PATIENCE.

Father Bernard.—His patience was such as no circumstances, however offensive, could subdue. One day he presented a petition in favour of an unfortunate person, to a nobleman in place; the latter being of a hasty temper, flew into a violent passion, said many injurious things of the person for whom the priest interested himself. Father Bernard, however, still persisted in his request; and the nobleman was at last so irritated, that he gave him a box on the ear. Bernard immediately fell at his feet, and presenting the other, said, "Give me a blow on this also, my lord, and grant me my petition." The nobleman was so affected by this humility, that he granted his request.

Philip, the second King of Spain, had once spent several hours of the night in writing a long letter to the Pope, and having finished it, gave it to his secretary to fold it up and seal it. The secretary was half asleep, and instead of shaking the sand-bottle over it in order to dry it, he emptied that which contained the ink by mistake, so that all the ink ran out upon the letter and completely spoiled it; perceiving the accident, he was ready to drop with confusion, upon which the King quietly said: "Well, give me another sheet of paper;" and then began to write the letter over again with great tranquillity.



POETS.

An Italian poet presented some verses to the Pope, who had not gone far before he met with a line too short in quantity, which he remarked upon. The poet submissively entreated his holiness to read on, and he would probably meet with a line that was a syllable too long, so that the account would soon be balanced!

A certain Italian having written a book on the Art of making gold, dedicated it to Pope Leo X., in hopes of a good reward. His holiness finding the man constantly followed him, at length gave him a large empty purse, saying, "Sir, since you know how to make gold, you can have no need of anything but a purse to put it in."



POLITENESS.

A Polite Mayor.—At the time when Queen Elizabeth was making one of her progresses through the kingdom, a mayor of Coventry, attended by a large cavalcade, went out to meet her Majesty, and usher her into the city with due formality. On their return they passed through a wide brook, when Mr. Mayor's horse several times attempted to drink, and each time his worship checked him; which the Queen observing, called out to him, "Mr. Mayor, let your horse drink, Mr. Mayor;" but the magistrate, bowing very low, modestly answered, "Nay, nay, may it please your Majesty's horse to drink first."

A French Mayor.—A mayor of a small village in France, having occasion to give a passport to a distinguished personage in his neighbourhood who was blind of one eye, was in great embarrassment on coming to the description of his person. Fearful of offending the great man, he adopted the following ingenious expedient of avoiding the mention of his deformity, and wrote "Black eyes—one of which is absent."

Sir Wm. Gooch being engaged in conversation with a gentleman in a street of the city of Williamsburgh, returned the salute of a negro, who was passing by about his master's business. "Sir William," said the gentleman, "do you descend so far as to salute a slave?"—"Why, yes," replied the governor; "I cannot suffer a man of his condition to exceed me in good manners."



PRESENCE OF MIND.

The Marquis St. Andre applied to Louvois, the war-minister of Louis XIV., for a place then vacant. Louvois having received some complaints against the marquis, refused to comply. The nobleman, somewhat nettled, said, rather hastily, "If I were to enter again into the service, I know what I would do."—"And pray what would you do?" inquired the minister in a furious tone. St. Andre recollected himself, and had the presence of mind to say, "I would take care to behave in such a manner, that your excellency should have nothing to reproach me with." Louvois, agreeably surprised at this reply, immediately granted his request.

Carving.—An accomplished gentleman, when carving a tough goose, had the misfortune to send it entirely out of the dish, and into the lap of the lady next to him; on which he very coolly looked her full in the face, and with admirable gravity and calmness, said, "Madam, may I trouble you for that goose." In a case like this, a person must, necessarily, suffer so much, and be such an object of compassion to the company, that the kindest thing he can do is to appear as unmoved as possible.

Lord Peterborough was once taken by the mob for the duke of Marlborough (who was then in disgrace with them), and being about to be roughly treated by these friends to summary justice, he told them, "Gentlemen, I can convince you, by two reasons, that I am not the duke of Marlborough. In the first place, I have only five guineas in my pocket; and, in the second, they are heartily at your service." So throwing his purse amongst them, he got out of their hands, with loud huzzas and acclamations.

Fouche.—Napoleon sent for Fouche one day, in a great rage, told him that he was a fool, and not fit to be at the head of the police, as he was quite ignorant of what was passing. "Pardon me, Sire," said Fouche; "I know that your Majesty has my dismissal ready signed in your pocket." Napoleon changed his mind, and kept his Minister.

Vendean Servant.—An unexampled instance of self-devotion and presence of mind was manifested by a maidservant, during the war in La Vendee. "The wife of Lepinai, a general in the Vendean army, was imprisoned at Nantes, and attended by a young girl, a native of Chatellerault, so faithfully attached to the service of her mistress that she had followed her to prison. One day the soldiers arrived to summon the prisoners who were destined to death: this faithful girl heard Madame Lepinai called, who had but an instant before retired to her chamber. Glad of the opportunity of saving the life of her beloved mistress, she presented herself, and answered to the name. The affectionate creature was instantly led away with the other prisoners, and precipitated among the waves of the Loire, in place of Madame Lepinai."

The Gendarmes and the Priest.—During the Revolution a priest took refuge in the house of a farmer. Some gendarmes having heard of it came one evening to the house. The whole family were gathered round the hearth, and among them was the priest, disguised as a servant. When the soldiers entered every one grew pale; they asked the farmer if there was not a priest concealed in the house. "Gentlemen," returned he, without losing his presence of mind, "you see very well there is no priest here; but one might conceal himself in the house without my knowledge; so I will not prevent you from doing your duty; search the house from cellar to garret." Then he said to the priest, "I say, Jacques, take your lantern and show these gentlemen everywhere; let them see every corner of the farm." The gendarmes made a minute inspection of the house, uttering many imprecations and many menaces against the priest, promising themselves to pay him well for the trouble he had cost them, if they succeeded in discovering him. Seeing their search was useless, they prepared to leave. As they were going the farmer said, "Pray gentlemen, remember the boy." They gave the disguised priest a small coin, and thanking him for his civility took their leave.

A housemaid in Upper Grosvenor Street, London, going to the cellar for a draught of ale, after the family had retired to bed, glided silently in without a candle. As she was feeling about for the cask, she put her hand upon something which she immediately perceived to be the head of a man. The girl, with great fortitude and presence of mind, forebore to cry out, but said, in a tone of impatience, "That stupid creature, Betty, is always putting the mops in the way." She then went on to the cask, quietly drew her beer, retired from the cellar, fastened the door, and then alarmed the house. The man was taken; and afterwards declared, that the maid was entirely indebted to her presence of mind for her life, for had she cried out, he would instantly have murdered her: but as he firmly believed she mistook his head for a mop, particularly as she had drawn the beer after she had felt it, he let her go without injury.

King James the Fourth of Scotland, who used often to amuse himself in wandering about the country in different disguises, was once overtaken by a violent storm in a dark night, and obliged to take shelter in a cavern near Wemys. Having advanced some way in it, the king discovered a number of men and women ready to begin to roast a sheep, by way of supper. From their appearance, he began to suspect that he had not fallen into the best of company; but, as it was too late to retreat, he asked hospitality from them till the tempest was over. They granted it, and invited the king, whom they did not know, to sit down, and take part with them. They were a band of robbers and cut-throats. As soon as they had finished their supper, one of them presented a plate, upon which two daggers were laid in form of a St. Andrew's cross, telling the king, at the same time, that this was the dessert which they always served to strangers; that he must choose one of the daggers, and fight him whom the company should appoint to attack him. The king did not lose his presence of mind, but instantly seized the two daggers, one in each hand, and plunged them into the hearts of the two robbers who were next him; and running full speed to the mouth of the cavern, he escaped from their pursuit, through the obscurity of the night. The rest of the band were seized next morning and hanged.

