——Right little grieve I To take my leave of all the tribe of Levi! I care not now whom I may chance to meet In Chancery Lane or Carey Street; Gentile or Jew, or neither, or what not, The bailiff's occupation's gone to pot, And all their sport, thank common sense, is over; Unless you find a man to swear, That he heard another man declare, That as he was walking the streets one day, He met with Jones, who was heard to say, That Smith intended to run away, Across the straits of Dover. But, any way, it does seem rather funny To lock a man within four walls, and bid him seek for money. There's no occasion now for me to hide, Tho' once I was a deeply versed _court guide_; I fear not now a single rap, Nor startle at a tap. From my boot's sole to my hat crown, I'll have it all set down; As to my tailleur, his suit's a failure, And talking of a writ, quite a mis-fit; So, spite his measures, I'll take my pleasures; And, since for debt I need not run away, Shall I, like vulgar traders, stoop to pay? Nay! 10. Dividends due. [Illustration: A _Prescription_. ] Philosophers sagely declare, Without reservation or stealth, That the source of true happiness here Is an equal division of wealth. 20. Battle of Navarino, 1827. OCTOBER.—MARS AND VENUS IN OPPOSITION.