out by a similar sign. But who knows not Eastcheap and the Boar's Head? Have we not all been there time out of mind? And is it not a more real as well as notorious thing to us than the London Tavern, or the Crown and Anchor, or the Hummums, or White's, or What's-his-name's, or any other of your contemporary and fleeting taps?

"But a line or two, a single sentence in an author of former times, will often give a value to the commonest object. It not only gives us a sense of its duration, but we seem to be looking at it in company with its old observer; and we are reminded, at the same time, of all that was agreeable in him. We never saw, for instance, even the gilt ball at the top of the College of Physicians, without thinking of that pleasant mention of it in 'Garth's Dispensary;' and of all the wit and generosity of that amiable

man:

'Not far from that most celebrated place,*
Where angry Justice shews her awful face,
Where little villains must submit to fate,
That great ones may enjoy the world in state;

*The Old Bailey."

S

VOL. III.

There stands a dome, majestic to the sight,
And sumptuous arches bear its oval height;
A golden globe, plac'd high with artful skill,
Seems, to the distant sight, a gilded pill.'

"Gay, in describing the inconvenience of the late narrow part of the Strand, by St. Clement's, took away a portion of its unpleasantness to the next generation, by associating his memory with the objects in it. We did not miss without regret even the 'combs' that hung ‹ dangling in your face' at a shop which he describes, and which was standing till the improvements took place. The rest of the picture is still alive. (Trivia, b. 3.)

'Where the fair columns of St. Clement stand,
Whose straiten'd bounds encroach upon the Strand;
Where the low pent-house bows the walker's head,
And the rough pavement wounds the yielding tread;
Where not a post protects the narrow space,
And, strung in twines, combs dangle in thy face;
Summon at once thy courage, rouse thy care,

'Stand firm, look back, be resolute, beware.
Forth issuing from steep lanes, the colliers' steeds

Drag the black load; another cart succeeds;

Team follows team, crowds heap'd on crowds appear, And wait impatient till the road grow clear.'

"There is a touch in the Winter Picture in the same poem, which every body will recognize:

'At White's the harness'd chairman idly stands,
And swings around his waist his tingling hands.'

"The bewildered passenger in the Seven Dials is compared to Theseus in the Cretan Labyrinth. And thus we come round to the point at which we began.

"Before we rest our wings, however, we must take another dart over the City, as far as Stratford at Bow, where, with all due tenderness for boarding-school French, a joke of Chaucer's has existed as a piece of local humour for nearly four hundred and fifty years. Speaking of the Prioress, who makes such a delicate figure among his Canterbury Pilgrims, he tells us, among her other accomplishments, that

'French she spake full faire and featously;'

adding, with great gravity,

'After the school of Stratforde atte Bowe;

For French of Paris was to her unknowe.'

LEIGH HUNT.

MS. OF POPE'S "ILIAD."

THE MS. of the "Iliad" descended from Lord Bolingbroke to Mallet, and is now to be found in the British Museum, where it was deposited at the pressing instance of Dr. Maty. Mr. D'Israeli, in the first edition of his “ Curiosities of Literature,” has exhibited a fac-simile of one of the pages. It is written upon the backs and covers of letters and other fragments of papers, evincing that it was not without reason he was called "Paper-sparing Pope."

POPE'S REMUNERATION FOR THE "ILIAD."

"POPE's contract with Lintot was, that he should receive for each volume of the Iliad,' besides all the copies for his subscribers, and for presents, two hundred pounds. The subscribers were five hundred and seventy-five: many subscribed for more than one copy, so that Pope must have received upwards of six thousand pounds. He was at first apprehensive that the contract might ruin Lintot, and endeavoured to dissuade him from thinking any more of it. The event, however, proved quite

the reverse; the success of the work was unparalleled, as at once to enrich the bookseller, and to prove a productive estate to the family."

SPENCE.

A TRULY POETICAL NIGHT.

PIRON, the celebrated Satirist, and Gallet and Collé, two congenial spirits, after spending an evening of great hilarity at the house of a lady, celebrated for her bel esprit, took their departure together, and on foot. On reaching the corner of La Rue du Harlay, Piron proposed to take leave of his companions, as his way lay by the Fauxbourg St. Germain, while theirs lay in the opposite directions of the Quartier St. Eustache. The two friends, however, would not hear of parting; they pressed to be allowed to escort Piron to his own door; expatiated on the danger which a solitary individual, at such an hour of the night, was in, of being way-laid by robbers; and enforced their representations, by a thousand stories of unfortunate persons, pillaged and murdered. Piron was not to be frightened; he persisted in going alone; and, as an excuse for his obstinacy, pretended that he had a piece of verse in his head, which he