The Marquess del Campo.—When the attempt was made upon the life of George III., by Margaret Nicholson, who attempted to stab him as he was going to St. James's to hold a levee, a council was ordered to be held as soon as the levee was over. The Marquess del Campo, the Spanish ambassador, being apprised of that circumstance, and knowing that the council would detain the king in town three or four hours beyond the usual time, took post horses, and set off for Windsor. Alighting at the castle, he called upon a lady there with whom he was acquainted. The queen, finding that the king did not return at the usual time, and understanding that the marquess was in the palace, sent to ask him if he had been at the levee. He replied that he had, and that he had left his majesty in perfect health, going to council. When the king arrived, he, of course, told her majesty the extraordinary occurrence of the morning. The queen expressed great surprise that the Marquess del Campo, who had been nearly three hours in the palace, had not mentioned the subject to her; he was then sent for, when he told their majesties, that finding upon his arrival at the castle, that no rumour of the attempt upon the life of his majesty had reached the queen, he did not think it expedient to apprise her of it till his majesty's arrival gave full assurance of his safety; but, at the same time, fearing that some incorrect and alarming reports might be brought down, he deemed it right to remain in the palace, in order in that case, to be able to remove all apprehensions from her majesty's mind, by acquainting her with the real facts. The king, taking the ambassador graciously by the hand, complimented him on his presence of mind, and assured him, that he scarcely knew a man in the world to whom he was so much obliged.

Miss Bailly.—A few days before the battle of Falkirk, so disastrous to the English army, Lord Loudon made a bold attempt to seize the Pretender at Moy, a castle belonging to the chief of the clan of Mackintosh, about six miles from Inverness, where he was then staying, and where he conceived himself in perfect security. His lordship would probably have succeeded in this design, but for the singular courage and presence of mind of a young girl. While some English officers were drinking in the house of Mrs. Bailly, an innkeeper in Inverness, and passing the time till the hour of setting out for the intended capture, her daughter, a girl of about thirteen or fourteen years of age, who happened to wait on them, paid great attention to their conversation, and from certain expressions which they dropped she discovered their design. As soon as she could do so unobserved, she left the house, escaped from the town, notwithstanding the vigilance of the sentinels, and took the road to Moy, running as fast as she was able, without shoes or stockings, which to accelerate her progress she had taken off, in order to inform the Prince of the danger which menaced him. She reached Moy, quite out of breath, before Lord Loudon and his troops; and the Prince had just time to escape, in his robe-de-chambre, nightcap, and slippers, to the neighbouring mountains, where he passed the night in concealment. This girl, to whom the Prince owed his life, was in great danger of losing her own, from the excessive fatigue and excitement; but by care and attention she eventually recovered.

Servant at Noyon.—Some years ago, an instance of humanity and presence of mind occurred at a place called Noyon, in France, which well deserves to be commemorated. Four men, who were employed in cleansing a sewer, were so affected by the foetid vapours, that they were unable to ascend. The lateness of the hour (for it was eleven at night) rendered it difficult to procure assistance, and the delay must have been fatal, had not a young girl, a servant in the family, at the hazard of her own life, attempted their deliverance. This generous girl, who was only seventeen years of age, was, at her own request, let down several times to the poor men by a rope: she was so fortunate as to save two of them, but, in tying the third to the cord, which was let down to her for that purpose, she found her breath failing, and was so much affected by the vapour as to be in danger of suffocation. In this dreadful situation, she had the presence of mind to tie herself by her hair to the rope, and was drawn up almost expiring, with the poor man in whose behalf she had so humanely exerted herself. The corporation of the town of Noyon, as a small token of their approbation, presented the generous girl with six hundred livres, and conferred on her the civic crown, with a medal engraved with the arms of the town, her name, and a narrative of the action. The Duke of Orleans also sent her five hundred livres, and settled two hundred yearly on her for life.



PRIDE OF RANK AND ANCESTRY.

The anecdote is well known of the celebrated Dr. Busby keeping on his hat when visited by King Charles II., and apologizing for his apparent want of respect, by saying, that he should never be able to keep his scholars in subjection, if they thought that there was a greater man in the world than himself. The same feeling seems to have actuated the Gaelic chiefs, who were excessively proud of their rank and prerogatives. When the first Marquess of Huntly, then the chief of the clan Gordon, was presented at the court of James VI., he did not so much as incline his head before his sovereign. Being asked why he failed in this point of etiquette? he replied, that he had no intention whatever of showing any disrespect to his king, but that he came from a country where all the world were accustomed to bow down before him. A similar instance occurred with the head of another family. When George II. offered a patent of nobility to the chief of the Grants, the proud Celt refused it, saying, "Wha would then be Laird of Grant?"

James I. in his progress into England, was entertained at Lumley Castle, the seat of the Earl of Scarborough. A relation of the noble earl was very proud in showing and explaining to his majesty an immense genealogical chart of the family, the pedigree of which he carried back rather farther than the greatest strength of credulity would allow. "I gude faith, man," says the king, "it may be they are very true, but I did na ken before that Adam's name was Lumley."

An anecdote is told of a gentleman in Monmouthshire, which exhibits the pride of ancestry in a curious point of view. His house was in such a state of dilapidation that the proprietor was in danger of perishing under the ruins of the ancient mansion, which he venerated even in decay. A stranger, whom he accidentally met at the foot of the Skyrrid, made various enquiries respecting the country, the prospects, and the neighbouring houses, and, among others, asked—"Whose is this antique mansion before us?" "That, sir, is Werndee, a very ancient house; for out of it came the Earls of Pembroke of the first line, and the Earls of Pembroke of the second line; the Lord Herberts of Cherbury, the Herberts of Coldbrook, Ramsay, Cardiff, and York; the Morgans of Acton; the Earl of Hunsdon; the houses of Ircowm and Lanarth, and all the Powells. Out of this house also, by the female line, came the Duke of Beaufort." "And pray, sir, who lives there now?" "I do, sir." "Then pardon me, and accept a piece of advice; come out of it yourself, or you'll soon be buried in the ruins of it."

A curious anecdote is related respecting a contest for precedence, between the rival Welch Houses of Perthir and Werndee, which, though less bloody, was not less obstinate than that between the Houses of York and Lancaster. Mr. Proger, of Werndee, dining with a friend at Monmouth, proposed riding home in the evening; but his friend objecting because it was late and likely to rain, Mr. Proger replied, "With regard to the lateness of the hour, we shall have moonlight; and should it happen to rain, Perthir is not far from the road, and my cousin Powell will, I am sure, give us a night's lodging." They accordingly mounted their horses; but being soon overtaken by a violent shower, rode to Perthir, and found all the family retired to rest. Mr. Proger, however, calling to his cousin, Mr. Powell opened the window, and looking out, asked, "In the name of wonder, what means all this noise? Who is there?" "It is only I, your cousin Proger of Werndee, who am come to your hospitable door for shelter from the inclemency of the weather, and hope you will be so kind as to give my friend and me a lodging." "What! Is it you, cousin Proger? You and your friend shall be instantly admitted, but upon one condition, that you will allow, and never hereafter dispute, that I am the head of the family." "What did you say?" returned Mr. Proger. "Why, I say, if you expect to pass the night in my house, you must allow that I am the head of the family." "No, sir, I never will admit that; were it to rain swords and daggers, I would ride this night to Werndee, rather than lower the consequence of my family. Come up, Bold, come up." "Stop a moment, cousin Proger; have you not often confessed that the first Earl of Pembroke (of the name of Herbert) was the youngest son of Perthir; and will you set yourself above the Earls of Pembroke?" "True, I must give place to the Earl of Pembroke, because he is a peer of the realm; but still, though a peer, he is of the youngest branch of my family, being descended from the fourth son of Werndee, who was your ancestor, and settled at Perthir; whereas I am descended from the eldest son. Indeed, my cousin Jones of Lanarth is of an older branch than you, and yet he never disputes that I am the head of the family." "Why, cousin Proger, I have nothing more to say; so, good night to you." "Stop a moment, Mr. Powell," said the stranger, "you see how it pours; do admit me at least; I will not dispute with you about our families." "Pray, sir, what is your name, and where do you come from?" "My name is * * *, and I come from the county of * * *." "A Saxon of course; it would be very curious indeed, sir, should I dispute with a Saxon about families; no, sir, you must suffer for the obstinacy of your friend, and so a pleasant ride to you both."



PUNCTUALITY.

A Quarter of an Hour.—When Lord Nelson was leaving London, on his last, but glorious, expedition against the enemy, a quantity of cabin furniture was ordered to be sent on board his ship. He had a farewell dinner party at his house; and the upholsterer having waited upon his lordship, with an account of the completion of the goods, was brought into the dining-room, in a corner of which his lordship spoke with him. The upholsterer stated to his employer, that everything was finished, and packed, and would go in the wagon, from a certain inn, at six o'clock. "And you go to the inn, Mr. A., and see them off?" "I shall, my lord; I shall be there punctually at six." "A quarter before six, Mr. A.," returned Lord Nelson, "be there a quarter before six. To that quarter of an hour I owe everything in life."

