argued Will with a grin, 'that with honest intentions you first took me in but from the first night--and to say it I'm bold-I've been so very hot, that I'm sure I caught cold.' Quoth the landlord: Till now I ne'er had a dispute; I've let lodgings ten years: I'm a baker to boot; in airing your sheets, sir, my wife is no sloven; and your bed is immediately over my oven.' The oven !' says Will. Says the host: Why this passion? In that excellent bed died three people of fashion. Why so crusty, good sir?'Zounds! cries Will, in a taking. Who wouldn't be crusty with

half a year's baking?'

6

Will paid for his rooms; cried the host, with a sneer, 'Well, I see you've been going away half a year.' 'Friend, we can't well agree; yet no quarrel,' Will said; but I'd rather not perish while you make your bread.'-COLMAN.

REPORT OF AN ADJUDGED CASE.

NOT TO BE FOUND IN ANY OF THE BOOKS.

BETWEEN Nose and Eyes a strange contest arose, the spectacles set them unhappily wrong; the point in dispute was, as all the world knows, to which the said spectacles ought to belong. So Tongue was the lawyer, and argued the cause with a great deal of skill, and a wig full of learning; while chief baron Ear sat to balance the laws, so famed for his talent in nicely discerning. In behalf of the Nose it will quickly appear, and your lordship,' he said, 'will undoubtedly find, that the Nose has had spectacles always in wear, which amounts to possession time out of mind.' Then holding. the spectacles up to the court-' Your lordship observes they are made with a straddle, as wide as the ridge of the Nose is; in short, designed to sit close to it, just like a saddle. Again, would your lordship a moment suppose ('tis a case that has happened, and may be again) that the visage or countenance had not a Nose, pray who would, or who could, wear spectacles then?

On the whole it appears, and my argument shows, with a reasoning the court will never condemn, that the spectacles plainly were made for the Nose, and the Nose was as plainly intended for them.' Then shifting his side, (as a lawyer knows how,) he pleaded again in behalf of the Eyes: but what were his arguments few people know, for the court did not think they were equally wise. So his lordship decreed with a grave solemn tone, decisive and clear, without one if or but-that, whenever the Nose put his spectacles on, by daylight or candle-light-Eyes should be shut !-COWPER.

DAY AND NIGHT.

THE dawning of a fine day is a magnificent sight, and one that well repays any inconvenience we may be at to behold. It is then that

With silver ray

The star of morning ushers in the day;

The shadows fly before the roseate hours,

And the chill dew hangs glittering on the flowers.

Or, as our greatest poet writes, when

The gentle lark, weary of rest,

From his moist cabinet mounts up on high,

And wakes the morning, from whose silver breast
The sun ariseth in his majesty.

And he adds

Who doth the world so gloriously behold,

The cedar tops and hills seem burnished gold.

In another passage, he says :

Full many a glorious morning have I seen

Flatter the mountain-tops with their sovereign eye,
Kissing with golden face the meadows green,
Gliding pale streams with heavenly alchemy.

Milton, too, describes how

The morn,

Waked by the circling hours, with rosy hand
Unbarred the gates of light.

And in the following beautiful passage from 'L'Allegro,' he tells us that among the many pleasures of early morning are

To hear the lark begin his flight,
And singing, startle the dull night,
From his watch-tower in the skies,
Till the dappled dawn doth rise;
Then to come, in spite of sorrow,
And at my window bid good-morrow,
Through the sweet-briar, or the vine,
Or the twisted eglantine:

While the cock, with lively din,
Scatters the rear of darkness thin,
And to the stack, or the barn-door,
Stoutly struts his dames before:
Oft listening how the hounds and horn
Cheerly rouse the slumbering morn,
From the side of some hoar hill,
Through the high wood echoing shrill:
Sometime walking, not unseen,
By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green,
Right against the eastern gate,
Where the great sun begins his state,
Robed in flames, and amber light,
The clouds in thousand liveries dight;
While the ploughman near at hand,
Whistles o'er the furrow'd land,
And the milkmaid singeth blithe,
And the mower whets his scythe,
And every shepherd tells his tale
Under the hawthorn in the dale.

