convicted before this court of oyer, terminer, and lex non scripta, by the persecuting pettifogger of this court, who is as much exterior to me as I am interior to the judge, and you, gentlemen of the jury.

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4. This Borax of the law here, has brought witnesses into this court, who swear that my client stole a firkin of butter. Now, I say, every one of them swore to a lie, and the truth is concentrated within them. But if it is so, I justify the act on the ground that the butter was necessary for a public good, to tune his family into harmonious discord. But I take other mountainous and absquatulated grounds on this trial, and move that a quash be laid upon this indictment.

5. Now, I will prove this by a learned expectoration of the principle of the law. Now butter is made of grass, and it is laid down by St. Peter Pinder, in his principle of subterraneous law, that grass is conchant and levant, which in our obicular tongue means that grass is of a mild and free nature; consequently, my client had a right to grass and butter both.

6. To prove my second great principle, "let facts be submit. ted to a candid world." Now butter is grease, and Greece is a foreign country, situated in the emaciated regions of Liberia and California; consequently my client cannot be tried in this horizon, and is out of the benediction of this court. I will now bring forward the ultimatum respondentia, and cap the great climax of logic, by quoting an inconceivable principle of law, as laid down in Latin, by Pothier, Hudibras, Blackstone, Hannibal, and Sangrado. It is thus: Haec hoc morus multicaulis, amensa at thoro, ruta baga centum. Which means in English, that ninety-nine men are guilty where one is innocent.

7. Now, it is your duty to convict ninety-nine men first; then you come to my client, who is innocent and acquitted according to law. If these great principles shall be duly depreciated in this court, then the great north pole of liberty, that has stood so many years in pneumatic tallness, shading the republican re

gions of commerce and agriculture, will stand the wreck of the Spanish inquisition, the pirates of the hyperborean seas, and the marauders of the Aurora Bolivar! But, gentlemen of the jury, if you convict my client, his children will be doomed to pine away in a state of hopeless matrimony; and his beautiful wife will stand lone and delighted, like a dried up mullain. stalk in a sheep-pasture.

LESSON V.

PHAETHON, OR THE AMATEUR COACHMAN.

JOHN G. SAXE.

1. DAN Phaethon,—so the histories run,—
Was a jolly young chap, and a son of the Sun;
Or rather of Phoebus,-but as to his mother,
Genealogists make a deuce of a pother,
Some going for one, and some for another!
For myself, I must say as a careful explorer,
This roaring young blade was the son of Aurora.
2. Now old Father Phoebus, ere railways begun
To elevate funds and depreciate fun,

Drove a very fast coach by the name of "The Sun;"
Running, they say,

Trips every day,

(On Sundays and all, in a heathenish way,)

All lighted up with a famous array

Of lanterns that shone with a brilliant display,
And dashing along like a gentleman's "shay,"
With never a fare, and nothing to pay !
Now Phaethon begged of his doting old father,
To grant him a favor, and this the rather,

Since some one had hinted, the youth to annoy, That he wasn't by any means Phoebus's boy! Intending, the rascally son of a gun,

To darken the brow of the son of the Sun!

3. "By the terrible Styx!" said the angry sire, While his eye flashed volumes of fury and fire, "To prove your reviler an infamous liar,

I swear I will grant you whate'er you desire!" "Then by my head,"

The youngster said,

"I'll mount the coach when the horses are fed!-
For there's nothing I'd choose, as I'm alive,
Like a seat on the box, and a dashing drive!"
"Nay Phaethon don't-

I beg you won't,—

Just stop a moment and think upon't!

4. "You're quite too young," continued the sage, “To tend a coach at your early age!

Besides, you see,

'Twill really be

Your first appearance on any stage!

Desist, my child,

The cattle are wild,

And when their mettle is thoroughly 'riled,'
Depend upon't, the coach will be 'spiled '-
They're not the fellows to draw it mild!
Desist, I say,

You'll rue the day,—

So mind and don't be foolish, Pha!"

But the youth was proud,

And swore aloud,

"Twas just the thing to astonish the crowd,

He'd have the horses and wouldn't be cowed!

5. In vain the boy was cautioned at large,
He called for the chargers, unheeding the charge,
And vowed that any young fellow of force,
Could manage a dozen coursers, of course!
Now Phoebus felt exceedingly sorry

He had given his word in such a hurry,
But having sworn by the Styx, no doubt
He was in for it now, and could'nt back out.

6. So calling Phaethon up in a trice,
He gave the youth a bit of advice:—

“Parce stimulis, utere loris?”

(A "stage direction," of which the core is,
Don't use the whip,—they're ticklish things—
But, whatever you do, hold on to the strings!)
Remember the rule of the Jehu tribe is,
"Medio tutissimus ibis,”

As the judge remarked to a rowdy Scotchman,
(Who was going to quod between two watchmen!)
So mind your eye and spare your goad,

Be shy of the stones, and keep in the road!

7. Now Phaethon, perched in the coachman's place, Drove off the steeds at a furious pace,

Fast as coursers running a race,
Or bounding along in a steeple chase!
Of whip and shout there was no lack,
"Crack-whack-

Whack-crack,"

Resounding along the horses' back!-
Frightened beneath the stinging lash,
Cutting their flanks in many a gash.

8. On-on they sped as swift as a flash,
Through thick and thin away they dash,

(Such rapid driving is always rash!)
When all at once, with a dreadful crash,
The whole establishment went to smash!
And Phaethon, he,

As all agree,

Off the coach was suddenly hurled,

Into a puddle, and out of the world!

MORAL.

9. Don't rashly take to dangerous courses,— Nor set it down in your table of forces, That any one man equals any four horses! Don't swear by the Styx!

It's one of Old Nick's

Diabolical tricks

To get people into a regular "fix,"

And hold 'em there as fast as bricks!

LESSON VI.

HODGE AND THE VICAR.

ANONYMOUS.

1. HODGE, a poor, honest, lazy lout, ·
Not over-stocked with learning,
Chanced, on a summer's eve, to meet,
The vicar home returning.

2. "Ah! master Hodge," the vicar cried,
"What, still as wise as ever?

The people in the village say
That you are wondrous clever."

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