Mr. Scott, of Exeter, travelled on business till about eighty years of age. He was one of the most celebrated characters in the kingdom for punctuality, and by his methodical conduct, joined to uniform diligence, he gradually amassed a fortune. For a long series of years, the proprietor of every inn he frequented in Devon and Cornwall knew the day, and the very hour, he would arrive. A short time before he died, a gentleman on a journey in Cornwall stopped at a small inn at Port Isaac to dine. The waiter presented him with a bill of fare, which he did not approve of; but observing a fine duck roasting, "I'll have that," said the traveller. "You cannot, sir," said the landlord; "it is for Mr. Scott of Exeter." "I know Mr. Scott very well," rejoined the gentlemen; "he is not in your house." "True, sir," said the landlord, "but six months ago, when he was here last, he ordered a duck to be ready for him this day, precisely at two o'clock;" and, to the astonishment of the traveller, he saw the old gentleman, on his Rosinante, jogging into the inn-yard about five minutes before the appointed time.

Sir W. Scott.—A gentleman who, in the year 1826, travelled with Sir Walter Scott in the coach from Edinburgh to Jedburgh, relates the following anecdote illustrative of his regard for punctuality, and his willingness to serve all who placed confidence in him, particularly those engaged in literary pursuits.—"We had performed half the journey," writes our informant, "when Sir Walter started as from a dream, exclaiming: 'Oh, my friend G——, I have forgotten you till this moment!' A short mile brought us to a small town, where Sir Walter ordered a post-chaise, in which he deposited his luggage, consisting of a well-worn short hazel stick, and a paper parcel containing a few books; then, much to my regret, he changed his route, and returned to the Scottish capital. The following month I was again in Edinburgh, and curiosity induced me to wait on the friend G—— apostrophised by Sir Walter, and whose friendship I had the honour to possess. The cause of Sir Walter's return, I was informed, was this:—He had engaged to furnish an article for a periodical conducted by my friend, but the promise had slipped from his memory—a most uncommon occurrence, for Sir Walter was gifted with the best of memories—until the moment of his exclamation. His instant return was the only means of retrieving the error. Retrieved, however, it was; and the following morning Mr. G—— received several sheets of closely-written manuscript, the transcribing of which alone must have occupied half the night."



ROBBERS.

Candid Robber.—The duke of Ossuna, viceroy of Naples, once visited the galleys, and passing through the prisoners, he asked several of them what their offences were. All of them excused themselves upon various pretences; one said he was put in out of malice, another by bribery of the judge; but all of them declared they were punished unjustly. The duke came at last to a little black man, whom he questioned as to what he was there for. "My lord," said he, "I cannot deny but I am justly put in here; for I wanted money, and my family was starving, so I robbed a passenger near Tarragona of his purse." The duke, on hearing this, gave him a blow on the shoulder with his stick, saying, "You rogue, what are you doing here among so many honest, innocent men? Get you out of their company." The poor fellow was then set at liberty, while the rest were left to tug at the oar.

Ingenious Contrivance.—Many years ago, when stagecoaches were not unfrequently attacked by highwaymen, a party was once travelling on a lonely road, when one of the gentlemen mentioned to the company that he had ten guineas with him, which he was afraid of losing. Upon this an elderly lady who sat next to him, advised him to take his money from his pocket, and slip it into his boot, which he did. Not long after the coach was attacked, when a highwayman rode up to the window, on the lady's side, and demanded her money; upon which she immediately whispered to him that if he would examine that gentleman's boot, he would find ten guineas. The man took the hint, and the gentleman was obliged to submit patiently; but when the robber had gone, he loaded his fellow-traveller with abuse, declaring her to be in confederacy with the highwayman. She replied that certainly appearances were against her; but if the company in the stage would sup at her house the following evening, she would explain a conduct which appeared so mysterious. After a debate among themselves, they consented to go the next evening according to her invitation. They were ushered into a magnificent room, where an elegant supper was served, after which, the lady taking a pocket-book from her pocket, showed that it contained various notes to the amount of several hundred pounds, and addressing herself to the gentleman who had been robbed: "I thought, sir," said she, "it was better to lose ten guineas, than all this valuable property, which I had about me last night; and I have now the pleasure of returning what you so kindly lent me."

Reclaimed Felons.—The late Dr. Lettsom says, "I have been so happy as to reform two highwaymen who had robbed me; and from this I think that few of our fellow-creatures are so hardened, as to be impenetrable to repentance. One of these men has since been twice in the Gazette promotions, as a military officer. The other married, and became a respectable farmer in Surrey."

A similar story is told by the celebrated Rowland Hill. He was attacked by a highwayman, whom he succeeded in convincing of the evil of his way of life, and who afterwards became a most faithful servant to him. The secret was never revealed by Mr. Hill until the death of the servant.



SAILORS.

The Wounded Sailor.—When Admiral Benbow was a common sailor, his messmate, who was stationed with him at the same gun, lost his leg by a cannon shot. The poor fellow instantly called out to his friend, who immediately took him up on his shoulder, and began with great care to descend with him into the cockpit; but it happened that just as the poor fellow's head came upon a level with the deck, another ball carried that off also. Benbow, however, knew nothing of the matter, but carried the body down to the surgeon, and when he came to the bottom of the ladder, called out that he had brought him a patient, desiring some one to bear a hand, and help him easily down. The surgeon turned about, but instead of giving any assistance, exclaimed, "You blockhead, what do you do here with a man that has lost his head?" "Lost his head!" says Benbow; "the lying fellow, why he told me it was his leg; but I never in my life believed what he said without being sorry for it afterwards."

When Lieutenant O'Brien (who was called Skyrocket Jack) was blown up at Spithead, in the Edgar, he was on the carriage of a gun, and when brought to the admiral, all black and wet, he said with pleasantry, "I hope, sir, you will excuse my dirty appearance, for I came out of the ship in so great a hurry, that I had not time to shift myself."

A painter was employed in painting a West India ship in the river, suspended on a stage under the ship's stern. The captain, who had just got into the boat alongside, for the purpose of going ashore, ordered the boy to let go the painter (the rope which makes fast the boat); the boy instantly went aft, and let go the rope by which the painter's stage was held. The captain, surprised at the boy's delay, cried out, "Heigh-ho, there, you lazy lubber, why don't you let go the painter?" The boy replied, "He's gone, sir, pots and all."

Precedence.—At a grand review of the fleet at Portsmouth by George III., in 1789, there was a boy who mounted the shrouds with so much agility, as to surprise every spectator. The king particularly noticed it, and said to Lord Lothian, "Lothian, I have heard much of your agility, let us see you run up after that boy." "Sire," replied Lord Lothian, "it is my duty to follow your majesty."

Admiral Haddock, when on his death-bed, called his son, and thus addressed him: "Considering my rank in life, and public services for so many years, I shall leave you but a small fortune; but, my boy, it is honestly got, and will wear well; there are no seamen's wages or provisions, nor one single penny of dirty money, in it."

An Odd Shot.—An English frigate was obliged to strike to a French vessel of superior force. The English captain, on resigning his sword, was reproached by the French commander for having, contrary to the usages of war, shot pieces of glass from his guns. The English officer, conscious that no such thing had been done, made inquiry into the matter among his men, and found the fact to be this. An Irish seaman, just before the vessel struck, took a parcel of shillings out of his pocket, and swearing the French should have none of them, wrapped them in a piece of rag, and thrust them into his gun, exclaiming, "Let us see what a bribe can do!" These shillings, flying about the vessel, were mistaken by the French for glass. The above explanation not only satisfied them, but put them in great good humour with their captives.

A Child on Board.—A child of one of the crew of His Majesty's ship Peacock, during the action with the American vessel Hornet, occupied himself in chasing a goat between decks. Not in the least terrified by the destruction and death which was going on all around him, he continued his amusement till a cannon-ball came and took off both the hind legs of the goat; when seeing her disabled, he jumped astride her, crying, "Now I've caught you." This singular anecdote is related in a work called "Visits of Mercy," (New York.)

