lady: the husband discovered this, and murdered his wife; but the murderer was found dead in the street the same night, under circumstances which did not admit of attaching suspicion to any one.' "Lord B. fled from Florence, and seems to drag spectres after him ever afterwards.

"This strange incident receives a high degree of probability, from innumerable allusions in his poems; as, for instance, in his application of the story of Pausanias to himself.

"What a wounded heart must the poet have, who selects from antiquity such an event, applies it to himself, and loads his tragic resemblance with it!"

AUTHORS' CLUB.

"THE poet, in shabby finery, holding a manuscript in his hand, was earnestly endeavouring to persuade the company to hear him read the first book of an heroic poem, which he had composed the day before. But against this, all the members objected. They knew no reason why any member of the club should be indulged with a particular hearing, when many of them had published whole volumes, which had never been looked in. They insisted that the law

should be observed, where reading in company was expressly noticed. It was in vain that the plaintiff pleaded the peculiar merit of his piece; he spoke to an assembly insensible to all his remonstrances: the book of laws was opened, and read by the secretary; where it was expressly enacted, That whatsoever poet, speech-maker, eritic, or historian, should presume to engage the company, by reading his own works, he was to lay down sixpence previous to opening the manuscript, and should be charged one shilling an hour while he continued reading; the said shilling to be equally distributed among the company, as a recompence for their trouble.'

"Our poet seemed, at first, to shrink at the penalty, hesitating, for some time, whether he should deposit the fine or shut up the poem; but looking round, and perceiving two strangers in the room, his love of fame outweighed his prudence, and, laying down the sum by law established, he insisted on his prerogative.

"A profound silence ensuing, he began by explaining his design :- Gentlemen,' says he, 'the present piece is not one of your common epic poems, which come from the press like paper kites in summer: there are none of your

Turnuses or Didos in it; it is an heroical description of nature. I only beg you'll endeavour to make your souls in unison with mine, and hear with the same enthusiasm with which I have written. The poem begins with the description of an author's bed-chamber: the picture was sketched in my own apartment; for you must know, gentlemen, that I am myself the hero.' Then, putting himself into the attitude of an orator, with all the emphasis of voice and action, he proceeded :

"Where the Red Lion staring o'er the way, Invites each passing stranger that can pay;

Where Calvert's butt, and Parson's black champagne,
Regale the drabs and bloods of Drury-lane;

There, in a lonely room, from bailiffs snug,
The Muse found Scroggen stretch'd beneath a rug;
A window, patch'd with paper, lent a ray,
That dimly shew'd the state in which he lay;
The sanded floor that grits beneath the tread,
The humid wall with paltry pictures spread;
The royal game of goose was there in view;
And the twelve rules the royal martyr drew;
The seasons, fram'd with listing, found a place,
And brave Prince William shew'd his lamp-black face:
The morn was cold, he views with keen desire

The rusty grate unconscious of a fire;

With beer and milk arrears the frieze was scor'd,
And five crack'd tea-cups dress'd the chimney-board:
A night-cap deck'd his brows instead of bay,
A cap by night- -a stocking all the day!"

"With this last line he seemed so much elated, that he was unable to proceed: 'There, gentlemen,' cries he, there is a description for you; Rabelais's bed-chamber is but a fool to it:

'A cap by night- -a stocking all the day!"

There is sound, and sense, and truth, and nature, in the trifling compass of ten little syllables.'

"He was too much employed in self-admiration to observe the company; who, by nods, winks, shrugs, and stifled laughter, testified every mark of contempt. He turned severally to each for their opinion, and found all, however, ready to applaud. At last, addressing himself to the President, And pray, Mr. Squint,' says he,

let us have your opinion.' 'Mine?' answered the President, (taking the manuscript out of the author's hands,)—' may this glass suffocate me, but I think it equal to any thing I have seen; and I fancy,' (continued he,) doubling up the

poem, and forcing it into the author's pocket, 'that you will get great honour when it comes out; so I shall beg leave to put it in. We shall not intrude upon your good nature in desiring to hear more of it at present; ex ungue Herculem;' we are satisfied, perfectly satisfied.' The author made two or three attempts to pull it out a second time, and the President made as many to prevent him. Thus, though with reluctance, he was obliged at last to sit down, contented with the commendations for which he had paid."

GOLDSMITH'S ESSAYS.

POPE'S VILLA.

POPE purchased an estate at Twickenham, in the year 1715, and resided there the remainder of his life. Within the walls of the same villa that had witnessed his rise in literary fame, he died, on the 30th of May, 1744.

The house was not large, but sufficiently commodious for the wants of an English gentleman, whose friends visited himself rather than his dwelling, and who were superior to the necessity of stately ceremonials. Here, Pope wrote most of his Letters and Poems which have commu