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soon settled by Boatum's Attorney declaring that for his client he would swear anything. The Water bailiff's character was then read, taken out of the original record in the Latin, which set forth in their declaration that they were carried away either by the tide of flood or the tide of ebb. The Charter of the Water-bailiff was as follows: Aquæ bailiffi est magistratus in choisi, sapor omnibus fishibus qui habuerunt finnos et scalos, claws, shells, et talos, qui swimmare in freshibus, vel saltibus riveris lakos, pondis, canalibus et well boats, sive oysteri, prauni whiterii, shrimpi, turbutus, solus ;' that is, not turbots alone, but turbots and soles both together. But now comes the nicety of the Law, the Law is as nice as a new laid egg, and not to be understood by addle-headed people. Bullum and Boatum mentioned both ebb and flood to avoid quibbling, but it being proved that they were carried away neither by the tide of flood nor by the tide of ebb, but exactly upon the top of high water, they were nonsuited, but such was the lenity of the Court, upon their paying all costs, they were allowed to begin again de novo."

Burlesque is a branch of humorous composition in which we have had, and still have, many clever writers. Care must be taken not to confound together burlesque and travesty. The latter is a meaner species of composition, partaking more of the character of the parody, and possessing less of the ludicrous magnificence which characterizes the true burlesque.

The "Tom Thumb" of Fielding, as adapted by Kane O'Hara, and the "Bombastes Furioso" of Rhodes are good specimens of burlesque. The former is now rarely represented, the latter still frequently supplies amateur actors with a vehicle for the exhibition of their real or fancied powers, and occasionally delights the laughterloving audiences of the regular theatres. In design and execution there are marks of imitation of Tom Thumb, or perhaps it would be more correct to say, that Tom Thumb has supplied the idea and general plan of Bombastes, while unquestionably the humour of the latter is original, and entirely the author's own.

William Barnes Rhodes was born in the town of Leeds, on Christmas Day, 1772. At about the age of 27 he obtained a clerkship in the Bank of England, in which establishment his attention to business, and strict integrity, procured him eventually the honourable post of chief teller. He died in November, 1826, and the Bank marked their sense of his merit by the gift of an annuity to his widow. Mr. Rhodes combined with the closest attention to business a strong taste for the drama, and

for dramatic compositions, and contrived to snatch sufficient time from the limited period allowed him for recreation, for the production of Bombastes and other humorous and light pieces. His collection of dramatic works was one of the largest and most complete ever made, and its sale by auction occupied a period of ten days. It is unnecessary to give any outline of the plot or incidents of a piece so generally known as Bombastes. Fusbos is the minister of King Artaxomines, and is of course the personification of wisdom. His speeches are marked by a grave philosophical and reflective character, which leads him to indulge frequently in similes in the mock Virgilian style. Artaxomines too, when Fusbos, inclining on the one hand, partly through fear and partly through friendship, to Bombastes, and swayed on the other by his interest and duty to his king, protests his inability to advise the latter upon the momentous question of the rival attractions of Griskinissa and Distaffina, thus describes his minister's hesitating state.

"So when two feasts, whereat there's nought to pay,

Fall unpropitious on the self same day,

The anxious Cit each invitation views,

And ponders which to take, and which refuse;
From this or that to stay away is loth,

And sighs to think he cannot dine at both!"

To which, after the king's exit, Fusbos rejoins,

"So when some school-boy, on a rainy day
Finds all his playmates will no longer stay,
He takes the hint himself-and walks away."

Fusbos thus soliloquises, struck by the threatening aspect of the omens which have met him in the morning.

66

This day is big with fate; just as I set

My foot across the threshold, lo! I met

A man whose squint terrific struck my view!
Another came, and lo! he squinted too;
And ere I reached the corner of the street,
Some ten short paces, 'twas my lot to meet
A third who squinted more-a fourth, and he,
Squinted more vilely than the other three.
Such omens met the eye when Cæsar fell,
But cautioned him in vain; and who can tell
Whether these awful notices of fate

Are meant for kings or ministers of state."

Bombastes, convinced of the faithlessness of Distaffina, appears with woe-begone face and dishevelled hair, preceded by a fifer, playing the elegant air of Michael Wiggins,' as a soothing balm to the General's 'hurt mind,' and thus the General loquitur:,

"Gentle musician, let thy dulcet strain
Proceed-play Michael Wiggins once again,-
Music's the food of love; begone, give o'er,
For I must batten on that food no more,
My happiness is changed to doleful dumps,
Whilst, Merry Michael, all thy cards were trumps.
So, should some youth by fortune's blest decrees,
Possess at least a pound of Cheshire cheese,
And bent some favoured party to regale,
Lay in a kilderkin, or so, of ale,

Lo! angry fate, in one unlucky hour
Some hungry rats may all the cheese devour,
And the loud thunder turn the liquor sour."