Grog.—The British sailors had always been accustomed to drink their allowance of brandy or rum pure, until Admiral Vernon ordered those under his command to mix it with water. The innovation gave great offence to the sailors, and, for a time, rendered the commander very unpopular among them. The admiral, at that time, wore a grogram coat, for which reason they nick-named him "Old Grog," hence, by degrees, the mixed liquor he introduced universally obtained the name of "Grog."

Navy Chaplains.—When the Earl of Clancarty was captain of a man-of-war, and was cruising on the coast of Guinea, he happened to lose his chaplain by a fever, on which the lieutenant, who was a Scotchman, gave him notice of it, saying, at the same time, "that he was sorry to inform him that he died in the Roman Catholic religion." "Well, so much the better," said his lordship. "Oot, oot, my lord, how can you say so of a British clergyman?" "Why," said his lordship, "because I believe I am the first captain of a man-of-war that could boast of having a chaplain who had any religion at all."

Bishop and his Clerks.—A fleet of merchant ships, on their return from Spain, about three hundred years ago, were shipwrecked on the fatal rocks on which Sir Cloudsley Shovel was cast away: among these unfortunate men none were saved but three, viz. Miles Bishop, and James and Henry Clerk, who were miraculously preserved on a broken mast. From this accident the rocks took the name they bear, "The Bishop and his Clerks."

Dey of Algiers.—When Admiral Keppel was sent to the Dey of Algiers, to demand restitution of two ships which the pirates had taken, he sailed with his squadron into the bay of Algiers, and cast anchor in front of the Dey's palace. He then landed, and, attended only by his captain and barge's crew, demanded an immediate audience of the Dey; this being granted, he claimed full satisfaction for the injuries done to the subjects of his Britannic Majesty. Surprised and enraged at the boldness of the admiral's remonstrance, the Dey exclaimed, "That he wondered at the king's insolence in sending him a foolish beardless boy." To this the admiral made a spirited reply, which caused the Dey to forget the laws of all nations in respect to ambassadors, and he ordered his mutes to attend with the bowstring, at the same time telling the admiral he should pay for his audacity with his life. Unmoved by this menace, the admiral took the Dey to a window facing the bay, and showed him the English fleet riding at anchor, and told him, that if he dared to put him to death, there were Englishmen enough in that fleet to make him a glorious funeral pile. The Dey was wise enough to take the hint. The admiral obtained ample restitution, and came off in safety.

A Timely Answer.—When Admiral Cornwallis commanded the Canada, a mutiny broke out in the ship, on account of some unavoidable delay in the clerks paying some of the crew, in consequence of which they signed what is termed a round robin, in which they declared, to a man, that they would not fire a gun till they were paid. Cornwallis, on receiving this declaration, caused all hands to be called on deck, and thus addressed them: "My lads, the money cannot be paid till we return to port, and as to your not fighting, that is mere nonsense:—I'll clap you alongside the first large ship of the enemy I see, and I know that the devil himself will not be able to keep you from it." The tars were so pleased with this compliment that they all returned to their duty, better satisfied than if they had been paid the money ten times over.



SCHOOLS.

Dr. Sheridan had a custom of ringing his scholars to prayers, in the school-room, at a certain hour every day. The boys were one day very attentively at prayers, except one, who was stifling a laugh as well as he could, which arose from seeing a rat descending from the bell-rope into the room. The poor boy could hold out no longer, but burst into an immoderate fit of laughter, which set the others off as soon as he pointed out to them the cause. Sheridan was so provoked that he declared he would whip them all if the principal culprit was not pointed out to him, which was immediately done. When this poor boy was hoisted up, and made ready for flogging, the witty school-master told him that if he said any thing tolerable on the occasion, as he looked on him as the greatest dunce in his school, he would forgive him. The trembling culprit, immediately addressed his master in the following lines.

There was a rat, for want of stairs, Came down a rope—to go to prayers.

Sheridan instantly dropped the rod, and, instead of a good whipping, gave him half-a-crown.

Dr. Busby.—A scholar of Dr. Busby went into a parlour where the Doctor had laid down a fine bunch of grapes for his own eating, took it up, and said aloud, "I publish the banns between these grapes and my mouth; if any one knows any just cause or impediment why these two should not be joined together, let him declare it." The Doctor, being in the next room, overheard all that was said, and going into the school, ordered the boy who had eaten his grapes to be horsed on another boy's back; but, before he proceeded to the usual discipline, he cried out aloud, as the delinquent had done: "I publish the banns between my rod and this boy's back; if any one knows any just cause or impediment why these two should not be joined together, let him declare it."—"I forbid the banns." said the boy—"Why so?" said the Doctor. "Because the parties are not agreed," replied the boy. This answer so pleased the Doctor, that he ordered the offender to be set free.

An Appropriate Version.—The late Dr. Adam, Rector of the Grammar School, Edinburgh, was supposed by his scholars to exercise a strong partiality for such as were of patrician descent; and on one occasion was very smartly reminded of it by a boy of mean parentage, whom he was reprehending rather severely for his ignorance—much more so than the boy thought he would have done, had he been the son of a right honourable, or even less. "You dunce," exclaimed the rector, "I don't think you can even translate the motto of your own native place, of the gude town of Edinburgh. What, sir, does 'Nisi Dominus frustra,' mean?" "It means, sir," rejoined the boy, "that unless we are lords' sons, it is in vain to come here."

A Choice.—At a recent examination at Marlborough House Grammar School, a piece written for the occasion, entitled "Satan's Address to Nena Sahib," was to have been recited by two pupils. Only one of the pupils came forward, Mr. Barrett stating that he could not prevail upon any pupil to take the part of Nena Sahib, they having such an abhorrence to the character, though several had offered to take the part of the Devil.



SERVANTS.

Jonas Hanway having once advertised for a coachman, he had a great number of applicants. One of them he approved of, and told him, if his character answered, he would take him on the terms agreed on: "But," said he, "my good fellow, as I am rather a particular man, it may be proper to inform you, that every evening, after the business of the stable is done, I expect you to come to my house for a quarter of an hour to attend family prayers. To this I suppose you can have no objection."—"Why as to that, sir," replied the fellow, "I doesn't see much to say against it; but I hope you'll consider it in my wages!"

Coleridge, among his other speculations, started a periodical, in prose and verse, entitled The Watchman, with the motto, "that all might know the truth, and that the truth might make us free." He watched in vain! His incurable want of order and punctuality, and his philosophical theories, tired out his readers, and the work was discontinued after the ninth number. Of the unsaleable nature of this publication, he himself relates an amusing illustration. Happening one morning to rise at an earlier hour than usual, he observed his servant girl putting an extravagant quantity of paper into the grate in order to light the fire, and mildly checked her for her wastefulness: "La! sir," replied Nanny; "it's only Watchmen."

The Marquis of Granby having returned from the army in Germany, travelled with all possible expedition from the English port at which he landed to London, and finding on his arrival that the king was at Windsor, he proceeded there in his travelling-dress; where desiring to be instantly introduced to his majesty, a certain lord came forward, who said he hoped the noble marquis did not mean to go into the presence of his majesty in so improper a habit, adding, "'Pon my honour, my lord, you look more like a groom than a gentleman."—"Perhaps I may," replied the marquis, "and I give you my word, if you do not introduce me to the king this instant, I will act like a groom, and curry you in a way you won't like."

The Schoolmaster Abroad.—A young woman meeting her former fellow-servant, was asked how she liked her place. "Very well."—"Then you have nothing to complain of?"—"Nothing; only master and missis talk such very bad grammar, and don't pronounce their H's."

A Soldier's Wife.—The late Duchess of York having desired her housekeeper to seek out for a new laundress, a decent-looking woman was recommended to the situation. "But, (said the housekeeper) I am afraid that she will not suit your royal highness, as she is a soldier's wife, and these people are generally loose characters." "What is that you say, said the duke, who had just entered the room. A soldier's wife! Pray, madam, what is your mistress? If that is all her fault, I desire that the woman may be immediately engaged."



SIGNS.

A Scotch Innkeeper, who had determined on adopting the sign of Flodden Well, was much puzzled for a suitable inscription. At length he waited on Sir Walter Scott, and asked his aid, observing, that "as he had written so much about it in Marmion, he might know something that would do for an inscription." The poet immediately replied, "Why, man, I think ye cannot do better than take a verse from the poem itself." The innkeeper expressed his willingness to do this, when Sir Walter said to him, "Well, then, you have nothing to do, but just to leave out one letter from the line

'Drink, weary traveller—drink and pray;'

and say instead

'Drink, weary traveller—drink and pay!'"

