ton Gardens any where to escape the vortex-But my wife followed; embraced me, and promised to explain all to my entire satisfaction.To my satisfaction, alas! In a word, my wife's silence had arisen from a quinsey in the tongue, brought on by a speechifying at an Auxiliary Missionary Society for the conversion of the Chinese-her sedentary habit was the necessity for rest, from having broken the tendon Achilles by dancing the sauteuse at a ball in the city-her delicate health, to which she owed her temporary languor, proceeded from a cold caught while superintending some architectural speculations, in the Regent's Park-her literary preoccupation was only a pis aller to give vent to her abundant, but restricted vitality, and was a work which, with the name of " Mrs. Lazenby's Souvenir for the year 1826," was to surpass the combined effort of all those Muses and Apollo's who emptied their literary trash-bags into the fashionable Annuals. Her motive for marrying a poor creature in every thing the reverse of herself, was her rage for conversion, or meddling no matter how, having (as she observed) resolved upon animating the statue and calling forth the vital spark of heavenly flame," to use her own jargon, from beneath the smouldering embers of indolence and inertness: in fact, as "Prudes marry rakes, and pietists infidels." Her excuse for this duplicity was, that she loved me, and had written me down the hero of a Novel she had sold for five guineas to the Minerva Press, from seeing my handsome figure (as she was pleased to call it) lounge listlessly by her window for a whole summer before I had ever observed her. Fearful, however, of alarming me before she had obtained the perfect restoration of all her spells, she was resolved on taking me alive, as she expressed it, and, by amazing me into admiration of talents, acquirements, and charms I could never have guessed at, leaving it to time and perseverance to work the rest. But, alas! she has not left it to time. In a word, I found that I had married, in Mrs. Lazenby, all that I had feared in her whole sex-a sectarian, a blue-stocking, a waltzer, an architect, a politician, an "every thing by turns, and nothing long ;" a sort of moral St. Vitus's dance; and this I had done in that profound indolence which has ever yielded me up to first impressions, because it was a trouble to examine, and a bore to wait for the accomplishment of any object that struck my faney. Alas! had I had but the energy, the curiosity, to have looked into her "Literary Souvenir," I should, in that multum in parvo, have read her whole character. Not contented with the respectable position in which our fortune of three thousand a-year has placed us, my restless and ambitious wife insists on my thrusting myself upon public notice, and becoming what she calls "a personage." She will have it, that I possess extraordinary talents, if my idleness would permit me to render them available. Sometimes she wants me to go to the bar, and points to the woolsack, (a prospect not without its charms); again, she thinks I am a heaven-born statesman, and speaker of the speaker's chair, a sound that at least flatters the ear; but when all her eloquence and pertinacity fail to rouse me from my beloved "far niente," then she becomes sarcastic, calls me the "Green Man and Still, (in allusion to the hereditary colour of my coat)'; and had even the impertinence, the other day, to propose getting me a pair of leathern inexpressibles, to qualify me for hatching eggs,the only thing, she observed, I was fit for. In short, worried, teased,

driven from room to room, and chair to chair, I have resolved to take
shelter from my wife's importunity, in any place or office which money
can procure, where there is nothing to do, and which will enable me
to keep Mrs. Lazenby quiet, and to remain so myself, which is
now my "being's end and object;" and if I could obtain this end
through your widely circulating medium, I am willing to purchase it by
an adequate remuneration-if any remuneration can be adequate to so
great a benefit.
I remain, Mr. Editor,

Your constant reader and admirer,
LAWRENCE LAZENBY.

STANZAS ON THE BATTLE OF NAVARINO.
HEARTS of oak that have bravely deliver'd the brave,
And uplifted old Greece from the brink of the grave,
'Twas the helpless to help, and the hopeless to save,
That your thunderbolts swept o'er the brine;
And as long as yon sun shall look down on the wave
The light of your glory shall shine.

For the guerdon ye sought with your bloodshed and toil,
Was it slaves, or dominion, or rapine, or spoil?

No! your lofty emprize was to fetter and foil

The uprooter of Greece's domain !

When he tore the last remnant of food from her s oil
Till her famish'd sank pale as the slain!

Yet, Navarin's heroes! does Christendom breed

The base hearts that will question the fame of your deed?
Are they men-let ineffable scorn be their meed,

And oblivion shadow their graves!—

Are they women? to Turkish serails let them speed!
And be mothers of Mussulman slaves.

Abettors of massacre! dare ye deplore

That the death-shriek is silenced on Hellas's shore?
That the mother aghast sees her offspring no more
By the hand of Infanticide grasp'd?

And that stretch'd on yon billows distain'd by their gore
Missolonghi's assassins have gasp'd?

Prouder scene never hallow'd war's pomp to the mind,
Than when Christendom's pennons woo'd social the wind,
And the flower of her brave for the combat combined,
Their watch-word, humanity's vow ;-

Not a sea-boy that fought in that cause, but mankind
Owes a garland to honour his brow!

Nor grudge, by our side, that to conquer or fall,

Came the hardy rude Russ, and the high-mettled Gaul;
For whose was the genius, that plann'd at its call,
Where the whirlwind of battle should roll?
All were brave! but the star of success over all,
Was the light of our Codrington's soul.

