tion, and what have I done for you? I have made you a woman of fashion, of fortune, of rank; in short, I have made you my wife.

LADY TEAZ. Well, then, and there is but one thing more you can make me to add to the obligation that is

SIR PET. My widow, I suppose?
LADY TEAZ. Hem! hem!

SIR PET. I thank you, madam! But don't flatter yourself; for, though your ill-conduct may disturb my peace of mind, it shall never break my heart, I promise you. However, I am equally obliged to you for the hint.

LADY TEAZ. Then why will you endeavor to make yourself so disagreeable to me and thwart me in every little elegant expense? SIR PET. Madam, I say, had you any of these little elegant expenses when you married me?

LADY TEAZ. Nay, Sir Peter; they are all people of rank and fortune, and remarkably tenacious of reputation.

SIR PET. Yes, they are tenacious of reputation with a vengeance, for they don't choose anybody should have a character but themselves. Such a crew! Ah! many a wretch has rid on a hurdle who has done less mischief than these utterers of forged tales, coiners of scandal and clippers of reputation.

LADY TEAZ. What! would you restrain the freedom of speech?

SIR PET. Ah! they have made you just as bad as any one of the society.

LADY TEAZ. Why, I believe I do bear a part with a tolerable grace.

SIR PET. Grace, indeed!

LADY TEAZ. But I vow I bear no malice against the people I abuse: when I say an ill-natured thing, 'tis out of pure humor;

SIR PET. The fashion, indeed! What had you to do with the fashion before you married me?

LADY TEAZ. For my part, I should think you would like to have your wife thought a woman of taste.

SIR PET. Ay, there again! Taste! Zounds, madam! you had no taste when you married me.

LADY TEAZ. That's very true indeed, Sir Peter; and, after having married you, I should never pretend to taste again, I allow. But now, Sir Peter, since we have finished our daily jangle, I presume I may go to my engagement at Lady Sneerwell's? SIR PET. Ay, there's another precious circumstance: a charming set of acquaintance you have made there.

SIR PET. Well, well, I'll call in, just to look after my own character.

LADY TEAZ. Then, indeed, you must make haste after me, or you'll be too late. So good-bye to ye. [Exit.

SIR PET. So I have gained much by my intended expostulation! Yet with what a charming air she contradicts everything I say, and how pleasantly she shows her contempt for my authority! Well, though I can't make her love me, there is great satisfaction in quarrelling with her; and I think she never appears to such advantage as when she is doing everything in her power to plague me.

RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN.

CHEAP JACKS AND DEAR JACKS.

IAM a Cheap Jack. Now, I'll tell you what I mean to go down into my grave declaring that, of all the callings ill-used in Great Britain, the Cheap-Jack calling is the worst used. Why ain't we a profession? Why ain't we endowed with privileges? Why are we forced to take out a hawker's license, when no such thing is expected of the political hawkers? Where's the difference betwixt us? Except that we are Cheap Jacks and they are Dear Jacks, I don't see any difference but what's in our favor.

For look here! Say it's election-time. I am on the foot-board of my cart in the market-place on a Saturday night. I put up a general miscellaneous lot. I say 'Now, here, my free and independent woters, I'm a-going to give you such a chance as you never had in all your born days, nor yet the days preceding. Now I'll show you what I am a-going to do with you. Here's a pair of razors that'll shave you closer than the Board of Guardians; here's a flat-iron worth its weight in gold; here's a fryingpan artificially flavored with essence of beef-steaks to that degree that you've only got for the rest of your lives to fry bread and dripping in it, and there you are replete with animal food; here's a genuine chronometer watch in such a solid silver case that you may knock at the door with it when you come home late from a social meeting and rouse your wife and family, and save up your knocker for the postman; and here's half a dozen dinner-plates that you may play the cymbals with to charm the baby when it's fractious. Stop! I'll throw you in another article, and I'll give you that, and it's a rolling-pin; and if the baby can