Dean Swift's barber one day told him that he had taken a public-house. "And what's your sign?" said the dean. "Oh, the pole and bason; and if your worship would just write me a few lines to put upon it, by way of motto, I have no doubt but it would draw me plenty of customers." The dean took out his pencil, and wrote the following couplet, which long graced the barber's sign:

"Rove not from pole to pole, but step in here, Where nought excels the shaving, but the beer."



SOLDIERS.

Equality in Danger.—The French General, Cherin, was once conducting a detachment through a very difficult defile. He exhorted his soldiers to endure patiently the fatigues of the march. "It is easy for you to talk," said one of the soldiers near him; "you who are mounted on a fine horse—but we poor devils!"—On hearing these words, Cherin dismounted, and quickly proposed to the discontented soldier to take his place. The latter did so; but scarcely had he mounted, when a shot from the adjoining heights struck and killed him. "You see," says Cherin, addressing his troops, "that the most elevated place is not the least dangerous." After which he remounted his horse, and continued the march.

Marshal Suwarrow in his march to the attack of Ockzakow, proceeded with such rapidity at the head of his advanced guard, that his men began to murmur at the fatigues they endured. The Marshal, apprized of this circumstance, after a long day's march, drew his men up in a hollow square, and addressing them, said, "that his legs had that day discovered some symptoms of mutiny, as they refused to second the impulses of his mind, which urged him forward to the attack of the enemy's fortress." He then ordered his boots to be taken off, and some of the drummers to advance with their cats, and flog his legs, which ceremony was continued till they bled considerably. He put on his boots again very coolly, expressing a hope that his legs would in future better know how to discharge their duty. The soldiers after that marched on without a murmur, struck at once with the magnanimity of their commander, and the ingenuity of his device to remind them of their duty.

Brief Explanation.—A French colonel, in taking a redoubt from the Russians on the Moskwa, lost twelve hundred of his men, more than one half of whom remained dead in the entrenchment which they had so energetically carried. When Bonaparte the next morning reviewed this regiment, he asked the colonel what he had done with one of his battalions? "Sire," replied he, "it is in the redoubt."

Death of a Hero.—At the battle of Malplaquet, in 1709, Marshal Villars was dangerously wounded, and desired to receive the Holy Sacrament. Being advised to receive in private, he said, "No, if the army cannot see me die like a hero, they shall see me die as a Christian."

Magdeline de Savoie.—Anne Duc de Montmorenci, who was prime minister and great constable of France during the reigns of Francis I., Henry II., Francis II., and Charles IX., was very unwilling to take up arms against the Prince of Conde and the Coligny's, to whom he was endeared by the ties of friendship, as well as those of consanguinity. He was however induced to give way by the following animated and forcible speech of his wife, Magdeline de Savoie: "It is then in vain, sir, that you have taken as a motto to your escutcheon, the word of command that your ancestors always gave at the outset of every battle in which they were engaged (Dieu aide du premier Chretien). If you do not fight with all your energy in defence of that religion which is now attempted to be destroyed, who then is to give an example of respect and of veneration for the Holy See, if not he who takes his very name, his arms, his nobility, from the first baron of France who professed the holy religion of Christ?"

A Relay of Legs.—Rivardes, a Piedmontese, had attached himself to the house of France, and was much esteemed as a soldier. He had lost one of his legs, and had worn a wooden one for some time, when in an engagement a ball carried off the latter, leaving him the other safe and sound. On being raised up, he exclaimed laughingly, "What fools these fellows are! They would have saved their shot had they known that I had two others equally good among my baggage."

Present!—During the Crimean war a French captain wrote to the Cure of his native place in these words: "I endeavour to regulate my affairs in such sort, that if God should address to me the call, I may be able to answer, Present!" Not long after this the brave captain met his death under the walls of Sebastopol.

Quartering.—At an election for Shrewsbury, in the reign of George I., a half-pay officer, who was a nonresident burgess, was, with some other voters, brought down from London at the expense of Mr. Kynaston, one of the candidates. The old campaigner regularly attended and feasted at the houses which were opened for the electors in Mr. Kynaston's interest until the last day of the polling, when, to the astonishment of the party, he gave his vote to his opponent. For this strange conduct he was reproached by his quondam companions, and asked what could have induced him to act so dishonourable a part as to become an apostate. "An apostate," answered the old soldier, "an apostate! by no means—I made up my mind about whom I would vote for before I set out upon this campaign, but I remembered Marlborough's constant advice to us when I served with the army in Flanders, 'Always quarter upon the enemy, my lads—always quarter upon the enemy.'"

Seeking for a Ball.—The Count de Grance being wounded in the knee with a musket ball, the surgeons made many incisions. At last, losing patience, he asked them why they treated him so unmercifully? "We are seeking for the ball," said they. "Why then did you not speak before?" said the Count, "I could have saved you the trouble, for I have it in my pocket."

Turenne.—In the year 1675, the Council of Vienna sent Montecuculi to oppose Turenne, as the only officer that was thought to be a match for him. Both generals were perfect masters of the art of war. They passed four months in watching each other, and in marches and counter-marches; at length Turenne thought he had got his rival into such a situation as he wanted, near Saltsbach, when, going to choose a place to erect a battery, he was unfortunately struck by a cannon shot, which killed him on the spot. The same ball having carried away the arm of St. Hilaire, lieutenant-general of the artillery, his son, who was near, could not forbear weeping. "Weep not for me," said Hilaire, "but for the brave man who lies there, whose loss to his country nothing can repair."

Generosity of Turenne.—The deputies of a great metropolis in Germany, once offered the great Turenne one hundred thousand crowns not to pass with his army through their city. "Gentlemen," said he, "I cannot in conscience accept your money, as I had no intention to pass that way."



TEMPER.

Henderson, the actor, was seldom known to be in a passion. When at Oxford, he was one day debating with a fellow student, who, not keeping his temper, threw a glass of wine in the actor's face; upon which Henderson took out his handkerchief, wiped his face, and coolly said, "That, sir, was a digression; now for the argument."

Peter the Great made a law in 1722, that if any nobleman beat or ill-treat his slaves he should be looked upon as insane, and a guard should be appointed to take care of his person and his estate. This great monarch once struck his gardener, who being a man of great sensibility, took to his bed, and died in a few days. Peter, hearing of this, exclaimed, with tears in his eyes, "Alas! I have civilized my own subjects; I have conquered other nations; yet I have not been able to civilize or conquer myself."

Fletcher, of Saltown, is well known to have possessed a most irritable temper. His footman desired to be dismissed. "Why do you leave me?" said he. "Because, sir," to speak the truth, "I cannot bear your temper." "To be sure, I am passionate, but my passion is no sooner on than it is off." "Yes, sir," replied the servant, "but then it is no sooner off than it is on."

A Neat Reply.—In certain debates in the House of Lords, in 1718, the bills proposed were opposed by Bishop Atterbury, who said, "he had prophesied last winter, that this bill would be attempted in the present session, and he was sorry to find he had proved a true prophet." Lord Coningsby, who usually spoke in a passion, rose, and remarked, that "one of the right reverends had set himself forth as a prophet; but for his part, he did not know what prophet to liken him to, unless to that famous prophet Balaam, who was reproved by his own ass." The bishop, in reply, with great readiness and temper exposed this rude attack, concluding in these words: "Since the noble lord hath discovered in our manners such a similitude, I must be content to be compared to the prophet Balaam; but, my lords, I am at a loss how to make out the other part of the parallel. I am sure that I have been reproved by nobody but his lordship." From that day forth, Lord Coningsby was called "Atterbury's Pad."

Dr. Hough, of Worcester, was remarkable for evenness of temper, of which the following story affords a proof. A young gentleman, whose family had been well acquainted with the doctor, in making the tour of England before he went abroad, called to pay his respects to him as he passed by his seat in the country. It happened to be at dinner-time, and the room full of company. The bishop, however, received him with much familiarity; but the servant in reaching him a chair, threw down a curious weather-glass that had cost twenty guineas, and broke it. The gentleman was under infinite concern, and began to make an apology for being the occasion of the accident, when the bishop with great good nature interrupted him. "Be under no concern, sir," said his lordship, smiling, "for I am much beholden to you for it. We have had a very dry season; and now I hope we shall have rain. I never saw the glass so low in my life." Every one was pleased with the humour and pleasantry of the turn; and the more so, as the Doctor was then more than eighty, a time of life when the infirmities of old age make most men peevish and hasty.