Beattie speaks in a similar strain :—

But who the melodies of morn can tell?
The wild brook babbling down the mountain side;
The lowing herd; the sheepfold's simple bell;
The pipe of early shepherd dim descried
In the lone valley; echoing far and wide,
The clamorous horn along the cliffs above;
The hollow murmur of the ocean-tide;
The hum of bees, the linnet's lay of love,
And the full choir that wakes the universal grove.

The cottage curs at early pilgrim bark;

Crown'd with her pail the tripping milkmaid sings;
The whistling ploughman stalks afield; and hark!
Down the rough slope the ponderous waggon rings;

Through rustling corn the hare astonish'd springs;
Slow tolls the village-clock the drowsy hour;
The partridge bursts away on whirring wings;
Deep mourns the turtle in sequester'd bower,
And shrill lark carols clear from her aërial tour.

Another writer says:

I walked in the morn, when the beautiful shower
Had left its tears on many a flower;

When many a pearly diadem

Was hanging upon the rose's stem;
And the fair lily's bell was set
With a bright dewy coronet.

And there the jessamine was budding

With silver stars, its leaves bestudding;
And one rain-drop of lustre meek

Was laid on a rose's smiling cheek;

And the rising sun, with his welcome glance,
Had waked the buds from their evening trance:
And the ivy that circled the mouldering stone
Shone with a brilliancy not its own.

Gradually the sun mounts in the heavens, till at noon—
It glitters in the southern sky,

Its beams with force and glory beat,

And fruitful earth is filled with heat

And after passing the meridian, it slowly sinks to the west, and evening creeps on apace. Milton, describing the close of one of the first days in Paradise, has truthfully depicted the changes that accompany it

Now came still evening on, and twilight gray
Had, in her sober livery, all things clad:
Silence accompanied; for beast and bird-
They to their grassy couch, these to their nests-
Were slunk: all, but the wakeful nightingale;
She, all night long, her amorous descant sung:
Silence was pleased. Now glowed the firmament
With living sapphires: Hesperus, that led
The starry host, rode brightest; till the moon,
Rising in clouded majesty, at length,-
Apparent queen!-unveil'd her peerless light,
And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw.

And Eve is represented by the poet as addressing Adam in a speech describing the beauties of morning and evening

Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet,
With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the sun,
When first, on this delightful land, he spreads
His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower,
Glistering with dew; fragrant the fertile earth,
After soft showers; and sweet the coming on
Of grateful evening mild; then silent night,
With this her solemn bird, and this fair moon,
And these the gems of heaven, her starry train.

The day is now past, and is succeeded by night, when-
The world's comforter, with weary gait,

His day's hot task has ended in the west:
The owl, night's herald, shrieks,-'tis very late;
The sheep are gone to fold, birds to their nest;
And coal-black clouds that shadow heaven's light,
Do summon us to part, and bid good night.

Of a fine moonlight night, Southey has said :—
How beautiful is night!

A dewy freshness fills the silent air;

No mist obscures, nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain,
Breaks the serene of heaven:

In full-orb'd glory yonder moon divine

Rolls through the dark-blue depths.
Beneath her steady ray

The desert-circle spreads,

Like the round ocean, girdled with the sky:
How beautiful is night!

THE SEASONS-SPRING.

I come, I come! ye have called me long:
I come o'er the mountains with light and song;
Ye may trace my step o'er the waking earth,
By the winds which tell of the violet's birth,
By the primrose stars in the shadowy grass,
By the green leaves opening as I pass.

AFTER having experienced a wet and snowy, and therefore cold and dreary winter, the first mild days which indicate the return of Spring are hailed with joy and gladness by everyone. The pleasures of spring are thus referred to in the Song of Solomon-Lo! the