I am determined and candidly arrive at Corolary, as I am fully resolved to transfer a sufficient portion of money to you to recompense your liabilities from thence to hence. I hope your similar operations will not impede any occurrence that might obstruct your progression on or at the specified time the 17 of March next. SPANISH PLAY-BILL, _Exhibited at Seville, 1762._ To the Sovereign of Heaven—to the Mother of the Eternal World—to the Polar Star of Spain—to the Comforter of all Spain—to the faithful Protectress of the Spanish nation—to the Honor and Glory of the Most Holy Virgin Mary—for her benefit and for the Propagation of her Worship—the Company of Comedians will this day give a representation of the Comic Piece called— NANINE. The celebrated Italian will also dance the Fandango, and the Theatre will be respectably illuminated. * * * * * In a medical work entitled The _Breviarie of Health_, published in 1547, by Andrew Borde, a physician of that period, is a prologue addressed to physicians, beginning thus:— Egregious doctors and masters of the eximious and arcane science of physic, of your urbanity exasperate not yourselves against me for making this little volume. THE MAD POET. McDonald Clarke, commonly called the _mad poet_, died a few years ago in the Lunatic Asylum on Blackwell’s Island, New York. He wrote those oft-quoted lines,— Now twilight lets her curtain down, And pins it with a star. In his wilder moments he set all rules at defiance, and mingled the startlingly sublime and the laughably ridiculous in the oddest confusion. He talks thus madly of Washington:— Eternity—give him elbow room; A spirit like his is large; Earth, fence with artillery his tomb, And fire a double charge To the memory of America’s greatest man: Match him, posterity, if you can. In the following lines, he sketches, with a few bold touches, a well-known place, sometimes called a _rum-hole_:— Ha! see where the wild-blazing grogshop appears, As the red waves of wretchedness swell; How it burns on the edge of tempestuous years, The horrible light-house of hell! FOOTE’S FARRAGO. The following droll nonsense was written by Foote, the dramatist, for the purpose of trying the memory of Macklin, who boasted that he could learn any thing by heart on hearing it once:—