A Test.—A cobbler at Leyden, who used to attend the public disputations held at the academy, was once asked if he understood Latin? "No," replied the mechanic, "but it is easy to know who is wrong in the argument." "How?" enquired his friend. "Why, by seeing who is first angry."

Casaubon, in his "Treatise on the Passions," relates the following pleasing anecdote of Robert, one of the greatest monarchs that ever swayed the sceptre of France. Having once surprised a rogue who had cut away the half of his mantle, he took no other notice of the offence than by saying mildly to him, "Save thyself, sinner, and leave the rest for another who may have need of it."

Garrick once complained to Sir Joshua Reynolds of the abuse with which he was loaded by Foote, when Sir Joshua answered, that Foote, in so doing, gave the strongest possible proof of being in the wrong; as it was always the man who had the worst side who became violent and abusive.



TIME, VALUE OF.

Spare Moments.—The great French Chancellor D'Aguesseau carefully employed every moment of his time. Observing that Madame D'Aguesseau always delayed ten or twelve minutes before she came down to dinner, he began to compose a work to which he intended to devote these few minutes, which would otherwise have been lost. The result was, at the end of fifteen years, a work in three large quarto volumes, which went through several editions.

Buffon thus relates the manner in which he acquired a habit of early rising. "In my youth," says he, "I was excessively fond of sleep, and that indolence robbed me of much time. My poor Joseph (a domestic who served him for sixty-five years) was of the greatest benefit to me in overcoming it. I promised him a crown for every time he should make me get up at six o'clock. He failed not the next day to rouse me, but I only abused and threatened him. He tried the day following, and I did the same, which made him desist. 'Friend Joseph,' said I to him at last, 'I have lost my time and you have gained nothing. You do not know how to manage the matter. Think only of my promise, and do not regard my threatenings.' The day following he accomplished his point. At first I begged, then entreated and abused, and would have discharged him; but he disregarded me, and raised me up by absolute force. He had his reward every day for my ill-humour at the moment of waking, by thanks, and a crown an hour after. I owe to poor Joseph at least ten or twelve volumes of my works."

Cuvier, the celebrated naturalist, was singularly careful of his time, and did not like those who entered his house to deprive him of it. "I know," said he, "that Monsieur l'Abbe Hauy comes to see me; our conversation is an exchange; but I do not want a man to come and tell me whether it is hot or cold, raining or sunshine. My barometer and thermometer know more than all possible visitors; and in my studies in natural history," added he, "I have not found in the whole animal kingdom a species, or class, or family, who frighten me so much as the numerous family of idlers"

Dr. Pepusch.—"In one of my visits, very early in life, to that venerable master, Dr. Pepusch," says Dr. Burney, "he gave me a short lesson, which made so deep an impression that I long endeavoured to practise it. 'When I was a young man,' said he, 'I determined never to go to bed at night, till I knew something that I did not know in the morning.'"



TRAVELLING.

A Tiresome Companion.—The celebrated George Selwyn was once travelling, and was interrupted by the frequent impertinence of a companion, who was constantly teasing him with questions, and asking him how he did. "How are you now, sir?" said the impertinent. George, in order to get rid of his importunity, replied, "Very well: and I intend to continue so all the rest of the journey."

Charles Lamb.—A farmer, by chance a companion in a coach with Charles Lamb, kept boring him to death with questions, in the jargon of agriculturists, about crops. At length he put a poser—"And pray, sir, how are turnips this year?" "Why that, sir," stammered out Lamb, "will depend upon the boiled legs of mutton."

Clans.—An English gentleman travelling through the Highlands, came to the inn of Letter Finlay, in the braes of Lochaber. He saw no person near the inn, and knocked at the door. No answer. He knocked repeatedly with as little success; he then opened the door, and walked in. On looking about, he saw a man lying on a bed, whom he hailed thus: "Are there any Christians in this house?" "No," was the reply, "we are all Camerons."

Welcome Sight.—A writer of a modern book of travels, relating the particulars of his being cast away, thus concludes: "After having walked eleven hours without having traced the print of human foot, to my great comfort and delight, I saw a man hanging upon a gibbet; my pleasure at the cheering prospect was inexpressible; for it convinced me that I was in a civilized country!"



WAR.

Camp Dinner.—During the war, in which the eccentric Count Schaumbourg Lippe commanded the artillery in the army of Prince Frederick of Brunswick, against the French, he one day invited several Hanoverian officers to dine with him in his tent. When the company were in high spirits, and full of gaiety, several cannon balls flew in different directions about the tent. "The French," exclaimed the officers, "are not far off." "No, no," replied the Count, "the enemy, I assure you, are at a great distance; keep your seats." The firing soon afterwards recommenced; when one of the balls carrying away the top of the tent, the officers suddenly rose from their chairs, exclaiming, "The French are here!" "No," replied the Count, "the French are not here; and, therefore, gentlemen, I desire you will again sit down, and rely upon my word." The balls continued to fly about; the officers, however, continued to eat and drink without apprehension, though not without whispering their conjectures to each other upon the singularity of their entertainment. The Count, at length, rose from the table, and addressing himself to the company, said, "Gentlemen, I was willing to convince you how well I can rely upon the officers of my artillery; for I ordered them to fire during the time we continued at dinner, at the pinnacle of the tent, and they have executed my orders with great punctuality."

A Ragged Regiment.—In 1690, the French attacked and defeated the Prince of Waldeck at Fleurus. During this action, a lieutenant-colonel of a French regiment was on the point of charging. Not knowing how to animate his men, who were discontented at having commenced the campaign without being fresh clothed, he said to them, "My friends, I congratulate you, that you have the good fortune to be in presence of a regiment newly clothed. Charge them vigorously, and we will clothe ourselves." This pleasantry so inspired the soldiers, that they rushed on, and speedily defeated the regiment.

The Ladies of Beauvais.—Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, laid siege to the City of Beauvais in the year 1472. After investing it closely for twenty-one days, his troops made a general assault, and were on the point of carrying the place, when a band of women, headed by a lady of the name of Jeanne Hachette, rushing to the walls, opposed such a resistance, with showers of stones, and other missiles, that the tide of fortune was instantaneously turned. A Burgundian officer, who attempted to plant the duke's standard on the walls, was fiercely attacked by Jeanne Hachette, who, snatching the standard from his hands, threw him headlong over the wall. The assailants, in short, were completely repulsed; nor was the distaff, once thrown aside, resumed, till the ladies of Beauvais had forced the Duke of Burgundy to retire in shame from their walls. In memory of this gallant achievement, the Municipality of Beauvais ordered a general procession of the inhabitants to take place every year, on the 10th of July, the day on which the siege was raised, in which the ladies were to have the privilege of preceding the men. As long as Jeanne Hachette lived, she marched in this annual procession, at the head of the women, bearing the standard which she had captured from the Burgundian officer; and at her death this standard was deposited in the church of the Dominicans, and a portrait of the heroine placed in the Town-Hall of Beauvais.

Charles XII. was dictating a letter to his secretary during the siege of Stralsund, when a bomb fell through the roof into the next room of the house where they were sitting. The terrified secretary let the pen drop from his hand. "What is the matter?" said Charles, calmly. The secretary replied, "Ah, sire, the bomb!" "But what has the bomb to do," said Charles, "with what I am dictating to you?—go on."

Gonsalvo of Cordova.—In an engagement which the Spaniards fought under Gonsalvo of Cordova, their powder-magazine was blown up by the first discharge of the enemy; but so far was this from discouraging the general, that he immediately cried out to his soldiers, "My brave boys, the victory is ours! Heaven tells us by this signal that we shall have no further occasion for our artillery." This confidence of the general passed on to the soldiers; they rushed to the contest, and gained a complete victory.