only get it well into its mouth when its

teeth is coming, and rub the gums once with it, they'll come through double in a fit of laughter equal to being tickled. Stop again! I'll throw you in another article, because I don't like the looks of you, for you haven't the appearance of buyers unless I lose by you, and because I'd rather lose than not take money to-night; and that article's a looking-glass in which you may see how ugly you look when you don't bid. What do you say now? Come! Do you say a pound?-Not you haven't you, for got it. Do you say ten shillings?—Not you, for you owe more to the tally-man.Well, then, I'll tell you what I'll do with you: I'll heap 'em all on the foot-board of the cart. There they are-razors, flat-iron, frying-pan, chronometer watch, dinner-plates, rolling-pin and looking-glass. Take 'em all away for four shillings, and I'll give you sixpence for your trouble." This is me, the Cheap Jack.

But on the Monday morning, in the same market-place, comes the Dear Jack on the hustings-his cart-and what does he say? "Now, my free and independent woters, I am a-going to give you such a chance" (he begins just like me)" as you never had in all your born days, and that's the chance of sending myself to Parliament. Now I'll tell you what I am a-going to do for you. Here's the interests of this magnificent town promoted above all the rest of the civilized and uncivilized earth. Here's your railways carried, and your neighbors' railways jockeyed. Here's all your sons in the post-office. Here's Brittania smiling on you. Here's the eyes of Europe on you. Europe on you. Here's universal prosperity

for

you, repletion of animal food, golden corn

fields, gladsome homesteads and rounds of applause from your own hearts, all in one lot, and that's myself. Will you take me as I stand? You won't? Well, then, I'll tell you what I'll do with you. Come, now! I'll throw you in anything you ask for. There! Church-rates, abolition of church-rates; more malt-tax, no malt-tax; uniwersal education to the highest mark, or uniwersal ignorance to the lowest; total abolition of flogging in the army, or a dozen for every private once a month all round; Wrongs of Men, or Rights of Women,-only say which it shall be, take 'em or leave 'em, and I'm of your opinion altogether, and the lot's your own on your

own terms. There! You won't take it yet? Well, then, I'll tell you what I'll do with you. Come! You are such free and independent woters, and I am so proud of you—you are such a noble and enlightened constituency, and I am so ambitious of the honor and dignity of being your member, which is by far the highest level to which the wings of the human mind can soar-that I'll tell you what I'll do with you: I'll throw you in all the public-houses in your magnificent town for nothing. Will that content you? It won't? You won't take the lot yet? Well, then, before I put the horse in and drive away, and make the offer to the next most magnificent town that can be discovered, I'll tell you what I'll do: take the lot, and I'll drop two thousand pound in the streets of your magnificent town for them to pick up that can. Not enough? Now, look here. This is the very furthest that I'm a-going to. I'll make it two thousand five hundred. And still you won't?-Here, missis! Put the horse. No, stop half a moment.-I shouldn't like to turn my back

upon you, neither, for a trifle. I'll make it two thousand seven hundred and fifty pound. There! Take the lot on your own terms, and I'll count out two thousand seven hundred and fifty pound on the foot-board of the cart, to be dropped in the streets of your magnificent town for them to pick up that can. What do you say? Come, now! You won't do better, and you may do worse. You take it? Hooray! Sold again, and got the seat!"

CHARLES DICKENS.

VICISSITUDES OF LIFE.

HERE is no unmixed good in human

affairs; the best principles, if pushed to excess, degenerate into fatal vices. Ger.erosity is nearly allied to extravagance; charity itself may lead to ruin; the sternness of justice is but one step removed from the severity of oppression. It is the same in the political world: the tranquillity of despotism resembles the stagnation of the Dead Sea: the fever of innovation, the tempests of the It would seem as if at particular ocean. periods, from causes inscrutable to human wisdom, a universal frenzy seizes mankind; reason, experience, prudence, are alike blinded, and the very classes who are to perish in the storm are the first to raise its fury.