with a good sized sack, and hired a room in the suburbs of a poor widow, giving himself out as a teacher of youth. Having paid a week's lodging in advance, he took the key into his own possession, and, when the dews of evening fell, proceeded again to that old castle, which now possessed a charm in his eyes. Finding that his treasure was undisturbed, he proceeded to load himself with as much as he thought that he could conveniently carry, without attracting observation, until he had bagged four dozen silver plates; eighteen silver dishes; four cases of silver-gilt goblets; three handsome candlesticks, together with spoons and knives; all of which he quietly transported to his room; and, afterwards, putting them into a box, which he strapped on his shoulders, proceeded to Strasburg, where he carefully, and by degrees, converted them into bullion. Finding that his treasure amounted to two thousand rix-dollars, which he converted into ducats, he went to the Hague, where he lived frugally enough, well wotting that a treasure of that kind does not fall to a man's lot twice in his life.

After this he married a young widow, who kept an hotel, (she must have been a

syren, of course, vide chap. XXIII,) and who was well to do in the world, with whom he led a very comfortable life.

After some time a privy councillor happened to be journeying to the Hague, and it so fell out that he put up at this hotel. On hearing his host's name, he enquired whether he was a native of those parts, and if not, what had induced him to come thither. Having listened to his reply, he informed him that they had been fellow students together, and that he was a near relative. On this the ci-devant student opened his heart and frankly related every circumstance to him. Hereon, his friend weighed all this kingly service of plate for him, and found it to weigh 233 marks; which, reckoning the mark at sixteen florins, amounted to 4728 florins, which this poor student had thus acquired by his prudence and discretion.

We regret that it is not in our power to inform the Douster-swivels of the age where ghosts now hold their banquets, and leave their spoons and forks behind them, as little boys and big ones too, for that matter, are requested to do when they quit a boarding school at the expiration of the quarter. We have never

even had a card of invitation ourselves, which we consider unhandsome, seeing that we are the faithful chroniclers of their festivities : (quite as good as the Morning Post is of those of the "fashionable world,") and we would not recommend the experiment to be tried at a table of living guests, lest the hapless filcher should, unexpectedly, find himself sent, to what the native articles of war call, "Bunkal Point," or the Tenasserim Provinces.

CHAPTER XXIII.

"Thou remember'st

Since once I sat upon a promontory,
And heard a mermaid on a dolphin's back,

Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath,
That the rude sea grew civil at her song;

And certain stars shot madly from their spheres,

To hear the sea maid's music !"

MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM,

Act ii., Scene 2.

OF SEA MONSTERS.

Dr. Bräuner, in this chapter, as well as in four others, entitled respectively, "the Wonders of Creation in the Water," "the Wonders of Creation in the Earth," and so on of the other

two elements, treats of those things which are now no longer wonders, such as mermaids, syrens or melusima, whales, sharks, &c.; and which we, therefore, thought at one time of passing over altogether; but we think, upon consideration, that we can do a nice little bit of allegorical in them, and so we will take his animals as our prototypes, and see whether in the genus homo, that race which furnishes so much food for satire, and which is so often, alas! to be wept over for its vices and follies, we cannot find the antitypes; and, as each class will smart in turn under the lash, we hope none will take offence, but rather that all will seek amendment; for there is a vast field for improvement in all.

And first, as in gallantry bound, and strictly adhering to Dr. Bräuner's arrangement, we begin with the ladies. Our author tells us of many syrens, that, in his time, were wont to inhabit the stormy shores of the Cape of Good Hope, and, by their enchanting songs, allure ships to destruction on the L'Agullas bank, or on the shores of the Bay. In our days these syrens "have given up the sea," and betaken themselves to the shore. Instead of dancing bewitchingly on the crest of a curling wave, coquettishly combing their locks the while, they