Algerine Captain.—Louis XIV., who had once bombarded Algiers, ordered the Marquess du Quesne to bombard it a second time, in order to punish the treachery and insolence of the Moors. The despair in which the Corsairs found themselves at not being able to beat the fleet off their coasts, caused them to bring all the French slaves, and fasten them to the mouths of their cannon, where they were blown to pieces, the different limbs of their bodies falling even among the French ships. An Algerine captain, who had been taken on a cruize, and well treated by the French while he had been their prisoner, one day perceived, among those unfortunate Frenchmen who were doomed to the cruel fate just mentioned, an officer named Choiseul, from whom he had received the most signal acts of kindness. The Algerine immediately begged, entreated, and solicited in the most pressing manner, to save the life of the generous Frenchman; but all in vain. At last, when they were going to fire the cannon to which Choiseul was fixed, the captain threw himself on the body of his friend, and closely embracing him in his arms, said to the cannonier, "Fire! since I cannot serve my benefactor, I shall at least have the consolation of dying with him." The Dey, in whose presence this scene passed, was so affected with it, that he commanded the French officer to be set free.

Marshal Boufflers.—A few days previous to the battle of Malplaquet, it was publicly talked of at Versailles, that a very important battle would soon take place between the French army commanded by Marshal Villars, and the allied army under Prince Eugene and Marlborough. Louis XIV., who for some years had met with many mortifying repulses, seemed to be very uneasy about the event. Marshal Boufflers, in order to quiet in some degree the perturbation of his sovereign's mind, offered, though a senior officer to Villars, to go and serve under him, sacrificing all personal considerations to the glory of his country. His proposal was accepted, and he repaired to the camp. On his arrival, a very singular contest took place between the two commanders. Villars desired to have Boufflers for his leader; but the latter persisted in yielding him all the glory, while he shared the danger. No event in the life of Boufflers ever contributed more to render his name illustrious. Marshal Villars, who commanded the left wing at the battle, being obliged to retire on account of a wound he had received, Marshal Boufflers charged the enemy six times after this accident; but finding they had made themselves master of a wood through which they penetrated into the centre of the French army, he yielded them the field of battle, and made a retreat in such good order, that the allies declined pursuing him.

War by Candle Light.—Shortly after the commencement of the last Peninsular war, a tax was laid on candles, which, as a political economist would prove, made them dearer. A Scotch wife, in Greenock, remarked to her chandler that the price was raised, and asked why. "It's a' owin' to the war," said he. "The war!" said the astonished matron, "gracious me! are they gaun to fight by candle licht?"

Admiral Duncan's address to the officers of his fleet, when they came on board his ship for his final instructions, previous to the memorable engagement with Admiral De Winter, was couched in the following laconic and humorous words:—"Gentlemen of my Fleet, you see a very severe WINTER fast approaching; and I have only to advise you to keep up a good FIRE!"

A Noble Enemy.—When the Laura and Andromeda frigates were wrecked in a violent hurricane in the West Indies, on the coast of the Martinique, thirty-five men were thrown ashore alive. The Marquess de Bouille, on hearing of the circumstance, took them to his house, where he treated them most hospitably. After he had cured them of their bruises and sickness, and had clothed them from head to foot, he sent them with a flag of truce to the commanding officer of St. Lucia, with a letter, stating that these men having experienced the horrors of shipwreck, he would not add those of war, and had therefore set them free, and at liberty again to serve their country.

French Grenadier.—During the assault of Thurot on the town of Carrickfergus in 1760, an incident took place, reflecting at once the highest lustre on the soldier concerned, and evincing the union of consummate courage with noble humanity. Whilst the combatants were opposed to each other in the streets, and every inch was pertinaciously disputed by the British forces, a child by some accident escaped from a house in the midst of the scene of action, and ran, unawed by the danger, into the narrow interval between the hostile fronts. One of the French grenadiers seeing the imminent danger of the child, grounded his piece; left the ranks in the hottest fire; took the child in his arms, and placed it in safety in the house from which it had come, and then with all possible haste returned to resume his part in the fight.

George I.—During the siege of Fort St. Philip, a young lieutenant of marines was so unfortunate as to lose both his legs by a chain-shot. In this miserable and helpless condition he was conveyed to England, and a memorial of his case presented to a board; but nothing more than half-pay could be obtained. Major Manson had the poor lieutenant conducted to court on a public day, in his uniform; where, posted in the ante-room, and supported by two of his brother officers, he cried out, as the king was passing to the drawing-room, "Behold, sire, a man who refuses to bend his knee to you; he has lost both in your service." The king, struck no less by the singularity of his address, than by the melancholy object before him, stopped, and hastily demanded what had been done for him. "Half-pay," replied the lieutenant, "and please your majesty." "Fye, fye on't," said the king, shaking his head; "but let me see you again next levee-day." The lieutenant did not fail to appear, when he received from the immediate hand of royalty a present of five hundred pounds, and an annuity of two hundred pounds a-year for life.

Charles VI.—At the breaking out of the war against the Turks, in the year 1717, the Emperor Charles VI. of Austria took leave of his general, Prince Eugene, with the following words: "Prince, I have set over you a general, who is always to be called to your council, and in whose name all your operations are to be undertaken." With this he put into his hand a crucifix, richly set with diamonds, at the foot of which was the following inscription, 'Jesus Christus Generalissimus.'—"Forget not," added the Emperor, "that you are fighting his battles who shed his blood for man upon the Cross. Under his supreme guidance, attack and overwhelm the enemies of Christ and Christianity."

George the Second.—It was once found an impracticable task to make George the Second acquiesce in a judgment passed by a court-martial on the conduct of two officers high in the army. One of the officers had made himself amenable to military law, by fighting in opposition to the orders of his commander in chief, instead of retreating; by which act of disobedience, the general's plans were frustrated. On these circumstances being detailed to the king, his majesty exclaimed, "Oh! the one fight, the other run away." "Your majesty will have the goodness to understand, that General —— did not run away; it was necessary for the accomplishment of his schemes, that he should cause the army to retreat at that critical moment; this he would have conducted with his wonted skill, but for the breach of duty in the officer under the sentence of the court-martial." "I understand," impatiently returned the king; "one fight, he was right; the other run away, he was wrong." It was in vain that ministers renewed their arguments and explanations; his majesty could not, or would not, understand the difference between a disgraceful flight and a politic retreat; they were therefore obliged to end a discussion which merely drew forth the repetition of the same judgment—"The one face the enemy and fight, he right; the other turn his back and not fight, he wrong."

Ximenes.—At the siege of Oran, in Africa, Cardinal Ximenes led the Spanish troops to the breach, mounted on a charger, dressed in his pontifical robes, and preceded by a monk on horseback, who bore his archiepiscopal cross. "Go on, go on, my children," exclaimed he to the soldiers, "I am at your head. A priest should think it an honour to expose his life for his religion. I have an example in my predecessors, in the archbishopric of Toledo. Go on to victory." When his victorious troops took possession of the town, he burst into tears on seeing the number of the dead that were lying on the ground; and was heard to say to himself, "They were indeed infidels, but they might have become Christians. By their death, they have deprived us of the principal advantage of the victory we have gained over them."

An Odd Grenadier.—During the famous siege of Gibraltar, in the absence of the fleet, and when an attack was daily expected, one dark night, a sentinel, whose post was near a tower facing the Spanish lines, was standing at the end of his walk, looking towards them, his head filled with nothing but fire and sword, miners, breaching, storming, and bloodshed, while by the side of his box stood a deep narrow-necked earthen jug, in which was the remainder of his supper, consisting of boiled pease. A large monkey (of which there were plenty at the top of the rock), encouraged by the man's absence, and allured by the smell of the pease, ventured to the jug; and, in endeavouring to get at its contents, thrust his neck so far into the jug, as to be unable to withdraw it. At this instant, the soldier approaching, the monkey started up to escape, with the jug on his head. This terrible monster no sooner saluted the eyes of the sentry, than his frantic imagination converted poor pug into a blood-thirsty Spanish grenadier, with a tremendous cap on his head. Full of this dreadful idea, he instantly fired his piece, roaring out that the enemy had scaled the walls. The guards took the alarm; the drums were beat; signal-guns fired; and in less than ten minutes, the governor and his whole garrison were under arms. The supposed grenadier, being very much incommoded by his cap, and almost blinded by the pease, was soon overtaken and seized; and by this capture, the tranquillity of the garrison was soon restored, without that slaughter and bloodshed which every man had prognosticated at the beginning of this dire alarm.



MISCELLANEOUS.

