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tuneful voice reminding his hearers of the fascination of that magic 

 Jiute we read of in an Arabian tale : 



" As sweet and musiral 

 As bright Apollo's lute strung with his hair;" 



or, as Paganini's fiddle, of which it was said by one who, having been 

 ravished by its performance, and was, subsequently permitted to handle 

 the instrument of the great Maestro, that, " though silent, it was still 

 eloquent of music and delight;" a pretty idea, indeed, neatly expressed, 

 and very suggestive, now that the good old poet Rogers is no more, of 

 " The Pleasures of Memory.'''' 



Who that has once seen him, is likely to forget the eccentric but 



highly esteemed by all who know him, ? A rough exterior may 



be his, but it covers a very worthy soul, like a rusty chest that conceals 

 some rich treasure within. Who that has once caught a glimpse of 

 him in the street, but immediately concludes, that some one happening 

 to see him flourishing in the country, 



" Recubans sub tegmine fagi," 



must have contrived just to take hitn up by the roots, like a vigorous 

 old oak, with all its branches about it, untrimmed, and transplanted him 

 in the city — rus in urbe — full of mettle, and 



" As merry as good Master Silence ?" 



as Shakspeare describes that grotesque character sometimes to be 



" In the sweet of the night." 



Who is there that does not appreciate the social qualities of P 



P , whose wit, not of the ambitious kind, consists in easy 'scapes and 



sallies, as Johnson says, the most pleasing of all qualities for a convivial 

 party ; for it never fails to make sport, and excites no envy'^ And who 



does not think with much respect of W ? Like many others, with 



whom we climbed the hill together, he, alas ! is also in his grave 

 now; but the earth cannot shut out the recollection of the many excel- 

 lent qualifications that constituted him a welcome companion with 

 many. What more scientific disciple of Bob Short, or Mathews, was 

 there in genteel society? Who could sip a glass of '' that which maketh 

 the heart glad," and more immediately display a second miracle — not 

 water changed into wine, but mne into the milk of human kindness? 



