“A Recantation of an Ill-led Life, or a discovery of the highway law, as also many cautelous admonitions, and ful instructions how to know, shun, and apprehende a thiefe, most necessary for all honest travellers to peruse, observe, and practice; written by John Clavel, gent.”

* * * * *

ENGLISH FASHIONS.

Our constant changes of habit were the subject of ridicule at home and abroad, even at an early period.  Witness the ancient limner’s jest in 1570, who, being employed to decorate the gallery of the Lord Admiral Lincoln with representations of the costumes of the different nations of Europe, when he came to the English, drew a naked man, with cloth of various colours lying by him, and a pair of shears held in his hand, as in rueful suspense and hesitation; or the earlier conceit, to the same effect, of “Andrew Borde of Physicke Doctor,” alias “Andreas Perforatus,” who, to the first chapter of his “Boke of the Instruction of Knowledge,” (1542,) prefixed a naked figure, with these lines:—­

  “I am an Englishman, and naked I stande here,
  Musing in minde what rayment I shal weare: 
  For nowe I wil weare this, and now I will weare that—­
  And now I will weare I cannot telle whatt.”

* * * * *

THE GATHERER.

“A snapper-up of unconsidered trifles.”

SHAKSPEARE.

* * * * *

CONNING (quasi Cunning.)

A convict, during the voyage to New South Wales, slipped overboard, and was drowned—­What was his crime?—­Felo de se (fell o’er the sea.)

* * * * *

THE CHANGES OF TIME.

  I dreamt, in Fancy’s joyous day,
  That every passing month was May;
  But Reason told me to remember,
  And now, alas! they’re all December!

* * * * *

The only memorial of the death of Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, remaining at Kirkby Moorside (where he died in obscurity and distress,) is an entry in an old register of burials, which runs thus:  “1687, April 17th, Gorges Villus, Lord dook of bookingham.”—­Ellis Correspondence.

* * * * *

Had we not lov’d so dearly,
Had we not lov’d sincerely,
Had vows been never plighted,
Our hopes had ne’er been blighted,

          
                                                    Dearest.

Had we met in younger days,
Had we fled each other’s gaze,
Oh had we never spoken,
Our hearts had ne’er been broken,

          
                                                    Dearest.

Had you not look’d so kindly,
Had I not lov’d so blindly,
No pain ’twould be to sever,
As now we may for ever,

                                                              Dearest.