From the picture, which rejoices in this comforting quotation, we judge the unfortunate invalid, introduced by the artist as the principal figure in this humorous plate, is in a bad case; his suffering face expresses all the forlorn terrors of his extreme situation, which seems tolerably hopeless, since he is attended by no less than ten learned practitioners, and a sick-nurse; it is hard if among them they cannot settle their patient's condition. The ten are by no means troubling themselves about their client all at once: it is sufficient that a brace of the brethren are feeling each a pulse, which operation does not seem to afford them much enlightenment, since one is consulting his chronometer, and the other is seeking inspiration from the head of his gold-topped stick. Their colleagues are more agreeably engaged in fortifying themselves for their arduous professional duties by attending manfully to the refreshment department. The gouty patient has evidently been a man of substance; over his mantel hangs a map of 'Rotten Boroughs,--Camelford, Devon, &c.' _May 21, 1808._ _Volunteer Wit, or not Enough for a Prime._ Woodward del., Rowlandson sculp. Published by T. Tegg (227).--A party of Volunteer officers are gathered round the mahogany of their entertainer, who, it seems, is a notorious screw; the host is offering to fill the wine-glasses of the mess, but the dimensions of the glasses are somewhat miniature for bumper toasts. A challenge is given from the chair: 'Come, gentlemen-volunteers, to the right and left--Charge if you please to the King!' The vice-chair is winning the sympathies of the rest, and extracting a grin all round, by standing up, spectacles on nose, and responding: 'I should be very happy to obey your orders, Colonel, but really your glasses are so small, that, dash me if there's enough for a prime!' The Colonel's miserly disposition is hinted by the various papers thrown about, on the 'Current prices of Port wine,' and such maxims as 'A penny saved is twopence got'; with a statement pinned to the wall, 'How to get rich,' 'Pinch, squeeze, gripe, snatch, &c.' 1808 (?). _The Anatomy of Melancholy._ ''Tis a misery to be born, a pain to live, a trouble to die.'--A mixed scene of suffering and indifference. Propped up in a pillowed arm-chair, before the fire, is a melancholy invalid, old, decrepit, and ill-favoured. By his side is a list of 'Remedies against discontents,' 'Cure of jealousy,' &c.; on the mantel is an array of doctor's bottles, and a hatchment,--_groans, griefs, sadness_,--forms a cheerful adornment for the chimneypiece.