case of a man being locked up for the night in a watch-house, "on suspicion of ringing a bell"—and brings to light a most outrageous abuse of petty power. In another case, a gang of robbers pursued by one set of watchmen, were suffered to escape by another set, who would not stir a foot beyond their own boundary line! Neither Shakspeare, Fielding, nor Sheridan have given us a better standing jest than this incident affords. It reminds us of the fellow who refused to take off Tom Ashe's coat, because it was felony to strip an ash; or the tanner who would not help the exciseman out of his pit without twelve hours' notice.

The Births, Marriages, and Deaths—and the Markets, and Price of Stocks, in small type, which well bespeaks their crowded interest, wind up the sheet. Yet what thrilling sensations does this small portion of our sheet often impart. What hopes and expectations for heirs and legacy hunters—people who want the "quotation" of Mark Lane and the Coal Market—and others whose daily tone and temper depends on the little cramped fractions in the "Stocks" and "Funds." Another catches a fine frenzy from the "Shares," and regulates his day's movements "the very air o' the time" by their import—and hence he dreams of gold and gossamer, or sits torturing his imagination with writs and executions that await adverse fortune.

Such are but a few of the pleasures and pains of a newspaper. Shenstone says the first part which an ill-natured man examines, is the list of bankrupts, and the bills of mortality; but, to prove that our object is any thing but ill-natured, we have glanced last at the Deaths. The paper over which we have been travelling, wants the Gazette and Parliamentary News, and a Literary feature. The Debates would have enabled us to illustrate the rapid marches of science and intellect in our times, as displayed in the present perfect system of parliamentary reporting. But enough has been said on other points to prove that the physiognomy of a newspaper is a subject of intense interest. In this slight sketch we have neither magnified the crimes, nor sported with the weaknesses; all our aim has been to search out points or pivots upon which the reflective reader may turn; the result will depend on his own frame of mind.

There is, however, one little paragraph, one pearl appended to the Police Report which we must detach, viz. the acknowledgment of £2. sent to the Bow Street office poor-box, the seventh contribution of the same amount of a benevolent individual (by the handwriting, a lady) signed "A friend to the unfortunate."

Read this ye who gloat over ill-gotten wealth, or abuse good fortune; think of the delights of this divine benefactress—silent and unknown—but, above all, of the exceeding great reward laid up for her in heaven.

PHILO.

CAT AND FIDDLE.

(To the Editor of the Mirror.)

Your correspondent, double X has furnished us with a well written and whimsical derivation of the above ale-house sign, and partly by Roman patriotism and French "lingo," he traces it up to "l'hostelle du Caton fidelle." But I presume the article is throughout intended for pure banter—as I do not consider your facetious friend seriously meant that "no two objects in the world have less to do with each other than a cat and violin."

How close the connexion is between fiddle and cat-gut, seems pretty well evident—for a proof, I therefore refer double X to any cat-gut scraper in his majesty's dominions, from the theatres royal, to Mistress Morgan's two-penny hop at Greenwich Fair.

JACOBUS.

THE ROUE'S INTERPRETATION OF DEATH.

(For the Mirror.)

"Death! who would think that five simple letters, would produce a word with so much terror in it."—The Rou.

M.L.B.

TO JUDY.

(For the Mirror.)