THE misfortune is, Sir Timothy ranks among those unhappy gentlemen who are continually worrying themselves about the triumphs of the French, and the manœuvres of Party at home. If the former happen to be defeated, he draws plans for confining a certain Gentleman within an iron cage; or, if he happen to conquer, he anticipates the subjugation of the world. When the surrender of Dantzic reached him, he expressed his surprise and chagrin that the Stocks had not fallen more than two per cent and when he was made acquainted with the news of our late disaster in Egypt, he uttered a deep groan, declaring that there was an end of British valour by land! Our ships, according to Sir Timothy's calculations, should be at all quarters of the world in all seasons; and though he acknowledges that the Atlantic is somewhat wider than Salisbury plain, he is quite astonished that every motion of the enemy's navy should not be seen and counteracted by

our own.

SIR TIMOTHY keeps a curious regis ter, in which are pasted (cut out from newspapers and journals) the captures of the French and the English; the loss both parties sustain in each battle, and the exact returns of Members of Parliament.. But, Sir, you are looking for the Journal-and here it is.

Sunday, June 7. Went to church-Sir Timothy thoughtful during the sermon -on going out, expressed his fears of the consequences of the surrender of Dantzic. After dinner, drank a glass and half Duckworth,' and Constantinople,' alternately uttered by the Knight, as he dosed in his chair.

Monday, June 8. A blight in the air. Sir Timothy fearful of the apple season, in Devonshire and Herefordshire (where he holds estates). Much grumbling against an English climate and French wines. Letter from Devonshire-apples looking well-good prospect of payment of rent--an extra glass after dinner

"Benningsen' toasted in a bumper, in which the Miss Zouches are compelled to join-' Bonaparte in the Tower!' three times three! much laughing, with a violent fit of coughing-rather gloomy as the evening came on. The King of Holland a jackanapes for sending Commissioners to buy pictures at Christie's.

6

Tuesday, June 9. No hopes of Europe. Sweden gulled, Russia blinded, and Prussia mad. The Archduke Charles stupified-our troops asleep. No speaking to Sir Timothy in this mood-waited till after dinner, when Church and King' being given in an overflowing bumper, restored every thing to proper order. No land like England-and no end to the rain-what is to become of the corn? A dearth, dearness, mutiny, and general insurrection. Monopolizers the pest of the country.

Wednesday, June 10. Prospects of a peace held forth by the papers-England undone, in consequence. Visible

decay in trade, and general corruption in manners-dinners at 7-ladies always dressed in lace, and gentlemen stubbornly continuing to leave off powder-nothing like days of yore: the cocked hat and clubbed queue of the good old Duke of Cumberland-the victory of Culloden more brilliant than that of Maida. Barometer falling, and more rain. Sir Timothy in one continued state of alarm.

Thursday, June 11. The Miss Zouches gone to Ramsgate for the season. Sir Timothy fearful of a division in the house. Good news from Herefordshire-apples looking well. An armistice dreaded: Talleyrand too deep for Alexander. Volunteers again in motion.

'He would be a soldier, would sweet Willy * ho!"

THE preceding, Mr. Director, is but a faint description of the artificial misery which this worthy Knight is continually creating for himself and those around him. Hoping the present communication

Sir Timothy's gardener.

may operate as a warning to all those who are disposed to tread in the footsteps of Sir Timothy Zouche,

I am, Sir,

Your obedient humble Servant,

THEOPHILUS.

THEOPHILUS has my best thanks for the lively portraiture he has drawn of this singular old Knight. There cannot be, methinks, a more dreadful pest within any walls than that which arises from the acrimony of a gloomy mind, constantly brooding over scenes of calamity and dismay. Life has enough of real misery and of positive ills, without adding to them by the artificial ones of a distempered brain. I have too good an opinion of my own country to suppose that a universal dejection is to be the consequence of a partial defeat: nor can I be led to think, that, because one potentate has fallen prostrate to be trod upon, any thing like BRITISH VALOUR Would stoop