace.

Kite. A justice of peace, man!

Tho. Ay, wauns will I; for since this pressing

Cost. Are you sure there is no conjuration in it?

-no gunpowder-plot upon me?

Kite. No, no, friend; don't fear, man,

sun.

Kite. Done; you are a justice of peace, and you are a king, and I'm a duke, and a rum duke, !an't I?

Plume. How? by way of a present? the rascal! I'll teach him to abuse honest fellows like you. Scoundrel, rogue, villain!

[Beats off the Sergeant, and follows. Both. Oh, brave noble captain! huzza! A brave captain, faith!

Cost. Now, Tummas, Carolus is Latin for a beating. This is the bravest captain I ever saw. Waunds! I've a month's mind to go with him.

Enter PLUME.

Plume. A dog, to abuse two such honest fellows as you. Look ye, gentlemen, I love a pretty fellow; I come among you as an officer to 'list soldiers, not as a kidnapper, to steal slaves.

Cost. Mind that, Tummas.

Plume. I desire no man to go with me, but as I went myself. I went a volunteer, as you or you may do now; for a little time carried a musket, and now I command a company.

Tho. Mind that, Costar. A sweet gentleman. Plume. "Tis true, gentlemen, I might take an advantage of you; the king's money was in your pockets-my sergeant was ready to take his oath you were listed; but I scorn to do a base thing; you are both of you at your liberty.

Cost. Thank you, noble captain. Ecod, I can't find in my heart to leave him, he talks so finey. Tho. Ay, Costar, would he always hold in this mind.

Plume. Come, my lads, one thing more I'll tell you: you're both young tight fellows, and the army is the place to make you men for ever: every man has his lot, and have you What think yours. you of a purse of French gold out of a monsieur's pocket, after you have dashed out his brains with the butt-end of your firelock, eh? Cost. Waunds! I'll have it.

me a shilling; I'll follow you to the end of the world.

Tho. Nay, dear Costar! do'na; be advised. Plume. Here, my hero; here are two guineas for thee, as earnest of what I'll do further for thee.

Tho. Do'na take it; do'na, dear Costar. [Cries, and pulls back his arm. Cost. I wull, I wull. Waunds! my mind gives me that I shall be a captain myself: I take your money, sir, and now I am a gentleman.

Plume. Give me thy hand; and now you and I will travel the world o'er, and command it whereever we tread. Bring your friend with you, if [Aside.

you can.

March, you scoundrels!

THE Duke of Richmond had given notice of an address to the throne, against the further prosecution of hostilities with America. Chatham had, during some time, absented himself from Parliament, in consequence of his growing infirmities. He determined to appear in his place on this occasion, and to declare that his opinions were decidedly at variance with those of the Rocking. ham party. He was in a state of great excitement. His medical attendants were uneasy, and strongly advised him to calm himself, and to remain at home. But he was not to be controlled. William, and his son-in-law, Lord Mahon, accompanied him to Westminster. He rested himself

His son

in the Chancellor's room till the debate commenced, and then, leaning on his two young relations. limped to his seat. The slightest particulars of that day were remembered, and have been carefully recorded. He bowed, it was remarked, with great courtliness to those peers who rose to make way for him and his supporters. His crutch was in his hand. He wore, as was his fashion, a rich velvet coat. His legs were swathed in flannel His wig was so large and his face so emaciated, that none of his features could be discerned, except the high curve of his nose, and his eyes, which still retained a gleam of the old fire.

When the Duke of Eichmond had spoken,

Chatham rose. For some time his voice was inaudible. At length his tones became distinct and his action animated. Here and there his hearers caught a thought or an expression which reminded them of William Pitt. But it was clear that he was not himself. He lost the thread of his discourse, hesitated, repeated the same words several times, and was so confused that, in speaking of the Act of Settlement, he could not recall the name of the Electress Sophia. The House listened in solemn silence, and with the aspect of profound respect and compassion. The stillness was so deep that the dropping of a handkerchief would have been heard. The Duke of Richmond replied with great tenderness and courtesy; but while he spoke, the old man was observed to be restless and irritable. The duke sat down. Chatham stood up again, pressed his hand on his breast, and sank down in an apoplectic fit. Three or four lords who sat near him caught him in his fall. The House broke up in confusion.. The

dying man was carried to the residence of one of the officers of Parliament, and was so far restored as to be able to bear a journey to Hayes. At Hayes, after lingering a few weeks, he expired in his seventieth year. His bed was watched to the last with anxious tenderness by his wife and children; and he well deserved their care. Too often haughty and wayward to others, to them he had been almost effeminately kind. life been dreaded by his political opponents, and regarded with more awe than love even by his political associates. But no fear seems to have mingled with the affection which his fondness, constantly overflowing in a thousand endearing forms, had inspired in the little circle at Hayes.

He had through

Chatham, at the time of his decease, had not, in both Houses of Parliament, ten personal adherents. Half the public men of the age had been estranged from him by his errors, and the other half by the exertions which he had made to repair his errors. His last speech had been an attack at once on the