The piece concludes with the orthodox number of deaths, varied however from the usual tragic character by each of the deceased personages coming suddenly to life, and joining in a merry dance, upon which the curtain falls.

Dr. John Wolcot, better known as Peter Pindar, was the author of many very humorous pieces, most of which are unfortunately disfigured by coarseness. His story of the country bumpkin who purchases from a pedlar a quantity of worthless razors, which the latter subsequently admits, with much coolness, were made, not to shave, but to sell, is capitally told; but we agree with the late Leigh Hunt in thinking that his versification of passages in Boswell's Johnson is his best effort. We can only find room for a short extract.

66 MADAME PIOZZI.

"Dear Doctor Johnson was in size an ox,
And from his uncle Andrew learnt to box,
A man to wrestlers and to bruisers dear,

Who kept the ring in Smithfield a whole year.
The Doctor had an uncle, too, adored

By jumping gentry, called Cornelius Ford;
Who jumped in boots, which jumpers never choose,
Far as a famous jumper jump'd in shoes.

"In grave procession to St. Leonard's college
Well stuff'd with every sort of useful knowledge,
We stately walked as soon as supper ended;
The landlord and the waiter both attended;
The landlord, skilled a piece of grease to handle,
Before us marched and held a tallow candle;
A lantern (some famed Scotchman its creator)
With equal grace was carried by the waiter.
Next morning from our beds we took a leap,
And found ourselves much better for our sleep.

MADAME PIOZZI.

"Did any one that he was happy cry-
Johnson would tell him plumply, 'twas a lie.
A lady told him she was really so,

On which he sternly answered, 'Madame, no!
Sickly you are, and ugly-foolish poor,
And therefore can't be happy, I am sure,
'Twould make a fellow hang himself, whose ear
Were from such creatures forc'd such stuff to hear.'

"Once at our house amidst our Attic feasts,

We likened our acquaintances to beasts;

As, for example, some to calves and hogs,

And some to bears and monkeys, cats and dogs;
We said (which charmed the doctor much no doubt),
His mind was like of elephants the snout,
That could pick pins up, yet possessed the vigour
For trimming well the jacket of a tiger.

MADAME PIOZZI.

"Dear Doctor Johnson left off drinks fermented,
With quarts of chocolate and cream contented;
Yet often down his throat's enormous gutter,
Poor man, he pour'd a flood of melted butter.

66 BOZZY.

"When young, ('twas rather silly I allow,)
Much was I pleased to imitate a cow,
One time at Drury Lane with Doctor Blair
My imitations made the playhouse stare!
So very charming was I in my roar,

That both the galleries clapped, and cried 'encore.'

Blest by the general plaudit and the laugh,
I tried to be a jackass and a calf;

But who, alas! in all things can be great?
In short, I met a terrible defeat,

So vile I brayed, and bellowed, I was hissed;
Yet all who knew me wonder'd that I miss'd.
Blair whisper'd me, 'You've lost your credit now;
Stick, Boswell, for the future, to the cow.'"

No man with the slightest appreciation of humour can fail to laugh heartily at this almost cruelly ludicrous burlesque of Boswell's self-important, and sometimes trivially minute, style. These verses are the very perfection of easy rhyme. Each line is complete, and would be spoiled by the addition or subtraction of a syllable.

Colman's "Toby Tosspot," "Lodgings to Let," and "Newcastle Apothecary," are familiar to every schoolboy, and we shall do no more than mention them.

Coming somewhat nearer to our own times, we meet with the names for ever honourable in humorous literature, of James and Horace Smith.

The dry technicalities of the law could not repress in James-any more than the tactics of the Stock Exchange could in Horace-the spirit of genuine humour and the mens poetica.' Their extensive good sayings in prose and verse would alone fill a goodly volume; but the best known, and the best of their productions, is the "Rejected Addresses." The preface to the 18th edition of this work, written by Horace Smith, give us the history of its origin and adventures, and will afford, as it was intended to do, hope to many a literary aspirant, repelled at first by the frown of the publisher. The "Rejected Addresses," at least the majority of them, are more than mere parodies, they are exquisitely humorous imitations. "The Theatre" is a perfect imitation of the style of Crabbe, who sacrificed a great deal of true poetic fancy to mean and common-place description and small antithesis. The prose preface of apology" to "The Theatre" also in Crabbe's style, is equal to the imitation in verse, and called for a remonstrance from Crabbe, who frankly acknowledged the ability and humour of the poetical imitation, but took exception to what he considered undeserved ill-nature in the prefatory address. Extract from the "Rejected Addresses" is almost a work of supererogation, but we cannot forbear from indulging ourselves a