that could have been given; and this she bestowed upon the beggar. A rheumatism, which helped to shorten her days, was probably the result of this action. Noble and true woman! Not unrewarded is your gentle and enduring spirit, though it wished for nothing which it would not have in common with all your fellow creatures! No; nor unrewarded is it, even as far as this earth is concerned, if it can look down, and sce, not only that your memory is beloved by those who are most dear to them, but that the secret delight, the small household glory, of being even your offspring, has been a sufficing consolation in the midst of disease, and imprisonment, and what we are loth to call, in your presence, any more than mistaken judgments.'

By woman the lessons of the moralist have been embellished and illustrated, and by woman the strength, the beauty, and the value of our tenderest emotions have been taught to the stoic and the philosopher. She is our first friend and our last; she prepares our cradle, and she attends upon and solaces our death-bed. She smoothens the pillow of our sickness, and is the promoter, enlivener, and sympathizing sharer in the pleasures of our health. She is your only confidant, and particularly if she loves you; for, in that case, she is doubly trust-worthy. A secret of importance consigned to the keeping of a genuine woman, is as safe as if locked only in your own breast. But I speak only of the real woman; there are, of course, exceptions; there is a bastard species, which is good for little or nothing; but the deformity of this portion only reflects, by contrast, the greater honour on the generality of the sex. Yet even in the least worthy of women, I am inclined to think that virtues may be found more deep, more gentle, and more enduring than in the same class of men. Being, however, obliged to acknowledge that women are not all alike, and that even the best are not entirely perfect, I will qualify the confession, by shewing, in the words of a spirited modern writer, how even the defects of women become profitable and gracious. Speaking of the age, the illtemper, the ugliness, the folly, and the pedantry of some females, he says: "At the same time we should be exceedingly chagrined if it were imagined that we

intended any studied insult to the very respectable classes of females we have just mentioned. We have felt an affectionate veneration for several old ladies; and many a pleasant hour have we spent in their company. Now as to cross women, it is a very well known fact that their affection is frequently stronger than that of good-humoured ones: and, besides, it should be recollected that they contribute very much to a man's happiness, by exercising the valuable qualities of forbearance and resignation. Want of beauty, as a quality, only relates to young women; for it does not matter whether an old one be ugly or not: but this circumstance, which is so often considered a misfortune, is very frequently a blessing, as those who have read Mr. William Paruell's Julietta and Miss Burney's Camilla, feel perfectly convinced. As for the foolish ladies, we can only say that we feel as much regard for them as we can, and have no possible intention of offending them. We would, however, venture to make one remark, that if they happen to be pretty, they may possibly achieve a conquest, if they will but hold their tongues; but many a strong impression has faded away at the utterance of a silly speech. Then as to the blue stocking, or true literary lady but, with respect to her, it is best to hold a discreet silence, lest, in the very next number of this magazine, we should find two or three pages filled with avenging remarks. J. W. DALBY.

THE LION TORMENTED WITH THE

TOOTH-ACHE.

A Tale, for the Benefit of Courtiers.

A LION, in gnawing the skull of a reviewer, had broken a tooth, the fangs of which remained in his gum, and caused him dreadful pain. He shook his mane, he lashed his loins with his tail, and roared till his cries of anguish were re-echoed from the hills. All, that could and durst fly, fled, but those who belonged to the court were obliged to assemble, and wait, in trembling suspense, to know whether his majesty would be pleased, in his gracious agony, to devour

any of his loving subjects. Fire darted from the lion's eyes—the royal foam flowed from his lips.

"There you all stand, you useless wretches," bellowed he, in a voice of thunder. "You know that you were only created on my account, yet none of you can render me any assistance. Where is my surgeon?"

Shuddering approached the fox, felt the patient's pulse, and declared that his majesty's pain was certainly caused by the durity of the reviewer's skull; but, he was sorry to add that a portion of the reviewer's venom had passed into his royal blood, which might be attended with very dangerous consequences. He therefore humbly advised that the fangs of the broken tooth be eradicated by his majesty's surgeon extraordinary.

