His horse, who never in that sort

Had handled been before,
What thing upon his back had got
Did wonder more and more.

Away went Gilpin, neck or naught;
Away went hat and wig;

He little dreamt, when he set out,
Of running such a rig.

The wind did blow, the cloak did fly,
Like streamer long and gay,
Till, loop and button falling both,
At last it flew away.

Then might all people well discern
The bottles he had slung;

A bottle swinging at each side,
As hath been said or sung.

The dogs did bark, the children screamed,

Up flew the windows all;

And every soul cried out, "Well done!" As loud as he could bawl.

Away went Gilpin - who but he? His fame soon spread around; "He carries weight!" "He rides a race!" ""Tis for a thousand pound!"

And still as fast as he drew near,
'Twas wonderful to view,
How in a trice the turnpike men
Their gates wide open threw.

And now, as he went bowing down
His reeking head full low,
The bottles twain behind his back
Were shattered at a blow.

Down ran the wine into the road,

Most piteous to be seen,

Which made his horse's flanks to smoke

As they had basted been.

But still he seemed to carry weight,

With leathern girdle braced; For all might see the bottle necks Still dangling at his waist.

Thus all through merry Islington,
These gambols he did play,
Until he came unto the Wash
Of Edmonton so gay;

And here he threw the Wash about,
On both sides of the way,
Just like unto a trundling mop,
Or a wild goose at play.

At Edmonton, his loving wife
From the balcony spied

Her tender husband, wondering much

To see how he did ride.

"Stop, stop, John Gilpin! Here's the house!"

They all at once did cry;

"The dinner waits, and we are tired: "

Said Gilpin- "So am I!”

But yet his horse was not a whit
Inclined to tarry there;

For why? - his owner had a house
Full ten miles off, at Ware.

So like an arrow swift he flew
Shot by an archer strong;

So did he fly - which brings me to
The middle of my song.

Away went Gilpin, out of breath,
And sore against his will,
Till, at his friend the calender's,
His horse at last stood still.

The calender, amazed to see

His neighbor in such trim,
Laid down his pipe, flew to the gate,
And thus accosted him :-

"What news? what news? your tidings tell,

Tell me you must and shall-
Say why bareheaded you are come,

Or why you come at all?"

Whence straight he came with hat and wig

A wig that flowed behind,

A hat not much the worse for wear,
Each comely in its kind.

He held them up, and in his turn,
Thus showed his ready wit:
"My head is twice as big as yours,
They therefore needs must fit.

"But let me scrape the dirt away
That hangs upon your face;
And stop and eat, for well you may
Be in a hungry case."

Said John," It is my wedding day,
And all the world would stare,
If wife should dine at Edmonton,
And I should dine at Ware."

So turning to his horse, he said, "I am in haste to dine;

"Twas for your pleasure you came here,

You shall go back for mine."

Ah! luckless speech, and bootless boast,
For which he paid full dear:

For while he spake, a braying ass

Did sing most loud and clear;

Whereat his horse did snort, as he
Had heard a lion roar,

And galloped off with all his might,
As he had done before.

Away went Gilpin, and away
Went Gilpin's hat and wig:
He lost them sooner than at first,
For why?—they were too big.

Now Mistress Gilpin, when she saw
Her husband posting down

Into the country far away,

She pulled out half a crown;

And thus unto the youth she said,

That drove them to the Bell,

"This shall be yours, when you bring back

My husband safe and well."

The youth did ride, and soon did meet
John coming back amain;

Whom in a trice he tried to stop
By catching at his rein;

But not performing what he meant,
And gladly would have done,
The frighted steed he frighted more
And made him faster run.

Away went Gilpin, and away

Went postboy at his heels,

The postboy's horse right glad to miss
The lumbering of the wheels.

Six gentlemen upon the road,

Thus seeing Gilpin fly,

With postboy scampering in the rear,

They raised the hue and cry:—

"Stop thief! stop thief!- a highwayman!"

Not one of them was mute;

And all and each that passed that way

Did join in the pursuit.

And now the turnpike gates again

Flew open in short space;

The tollmen thinking as before,

That Gilpin rode a race.

And so he did, and won it too,
For he got first to town;

Nor stopped till where he had got up

He did again get down.

Now let us sing Long live the King,

And Gilpin, long live he;

And when he next doth ride abroad,
May I be there to see!

MISCHIEFS OF THE ANTI-USURIOUS LAWS.

BY JEREMY BENTHAM.

(From the "Defence of Usury.")

[JEREMY BENTHAM, a great English jurist and social philosopher, was born at London in 1748; graduated from Queen's College, Oxford; was called to the bar, but gave up practice for literature, inheriting a fortune in 1792 which enabled him to work independently. His working out of utilitarianism has had enormous influence on all later speculation and much practical legislation. He wrote, among other things, "Fragment on Government" (1776), "Defence of Usury" (1786), "Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation (1789), “Rationale of Judicial Evidence" (1827), “The Constitutional Code" (1830).]

IN THE preceding letters, I have examined all the modes I can think of, in which the restraints imposed by the laws against usury can have been fancied to be of service.

I hope it appears by this time, that there are no ways in which those laws can do any good. But there are several, in which they cannot but do mischief.

The first I shall mention, is that of precluding so many people altogether from the getting the money they stand in need of, to answer their respective exigencies. Think what a distress it would produce, were the liberty of borrowing denied to everybody; denied to those who have such security to offer,