That star of thy day-spring, regenerate Greek!
Dimm'd the Saracen's moon, and struck pallid his cheek:
In its fast flushing morning thy Muses shall speak
When their lore and their lutes they reclaim:

And the first of their songs from Parnassus's peak
Shall be "Glory to Codrington's name !”

T. C

THE FALL OF TON-CIVIC FEASTING.

THE amalgamation of Port with cheese, declared by quite the first authority most decidedly vulgar. Sherry promoted, rice Port dismissed the service; Madeira placed upon half-pay; Grenache, Courtailleux, and Bourgogne Mousseux appointed, vice Hockheimer and Champagne unattached! Alas! the ancient Commander-in-Chief of the Gastronomic corps has no longer a voice in the nominations ;-he treads his melancholy pas in the Pas de Calais; regarding with lacklustre eye the Straits he detests; quaffing Champagne to obliterate the real pain which possesses his well-padded breast, and dreaming of happier days, when the Tenth yet drank and danced; when Petersham and Mellish, and Craven and Tom Sheridan were not yet forgotten; when Royalty disdained not his advice, nor Jacquier his order; when Stultz smiled and Gilbert bowed at his presence; and even Hoby sought his sanction for a boot, and Leader for a curricle; when in the world of fashion and of taste, his dictum decided what was orthodox or "quite correct:"-ere Sir Walter romanced or Irving preached, Coleridge wrote lay sermons, or Coates had ta'en unto himself a wife;when Dejé boasted of having once been honoured by his presence, and Lord Wellington's despatches were thrown aside to listen to his fate-deciding voice. Then was he as correct and measured in expression as in the cut of his coat; as restrained in demonstration of choler as liberal in that of his collar; as inimical to unseemly transport as to Sir William Curtis or Alderman Flower; and once, only once, known to have accorded unseemly largess to a burst of sentiment.

It was at "the Piazza," the dullest place he had ever honoured by his patronage, or awarded " a success" to by his presence,--that towards the close of that splendid and memorable career, which will be remembered when those of Bonaparte and Wellington shall have sunk in oblivion on one of the gloomiest days of the suicidal and civicrevelling month of November, (how adapted is the thing to the season, both dull, vulgar, and foggy!)-a stranger entered the coffee-room, where he stood ruminating on the fast-decaying glories he had once attained, fashionable of appearance, easy and elegant in manner; his Kent proportioned to the breadth of a nail (for Kents had just appeared); his whip of polished Bermuda sea-weed; his gloves of true Parisian glaze; his cravat classical; the boot-toe admirably turned; the heel of proper height--all, all announcing one who, if not known yet, would be ere long decidedly distinguished by fame; but, strange to say, to him, the Walking Directory of all that was of fit or proper in the world's capital, unknown and unremembered. The spirit that appeared in the tent of the Roman patriot ere he fell,--the red mysterious dwarf who first presented himself at the Pyramids of Egypt, and re-appeared on the plain of Austerlitz,-seemed less important or ominous to the earlier or later Consuls of the Tiber or the Seine, than did the person of that strange, mysterious dandy. The long-cherished drawl was forgotten, as "Who is he, waiter?" was with equal anxiety and emphasis demanded. "Really can't say, Sir: don't know the gentleman at all--never saw him before, Sir," was the reply. Never did Lord Eldon inclose the copper seals of the United Kingdom, when for the last time he looked upon the impress of Nassau, with more alarm; Bonaparte receive a report from De Genlis with more distaste ;

the King of the Netherlands regard an oppressive or unjust act with more abhorrence, than he beheld his double,-the warning shadow of his fleeting pride,-- the foreboder of his sure declension. "I will watch him well, however," he half sighed, as he regarded him with as equivocal a regard of affection as Cooke ever bestowed on Betty,Best gave to Wild,-Romilly once accorded to Giffard,-another Gifford to Dr. Wolcott,-Waithman to Alderman Atkins,-or Elliston to the water caraffe. Courteously as gracefully the Unknown bowed, and generously was the salute returned. In those days a bow was admissible, the shoulders were then moveable, and the foot had its part too to perform; the dipping the chin into the neckcloth was not yet deemed respectful enough even for Royalty itself. As you dare not ask Majesty to show you how a gentleman then bowed, mark Lord Bingham; and his bow, elegant as it is, exhibits not all the gracefulness of mind and temper which he who enacts it possesses.

"Where-is-the--carte ?" drawled out the interesting Unknown. "Mock Turtle! Mulligatawny! Gravy and Julien, Sir," was the appel nominel of the Ganymede. "Mock what, fel-low? Do you opine that I ever dined within the walls of Babylon; or in the Fauxbourg Saint Antoine? Prepare me some white soup di-rect-ly, and let me have some Lunel wine."-" Infinitely correct!" nodded the arbiter elegantiarum. "Quite gentlemanly, 'pon honour!--La soupe blanche et Lunel !—admirable alimentary ideas!"-"Fish, Sir?" said the Garçon, in response to the inquisitive glance of this novel man of ton: "Turbot, cod, haddock, eels, salmon."-" Sole bouilli, et sauce à capres, if-you-please,-and contemporaneously usher me a glass of Madeira."-" Excellent! excellent!" exclaimed the gratified observer: "certainly a person of taste, high taste; principle, exquisite principle !"-" Be so good, Sir, as to let me have a silver dessert knife," to the horror of his proposed patron, demanded the stranger.

