But carries now, with martial trot, In glittering armour, Walter Scott, A poet he――which thou art not, My Godwin! Nay, nay, forbear these jealous wails, Tho’ he’s upborne on fashion’s gales, Thy heavy bark attendant sails, My Godwin Fate each by different streams conveys, His skiff in Aganippe plays, And thine in Lethe’s whirlpool strays, My Godwin! From _Horace in London_, by James and Horace Smith, authors of “Rejected Addresses,” 1815. William Godwin, the author of a Life of Chaucer; “Fleetwood;” “Caleb Williams,” “St. Leon,” and other works, was a well known character in the literary world in the beginning of the present century. He married Mary Wollstonecraft, and their daughter, the authoress of _Frankenstein_, became the wife of Shelley the poet. William Godwin died in 1836, aged 81. There is a short sketch of his career in “The Maclise Portrait Gallery.” ――――:o:―――― THE NEWS-PAPER; or, READY-MADE IDEAS. I sing not of a tale of woe That happ’d some ninety years ago: I urge a theme that all must _know_―― The Paper. At morn, when tea and toast appear, And to the table all draw near, What gives a zest to welcome cheer? The Paper. In vain the urn is hissing hot, In vain rich Hyson stores the pot, If the vile newsman has forgot The Paper. What is’t can draw the Vicar’s eye, Ee’n from the tithe-pig smoking by, To mark some vacant Rectory? The Paper. What is’t attracts the optic pow’rs Of Ensign gay, when fortune show’rs Down prospects of “a step” in “ours”? The Paper. Who is’t can make the man of law, Neglect the deed or plea to draw―― Ca. Sa.――Fi. Fa.――Indictment, Flaw? The Paper. What is’t can soothe his client’s woe, And make him quite forget John Doe, Nor think on _Mister_ Richard Roe? The Paper. What is’t absorbs the wealthy Cit, The half-pay Sub, the fool, the wit, The toothless Aunt, the forward Chit―― The Paper. What is’t informs the country round, What’s stol’n or stray’d, what’s lost or found, Who’s born, and who’s put under ground? The Paper. What tells you all that’s done and said, The fall of beer, the rise of bread, And what fair lady’s brought to bed? The Paper. What is it tells of plays and balls, Almack’s, and gas lights, and St. Paul’s, And gamblers caught by Mr. Halls? The Paper. What is’t narrates full many a story, Of Mr. Speaker, Whig, and Tory, And heroes all agog for glory? The Paper.