The Rev. Wm. Davy, a Devonshire curate, in the year 1795, begun a most desperate undertaking, viz: that of himself printing twenty-six volumes of sermons, which he actually did, working off page by page, for fourteen copies, and continued the almost hopeless task for twelve years, in the midst of poverty. Such wonderful perseverance almost amounts to a ruling passion. _Alliterative Whims._ Mrs. Crawford says she wrote one line in her song, "Kathleen Mavourneen," for the express purpose of confounding the cockney warblers, who sing it thus— "The 'orn of the 'unter is 'eard on the 'ill." Moore has laid the same trap in the _Woodpecker_— "A 'eart that is 'umble might 'ope for it 'ere." And the elephant confounds them the other way— "A helephant heasily heats at his hease, Hunder humbrageous humbrella trees." _Alliterations carried to Absurd Excess._ In the early part of the seventeenth century the fashion of hunting after alliterations was carried to an absurd excess. Even from the pulpit the chosen people were addressed as "the _c_hickens of the _c_hurch, the _s_parrows of the _s_pirit, and the _s_weet _s_wallows of _s_alvation." "Ane New-Year Gift," or address, presented to Mary Queen of Scots by the poet Alexander Scot, concludes with a stanza running thus— "Fresh, fulgent, flourist, fragrant flower formose, Lantern to love, of ladies lamp and lot, Cherry maist chaste, chief, carbuncle and chose, &c." _Vacillating Newspapers._ The newspapers of Paris, under censorship of the press, in 1815, announced in the following manner Bonaparte's departure from the Isle of Elba, his march across France and his entrance into the French Capital:— "9th March.—The Cannibal has escaped from his den. 10th.—The Corsican Ogre has just landed at Cape Juan. 11th.—The Tiger has arrived at Gap. 12th.—The Monster has passed the night at Grenoble. 13th.—The Tyrant has crossed Lyons. 14th.—The Usurper is directing his course toward Dijon, but the brave and loyal Burgundians have risen in a body and they surround him on all sides. 18th.—Bonaparte is sixty leagues from the Capital; he has had skill enough to escape from the hands of his pursuers. 19th.—Bonaparte advances rapidly, but he will never enter Paris. 20th.—To-morrow _Napoleon_ will be under our ramparts. 21st.—The _Emperor_ is at Fontainebleau. 22d.—His _Imperial_ and _Royal Majesty_ last evening made his entrance into his Palace of the Tuileries, amidst the _joyous_ acclamations of an _adoring_ and _faithful people_." _Dr. Johnson's Blunders._ Considering that Doctor Johnson was himself a severe verbal critic, it might be expected that his own writings would be correct. But he wrote: "Every monumental inscription should be in Latin; for that being a _dead_ language it will always _live_." Another Johnsonian lapsus is palpable in the lines— "Nor yet perceived the vital spirit fled, But still fought on, _nor knew that he was dead_."