Thus the fox extricated himself from the difficulty, and left the dangerous case to the care of the ape, who was his majesty's surgeon extraordinary. The ape approached in a tremor, and when the lion opened his mouth, that he might look into it, he started back in great terror." Will the fellow be quick," grumbled the patient, or shall I crush thee to a plaister, and lay it on my gum?"

The ape had no desire that matters should go so far. He collected all his resolution, thrust his hand into his majesty's mouth, examined the part affected, and pledged himself to perform the operation with skill and alertness.

"But, added he, "the gap which will be made in your majesty's mouth, by the extraction of the fang, will be very uncomfortable. I, therefore, by all means advise, that another tooth, drawn from some living animal on the spot, be substituted in the place of the one which is lost. I already read, in the eyes of all your majesty's courtiers, the glorious eagerness to sacrifice their teeth for the service of your majesty, and it will be difficult to decide so noble a contention."

It was, however, not so difficult as the ape imagined: for all the surrounding courtiers were mute, and crept behind each other. Only a good natured ass, (for there were asses at this court too) thought his fortune would be made, if he had in his majesty's mouth an advocate, which was bone of his bone. With stupid effrontery he

stepped forward, and offered to supply the deficiency with one of his teeth.

He

The ape proceeded to business, and rent a tooth from his jaw, which was unfortunately too small. dragged out another, which also proved too little. A third was too narrow; and a fourth too broad. He ranged, with the instrument, through the ass's mouth, now drawing a tooth from above, now from below, but none of them would suit. In vain did the poor ass bray, and complain that he had not one left with which he could chew a thistle. Ere a quarter of an hour had elapsed he stood toothless, bleeding, and with fallen ears; notwithstanding which, the gap in his majesty's mouth remained unfilled. The lion was now incensed beyond all bounds.

Thou villain," roared he, “who hast not even a tooth which can be used, what hinders me that I do not tear thy jaws asunder? Out of my sight, and never dare to appear again before me!"

Courtiers, mark this. The best intention, the greatest sacrifice, if-even without your fault-it have not the desired effect, is rewarded, by the great, with ingratitude.

FOR THE POCKET MAGAZINE.

B. T.

MAXIMS, ANECDOTES, AND SALLIES OF

WIT.

BY M. CHAMPFORT.

A MAN of talent is lost, if his talent be not accompanied by energy of character. He who has the lantern of Diogenes ought likewise to have his staff.

The world and society resemble a library, where, at the first glance, every thing seems to be in a state of regularity, because the books are placed according to the form and size of the volumes; but where, in fact, every thing is in disorder, because nothing is arranged according to the order of sciences, of subjects, or of authors.

La Fontaine hearing a person pity the fate of the damned, in the midst of flames, said, "I hope that

they get used to it, and that at last they become like fish in the water.'

Generosity is only the pity of noble minds.

Love pleases more than marriage; for the same reason that romances are more amusing than history. False modesty is the most decent of all falsehoods. Experience, which enlightens individuals, corrupts princes and men in office.

Too superior qualities frequently render a man less proper for society. We do not go to market with ingots, but with silver and small change.

Courtiers are poor men enriched by begging.

The fanatical language which the bishop of Dol held to the king, with respect to the recall of the protestants is well known. The bishop of Saint Pol asking him why he spoke in the name of his brother bishops, without having consulted them, he replied, "I consulted my crucifix." In that case, retorted the bishop of Saint Pol," you ought to repeat exactly what your crucifix said to you.'

Duclos, in order not to profane the name of Roman, in speaking of modern Romans, always used to say "an Italian of Rome."

Society, circles, drawing rooms, what is called the world, is a wretched drama, a bad, uninteresting opera, which obtains something of a run only by the means of the machinery and decorations.

Few can imagine how much talent is necessary to be never ridiculous.

When we observe the care which our social institutions seem to have taken to exclude men of merit from all the places in which they might be useful to society, when we examine the league of blockhead against men of talent, we may almost believe that we are witnessing a conspiracy of footmen to drive away their masters.

That which occasions the success of many works is the analogy which there is between the mediocrity of the author's ideas, and the mediocrity of the ideas of the public.

The greatest part of the books of the present period, seem as if they had been made in a day out of the books read the day before.

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