Marvellous Erin! when St. Patrick's feat Thy hills, vales, plains, and bogs from reptiles freed, He little dream'd what monsters would succeed; Sinners who drink not, saints who never eat! And is there one, in whom the piece of meat Which Paris raves about, no care can breed! One who can never know a time of need, Though corn be trampled by the tempest's feet! Poor fellow! what enjoyment he foregoes! Nothing but air, a scrap of summer cloud, Fog with the chill off, is to him allow'd; A fine thick mist, or rainbow when it shows; But ah! for him no kitchen's steam up-flows; No knives, forks, spoons, or plates, a pilèd crowd, No dishes, glasses, salts, make music loud! Sad sinecurists all--mouth, ears, and nose! THE ASS ON THE LADDER. "For lowliness is young Ambition's ladder."--_Julius Cæsar._ At the end of the second volume of a Hebrew MS of the Bible, written on beautiful vellum, is the following passage, in fine large Hebrew characters:--"I, Meyer, the son of Rabbi Jacob, the scribe, have finished this book for Rabbi Abraham, the son of Rabbi Nathan, the 5052nd year (A.D. 1292); and he has bequeathed it to his children and his children's children for ever. Amen. Amen. Amen. Selah. Be strong and strengthened. May this book not be damaged, neither this day nor for ever, until the ASS ascends the LADDER." After which the accompanying rude figure is drawn.--_Pettigrew's Bibliotheca Sussexiana_, part I. vol. i. [Illustration] [Illustration] [Illustration] It would appear from the curious sentence copied above, that no longer ago than five centuries and a half, the feat which is pictured to the spectator in a fac-simile of the original drawing was regarded as an event of extremely improbable occurrence. The inference indeed may be, that it was deemed an impossibility. The prayer of the inscription is, "May this book be undamaged for ever."--May it be preserved "until the ass ascends the ladder!" "Till Birnam wood shall come to Dunsinane," is the unlikely occurrence which the weird sisters specify as the omen of Macbeth's fall; and "That will never be!" is the cry of the confident thane. In modern days we wish a man "good luck till he's tired of it;" or "prosperity till the sky falls." The despairing and lovelorn damsel in the ditty sings-- "When fishes fly, and swallows dive, Young men they will prove true." And one of the same ballad-family sets out with the affecting declaration, that-- "When gooseberries grow on the stem of a daisy,"