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importance to the public.. The learned judge commented strongly on the ignorance of the defendant's father, a man more ignorant than the most ignorant that they had ever before heard examined in any court. Was this man qualified for professing any science, particularly one in which the health and even the lives of the public were involved? Yet through such an impure medium alone had the defendant received his knowledge of this profession. There was not the least proof of the defendant having for a single minute been in a situation to receive instruction from any one really act ing as an apothecary. If the jury thought that the defendant had acted as an apothecary before the time mentioned in the act, they would find a verdict for him; but otherwise, they would find for the plaintiffs in one penalty. The jury almost instantly returned a verdict for the plaintiffs.

A G OR A J.

A GENTLEMAN not long ago, busily engaged in writing a letter, turned suddenly to his wife to inquire, "whether Religion was spelt with a G or a J." "Indeed, my dear," replied the wife," "I cannot say exactly; but your best plan will be to write it in such a manner that it will do for either." This advice was certainly very consistent with the practice of the world, is sometimes wonderfully convenient, though at other times productive of much mischief. Thus, for instanceWhen a pettifogging attorney gets a dirty case to handle, especially when some degree of mystery is attached to it, he generally contrives matters to do for either-a G or a J.

When the will of some hearty fellow is read by his relatives and friends, how often is it discovered, though duly signed and sealed, that many, but too many places are found which serve equally well either for or a J!

Ca G

When a newspaper editor has published in due form his ipse dixit upon a circumstance which afterwards turns out rather contrary to his opinion, does he not often make it appear that it is immaterial whether he uses- -the G or the J?

When our good friend Francis Moore offereth his predictions for the gratification of the curious, whether the events of the year be good or bad, will not his prophecies be equally correct, whether read with the -G or the J?

When a counsellor hath laboured to convince a jury, that the case in question is decidedly in favour of G, does not a "learned friend" often establish a claim in favour of J?

When a general election takes place, do not the gentry on the hustings make use of expressions so different from those they use in the house, that we find they can use, at their pleasure, the-G or the J?

When a fracas, which is sometimes the case, happens among our fashionable dandies, are not the laws of honour often evaded, and the business settled by the simple method of the G or the J?

When we see, what is too common at present, a matrimonial squabble, are we not led to conclude that both parties mistook- -the G for the J?

When monarchs have been at a great expense of blood and treasure in prosecuting a war, and when, mutually tired, they at last patch up a treaty, are we not completely nonplussed to discover whether we should read- -a G or a J?

When we attend the levees of the great, and hear the conversation there carried on, are we not often out of our depth when trying to discover which is meant a G or a J?

When we pursue a train of logical research, vainly hoping to arrive at the truth, does it not often happen that either in the major or the minor we have mistaken the G for the J?

When we take up a philosophical treatise, and until satiated with its dryness continue to peruse it with un

wearied attention, are we not often completely foiled in our endeavours to discover whether the author means -a Gor a J?

But while I am thus rambling, most probably some one will lay down the book, and express himself with due gravity-"The fellow falls into the error he is labouring to expose, for I cannot for the life of me discover, whether he means to use the G or the J." To such I must say, that he may use either G or J according to his pleasure, without being in the least danger of destroying the sapient wisdom contained in this essay, and with assuring him that I will at least in one instance endeavour to avoid using the G for the J, by subscribing myself in the corner

T. T.

Pocket Magazine.

THE STOUT GENTLEMAN;

A STAGE COACH ROMANCE,

"I'll cross it, though it blast me."—Hamlet.

It was a rainy Sunday, in the gloomy month of November. I had been detained, in the course of a journey, by a slight indisposition, from which I was recovering; but I was still feverish, and was obliged to keep within doors all day, in an inn of the small town of Derby. A wet Sunday in a country inn! whoever has had the luck to experience one, can alone judge of my situation. The rain pattered against the casements; the bells tolled for church with a melancholy sound. I went to the window in quest of something to amuse the eye; but it seemed as if I had been placed completely out of the reach of all amusement. The windows of my bed-room looked out among tiled roofs and stacks of chimneys, while those of my sitting-room commanded a full view of the stable-yard. I know of nothing more calculated to make a man sick of this

world than a stable-yard on a rainy day. The place was littered with wet straw that had been kicked about by travellers and stable-boys. In one corner was a stagnant pool of water, surrounding an island of muck; there were several half-drowned fowls crowded together under a cart, among which was a miserable, crest-fallen cock, drenched out of all life and spirit; his drooping tail matted, as it were, into a single feather, along which the water trickled from his back; near the cart was a half-dozing cow, chewing the cud, and standing patiently to be rained on, with wreaths of vapour rising from her reeking hide; a wall-eyed horse, tired of the loneliness of the stable, was poking his spectral head out of a window, with the rain dripping on it from the eaves; an unhappy cur, chained to a doghouse hard by, uttered something every now and then between a bark and a yelp; a drab of a kitchen-wench tramped backwards and forwards through the yard in pattens, looking as sulky as the weather itself; every thing, in short, was comfortless and forlorn, excepting a crew of harddrinking ducks, assembled like boon companions round a puddle, and making a riotous noise over their liquor.

I was lonely and listless, and wanted amusement. My room soon became insupportable. I abandoned it, and sought what is technically called the travellers'room. This is a public room set apart at most inns for the accommodation of a class of wayfarers, called travellers, or riders; a kind of commercial knights errant, who are incessantly scouring the kingdom in gigs, on horseback, or by coach. They are the only successors that I know of at the present day to the knights errant of yore. They lead the same kind of roving adventurous life, only changing the lance for a driving-whip, the buckler for a pattern card, and a coat of mail for an upper Benjamin. Instead of vindicating the charms of peerless beauty, they rove about spreading the fame and standing of some substantial tradesman or manufacturer, and are ready at any time to bargain in his name; it being the fashion now-a-days to trade, instead of fight, with one another. As the room of the

hotel, in the good old fighting times, would be hung round at night with the armour of way-worn warriors, such as coats of mail, falchions, and yawning helmets; so the travellers'-room is garnished with the harnessing of their successors, with box-coats, whips of all kinds, spurs, gaiters, and oil-cloth covered hats.

I was in hopes of finding some of these worthies to talk with, but was disappointed. There were, indeed, two or three in the room; but I could make nothing of them. One was just finishing his breakfast, quarrelling with his bread and butter, and huffing the waiter; another buttoned on a pair of gaiters, with many execrations at Boots for not having cleaned his shoes well; a third sat drumming on the table with his fingers, and looking at the rain as it streamed down the windowglass they all appeared infected by the weather, and disappeared, one after the other; without exchanging a word.

I

I sauntered to the window, and stood gazing at the people, picking their way to church, with petticoats hoisted mid-leg high, and dripping umbrellas. The bell ceased to toll, and the streets became silent. then amused myself with watching the daughters of a tradesman opposite; who being confined to the house for fear of wetting their Sunday finery, played off their charms at the front windows, to fascinate the chance tenants of the inn. They at length were summoned away by a vigilant vinegar-faced mother, and I had nothing further from without to amuse me.

What was I to do to pass away the long-lived day? I was sadly nervous and lonely; and every thing about an inn seems calculated to make a dull day ten times duller. Old newspapers, smelling of beer and tobacco smoke, and which I had already read half a dozen times. Good for nothing books, that were worse than rainy weather. I bored myself to death with an old volume of the Lady's Magazine. I read all the common-place names of ambitious travellers scrawled on the panes of glass; the eternal families of the Smiths and the

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