JOHN MAGEE, formerly the printer of the _Dublin Evening Post_, was full of shrewdness and eccentricity. Several prosecutions were instituted against him by the government, and many "keen encounters of the tongue" took place on these occasions between him and John Scott, Lord Clonmel, who was at that period Chief Justice of the King's Bench. In addressing the Court in his own defence, Magee had occasion to allude to some public character, who was better known by a familiar designation. The official gravity of Clonmel was disturbed; and he, with bilious asperity, reproved the printer, by saying, "Mr. Magee, we allow no nicknames in this court,"---"Very well, _John Scott_," was the reply. MCCXXIV.--A CALCULATION. AFTER the death of the poet Chatterton, there was found among his papers, indorsed on a letter intended for publication, addressed to Beckford, then Lord Mayor, dated May 26, 1770, the following memorandum: "Accepted by Bingley, set for, and thrown out of, the _North Briton_, 21st June, on account of the Lord Mayor's death:-- Lost by his death on this essay L 1 11 6 Gained in elegies 2 2 0 Gained in essays 3 3 0 Am glad he is dead by 3 13 6." Yet the evident heartlessness of this calculation has been ingeniously vindicated by Southey, in the _Quarterly Review_. MCCXXV.--ON THE PRICE OF ADMISSION TO SEE THE MAMMOTH HORSE. I WOULD not pay a coin to see An animal much larger; Surely the mammoth horse must be Rather an _overcharger_. MCCXXVI.--NOTHING BUT HEBREW. A CANTAB chanced to enter a strange church, and after he had been seated some little time, another person was ushered into the same pew with him. The stranger pulled out of his pocket a prayer-book, and offered to share it with the Cantab, though he perceived he had one in his hand. This courtesy proceeded from a mere ostentatious display of his learning, as it proved to be in _Latin_. The Cantab immediately declined the offer by saying, "Sir, I read nothing but _Hebrew_!" MCCXXVII.--A GOOD RECOMMENDATION. WHEN Captain Grose, who was very fat, first went over to Ireland, he one evening strolled into the principal meat market of Dublin, where the butchers, as usual, set up their usual cry of "What d'ye buy? What d'ye buy?" Grose parried this for some time by saying he did not want anything. At last, a butcher starts from his stall, and eyeing Grose's figure, exclaimed, "Only _say_ you buy your meat of me, sir, and you will make my fortune." MCCXXVIII.--QUID PRO QUO. AN Irish lawyer, famed for cross-examining, was, on one occasion, completely silenced by a horse-dealer. "Pray, Mr. ----, you belong to a very honest profession?"--"I can't say so," replied the witness; "for, saving you _lawyers_, I think it the _most dishonest going_." MCCXXIX.--SERVANTS.