"Plebeian, by the Gods! Quite happy no one sees me here; couteau and fish! In the Regent's name horrible, most horrible! quite as bad as a star placed on the very heart; or twice sanctioning the potage."-" Always-eat-my fish with a silver knife, Sir," calmly, and with a tone of firmness that announced one who dared boldly, and might sustain what he dared with an unflinching spirit ;there was that of high emprize in his look, and of lofty maintenance of purpose, as dashing aside a light stray lock from his forehead with his Parisian glove, he fixed his eye on vacancy, while great and noble musings occupied his mind. "A vile, a vulgar custom, Sir," he observed, his look addressed to the chandelier, his finger slightly pointed towards the humble waiter, "fork and the bread! borrowed of old time from our Gallic neighbours, who then using but one knife at the repast, cared not to pollute it with the gout poissoneux-the dire resource of indelicate poverty; vulgar in its origin and aim; odious, most odious in the sight of Gods and men !"--" Science! eloquence! accuracy, by Heavens! A new light, by Petersham! Wise as orthodox! The Regent must sanction it; would write to his Royal Highness, but that cursed affair-that bell-never shall I bear it again. My fortunes are in their sear and yellow leaf."-" Fricassee of ris de veau, two gouttes of lemon acid, one of moutarde au Duc de Parme, a clove of ail suspended over it one-second-and-threefourths-precise-ly, with the slightest tincture of saffron and cayenne;

and let me taste one glass of Cote d'Or. Subsequently, mon brave, I deem that I could carve a beccassine, so that it be administered with sauce piquante, recollect: and a concomitant verre of Tonnerre Mousseux, iced→→→→→ if-it-be-possible."-" Brilliant arrangement! happy adaptation! Whence comes he? Who may he be? At least at least, when I am gone and unremembered, as I shall be; when Hun and Fin and Goth once more invade the world of fashion unreproved and unresisted; when refinement shall be violated by the Eastern hordes; and when that hour of darkness shall arrive that even the nine-fathom-cod-eating gastronomic savage of a city banker shall presume to sit, and even to refect in the halls of princes,-I shall be consoled, in that my hour of sorrow, by knowing that one yet survives who may regenerate a degraded age, and assert the rights of elegance and taste!"-" Cheese, Sir?"— With an eye teeming with scorn, horror, and indignation, the Person regarded the low-born proposer of such contamination. So Priam looked when one "drew his curtains at the dead of night, and would have told him half his Troy was burnt:" so Coleridge stared when the Quarterly was first withdrawn: such a glance did Brougham once deign to accord to him of Somersetshire: so did Lord Ellenborough frown upon the sturdy Hone: so once did Kemble, as Coriolanus, with his patrician eye regard the vulgarest of Rome's vulgar, as represented by the diminutive Simmons, or Mrs. Beverley blast the vicious Stukely "with her sight:" so looked Monsieur de Villele when the return of the Opposition deputies was first announced; or the Austrian Francis when Metternich told his intended union with Lækem. It was petri, fying-denouncing-accablant; and the wretched waiter shrank trembling from its tremendous effect. "Some Pine and Lafitte," at length the offended Inconnu directed," and-after-caffe."-"Right Moka, Sir?" "Java; presumptuous man! the large and golden Java berry-and an idea-nothing more-of purest Zara."- "Too much, too much! by Carlton House-I must-I shall-I will!-Pardon me, Sir but with intensest admiration I have listened to the 'superbe repartition' of your régal-I esteem you, Sir, as I never esteemed mortal man before; -were I disloyal or disaffected, I might even-but no, Sir; but one is your parallel now that I have abdicated. Allow me;-a prise. Whence it be, if I presume not too far?"- "Presented me by Ali Pacha; quite the best espèce of Jannina. You are pleased to regard the box."-" Composition, I would assert?"-"The lost art, Sir; its fellow is in the possession of the Prince of Canino."—" Perhaps I have the gratification of not being unknown to you, Sir?"—“ Į would be little disposed to stultify myself by a confession to the contrary."-" And you, my-very-dear-Sir !" Another gracious bow, which might have rivalled the homage-speaking but dignified curtsey of a Siddons as Lady Macbeth, was the sole reply. The glazed glove was leisurely drawn on; the Bermuda sea-weed assumed; the Kent swung gently by his side, as he placed two guineas on the table; and he vanished! Who or what he was has never yet been exactly ascertained. Often, it is reported, in the visions of the night, when in all the fearful horrors of the nightmare he dreams he dines with Sir William Curtis, or at the Mansion-house with the man of Fleet-street, will the gracious image of that interesting, that unknown being, flit before his eye to soothe and to appease the tumults of a disturbed fancy. It has been said that Lady Charlotte Bury once caught a

may