“If any real gentleman will oblige a _lady_ of character with _one hundred pounds_, for six months, on her own bond, the gentleman may have an advantage, which cannot be mentioned in a public newspaper; it is desired that none may apply who cannot command the sum immediately.--Please to direct a line to J. X. at Mr Tomb’s No. 72 Fetter Lane.” “If Mr ----, lately a Latin master at an academy in town, who has got a dozen and a half of shirts belonging to Mr Wh--e, does not call on his guardian in Coleman Street immediately, and give satisfaction for the said shirts, his name will be advertised with many other circumstances not to his advantage.--_Daily Advertiser_, Dec. 16.” “Mrs K---- (who was in one of the front boxes at the representation of the ‘Trip to Scotland’) was observed to blush four times behind her fan, occasioned, it is imagined, at the repetition of the words single and _double beds_; as it is said to be well known that in her elopement to Scotland only a _single bed_ was used going and returning.” The above are a few specimens of the flowers of wit, printed extensively at the time in many of the papers, culled from many volumes of the _Oxford Magazine_. At the end of Volume IX., however, there was found to be no further desire for them, and they were quietly dropped into the limbo of forgotten things. The columns thus relieved were filled with anecdotes and articles of a much less lively but more literary nature. The opening article in the first volume was a very serious essay, fully equipped with examples and quotations from the ancients, on the Power of the Passions. This was followed by a consideration as to whether genius is a natural gift or an effect of education. From the great similarity of style in the two articles, it is extremely probable that they were written by the same pen. The next ten columns were occupied by a _verbatim_ report of various speeches made in the Court of King’s Bench, and in certain London clubs. The Surgeon Dentist to His Majesty then contributed a flowing article on the disorders and deformities of the teeth and gums, in which mothers might find copious hints as to the teething of their infants. For the patrons of the Drama, unable to get up to London, there was “Some Account of the Statesman Foil’d, a Musical Comedy in Two Acts, composed by Mr Rush; and performed at the Theatre Royal in the Haymarket.” Even in those days it would seem that dramatic critics were of the settled opinion that their task was never to praise, but only to carp and pick holes, for, after giving a description of the play which read very amusingly and well, the critic concluded by saying that although “several of the songs are very prettily set, they are undoubtedly inferior to Mr Rush’s former compositions; and the dialogue not remarkable for sentiment or wit, is often extremely tiresome.”