Sir Thomas Beaver and Major Money have commenced Literary hostilities, through the medium of the Norwich Mercury; their ammunition is of inflammable materials—more, however, of brimstone than of salt, and charcoal in great abundance.
As this Paper has traced every incident respecting Lord George Gordon for several months past, it takes the liberty of announcing his Lordship’s return to St. George’s Fields early in the ensuing term.
Lord George Gordon is preparing to beard Mr. Attorney General on the question of bail; and Mr. Attorney on his part is preparing a cutting argument for trimming Lord George, but though his Lordship has been so long in the suds, it is not thought that shaving will take place till the day of Judgement.
The paragraph which appeared in a certain respectable Morning Print, relative to the discharge of a person from St. James’s, for having paid a grateful attention to Lord George in his distresses is, however, not true; indeed, the report was too ungracious to be so.
O Quackery! where wilt thou end? O Physic, when are thy disgraces to terminate? There are at this time a practitioner in town, who says to his patients—“Use my wegetable, follow my regiment, and never fear it will radicate all your pectril complaints.” Such a character should not escape the animadversion of The Times; but of this here Doctor more anon—when The Times have leisure.
Yesterday the Purser of the Dutton, Captain Hunt, for Bombay and China, received his final dispatches from the India House.
It is really surprising that Bedford Street, one of the great leading avenues to the Strand, should continue to remain in so confined a state towards the bottom; it resembles a great bottle with a small neck; there is not literally at its entrance from the Strand room for two coaches to go abreast, yet forty yards higher it is roomy and spacious. If the houses which form so great a bulk on the right hand, where Cater the Pawnbroker now lives, were thrown down, and an elegant range of new buildings to match the opposite corner, where Mess. Humble and Henderson’s upholstery warehouse is, it would certainly be equally commodious with either Catherine or Southampton Street.
During the late memorable contest between Johnson and Ryan, in the last set to Ryan trod upon Johnstone’s great toe, and by the violence of the struggle lacerated the nail wholly from it. Johnstone was at this instant observed to turn pale. When they were disengaged Johnstone was so much irritated, that making a blow at Ryan, whom he missed, he struck one of the uprights of the stage, which shook it in an incredible manner, the next blow that Johnstone made was aimed at the chest, in which he succeeded, and this terminated the contest. Johnstone then asked Ryan if he had enough; to which he replied, “I’ve had enough these six minutes, but to oblige my friends, I have stood up.” Johnson’s hand was much bruised and black for some time after by the blow against the upright, and we hear he has not yet recovered of the hurt which his toe received in the encounter.
The spirit with which the Lord Mayor threatens the pack of Bullock Drivers in amongst the first fruits of his administration, which promise it to be, as we hope it will prove, an administration of effect. As for our part, we cannot be convinced that the power of the magistracy in the metropolis and its suburbs is not equal to the correction of the numerous disgraceful abuses which infect its jurisdiction.
A tradesman of St Alban’s being asked why the King, after his fatigue on Saturday, quitted the town with so much precipitation, replied with some humour, “because his Majesty had no inclination to dine with Duke Humphrey.”