Dunning.—The witty Lord Ross, having spent all his money in London, set out for Ireland, in order to recruit his purse. On his way, he happened to meet with Sir Murrough O'Brien, driving for the capital in a handsome phaeton, with six prime dun-coloured horses. "Sir Murrough," exclaimed his lordship, "what a contrast there is betwixt you and me! You are driving your duns before you, but my duns are driving me before them."

Steele & Addison.—A gentleman who was dining with another, praised the meat very much, and asked who was the butcher? "His name is Addison."—"Addison!" echoed the guest, "pray is he any relation to the essayist?"—"In all probability he is, for he is seldom without his steel (Steele) by his side."

A Tedious Preacher.—Mr. Canning was once asked by an English clergyman how he liked the sermon he had preached before him. "Why, it was a short sermon," quoth Canning. "Oh yes," said the preacher; "you know I avoid being tedious." "Ah, but," replied Canning, "you were tedious."

Charity sermon.—Sydney Smith, preaching a charity sermon, frequently repeated the assertion that, of all nations, Englishmen were most distinguished for generosity and the love of their species. The collection happened to be inferior to his expectations, and he said that he had evidently made a great mistake, for that his expression should have been, that they were distinguished for the love of their specie.

Pope the Poet.—This celebrated poet is said to have been once severely retorted upon. A question arose in company respecting the reading of a passage with or without a note of interrogation. Pope rather arrogantly asked one gentleman if he knew what a note of interrogation was. "Yes, sir: it is a little crooked thing that asks questions." Pope was little and deformed.

Estimate of Greatness.—Pope was with Sir Godfrey Kneller one day, when his nephew, a Guinea trader, came in. "Nephew," said Sir Godfrey, "you have the honour of seeing the two greatest men in the world."—"I don't know how great you may be," said the Guinea-man, "but I don't like your looks: I have often bought a man much better than both of you together, all muscles and bones, for ten guineas."

"Rejected Addresses."—The fame of the brothers James and Horatio Smith was confined to a limited circle, until the publication of "The Rejected Addresses." James used to dwell with much pleasure on the criticism of a Leicestershire clergyman: "I do not see why they ('The Addresses') should have been rejected: I think some of them very good." This, he would add, is almost as good as the avowal of the Irish Bishop, that there were some things in "Gulliver's Travels" which he could not believe.

The Two Smith's.—A gentleman took lodgings in the same house with James Smith, one of the celebrated authors of the "Rejected Addresses." His name was also James Smith. The consequence was an eternal confusion of calls and letters, and the postman had no alternative but to share the letters equally between the two. "This is intolerable, sir," said our author, "you must quit." "Why am I to quit more than you?" "Because you came last, and being James the Second you must abdicate."

Coleridge, the Poet, once dined in company with a person who listened to the conversation and said nothing for a long time; but occasionally nodded his head, and Coleridge concluded him a thoughtful and intelligent man. At length, towards the end of the dinner, some apple dumplings were placed on the table, and the listener had no sooner seen them than he burst forth, "Them's the fellows for me!" Coleridge adds: "I wish Spurzheim could have examined the fellow's head."

An Appropriate Successor.—Clerambault, who was deformed, was elected to succeed La Fontaine in the French Academy. On that occasion it was said that "La Fontaine was very properly succeeded by Esop."

Erskine.—Lord Kellie was amusing the company with an account of a sermon he had heard in Italy, in which the preacher related the miracle of St. Anthony preaching to the fishes, who, in order to listen to his pious discourse, held their heads out of the water. "I can credit the miracle," said Erskine, "if your lordship was at church." "I certainly was there," said the peer. "Then, rejoined Erskine, there was at least one fish out of water."

Memory.—A humorous comment on this system of artificial memory was made by a waiter at an hotel where Feinaigle dined, after having given his lecture on that subject. A few minutes after the Professor left the table, the waiter entered, with uplifted hands and eyes, exclaiming, "Well, I declare, the memory man has forgotten his umbrella!"

Parisian rag-picker.—An old chiffonnier (or rag picker) died in Paris in a state apparently of the most abject poverty. His only relation was a niece, who lived as servant with a greengrocer. This girl always assisted her uncle as far as her slender means would permit. When she heard of his death, which took place suddenly, she was upon the point of marriage with a journeyman baker, to whom she had been long attached. The nuptial day was fixed, but Suzette had not yet bought her wedding clothes. She hastened to tell her lover that their marriage must be deferred, as she wanted the price of her bridal finery to lay her uncle decently in the grave. Her mistress ridiculed the idea, and exhorted her to leave the old man to be buried by charity. Suzette refused. The consequence was a quarrel, in which the young woman lost at once her place and her lover, who sided with her mistress. She hastened to the miserable garret where her uncle had expired, and by the sacrifice not only of her wedding attire, but of nearly all the rest of her slender wardrobe, she had the old man decently interred. Her pious task fulfilled, she sat alone in her uncle's room weeping bitterly, when the master of her faithless lover, a young good-looking man, entered. "So, my good Suzette, I find you have lost your place!" cried he, "I am come to offer you one for life—will you marry me?" "I, Sir? you are joking." "No, indeed, I want a wife, and I am sure I can't find a better." "But everybody will laugh at you for marrying a poor girl like me," "Oh! if that is your only objection we shall soon get over it; come, come along; my mother is prepared to receive you." Suzette hesitated no longer; but she wished to take with her a memorial of her deceased uncle: it was a cat that he had kept for many years. The old man was so fond of the animal that he was determined even death should not separate them, and he had caused her to be stuffed and placed near his bed. As Suzette took puss down, she uttered an exclamation of surprise at finding her so heavy. The lover hastened to open the animal, when out fell a shower of gold. There were a thousand louis concealed in the body of the cat, and this sum, which the old man had contrived to amass, became the just reward of the worthy girl and her disinterested lover.

Integrity.—A Parisian stock-broker, just before his death, laid a wager on parole with a rich capitalist; and a few weeks after his death, the latter visited the widow and gave her to understand that her late husband had lost a wager of sixteen thousand francs. She went to her secretary, took out her pocket-book, and counted bank notes to the stated amount, when the capitalist thus addressed her: "Madame, as you give such convincing proof that you consider the wager binding, I have to pay you sixteen thousand francs. Here is the sum, for I am the loser, and not your husband."

During the speculations of 1837-38, Mr. C., a young merchant of Philadelphia, possessed of a handsome fortune, caught the mania, entered largely into its operations, and for a time was considered immensely rich. But when the great revulsion occurred he was suddenly reduced to bankruptcy. His young wife immediately withdrew from the circles of wealth and fashion, and adapted her expenses, family and personal, to her altered circumstances. At the time of Mr. C.'s failure, his wife was in debt to Messrs. Stewart and Company, merchants of Philadelphia, about two hundred dollars for articles which she had used personally. This debt, she had no means of liquidating. However after the lapse of twelve years, and when the creditors had of course looked upon the debt as lost, Mrs. C. was able to take the principal, add to it twelve years' interest, enclose the whole in a note and address it to Messrs. Stewart and Company. Messrs. Stewart and Company, upon the receipt of the money, addressed a note in reply to Mrs. C., in which they requested her acceptance of the accompanying gift, as a slight testimonial of their high appreciation of an act so honourable and so rare as to call forth unqualified admiration. Accompanying the letter was sent a superb brocade silk dress, and some laces of exquisite texture and great value.

Costume of the Sisters of Charity.—The Sisters of St. Vincent de Paul, at the time of their re-establishment in their house, in the Rue du Vieux Colombier, after the Revolution, wore black dresses and caps. On the fourth Sunday in Advent, 1804, Pope Pius the Seventh visited the community. He seemed surprised that the Sisters had not resumed the habit of their order; but he was told that no community had dared to show the religious habit abroad. He then spoke to the emperor, saying to him that the good daughters of charity "looked like widows." The emperor, at his request, gave authority to the Sisters to wear their habit, and they resumed it in the spring of 1805.

China-ware.—An English gentleman wanting a dessert-service of porcelain made after a particular pattern, sent over to China a specimen dish, ordering that it should be exactly copied for the whole service. It unfortunately happened that in the dish so sent over the Chinese manufacturer discovered a crack; the consequence was, that the entire service sent over to the party ordering it had a crack in each article, carefully copied from the original.

Dreaming.—It is a custom among the Canadian Indians, that when one dreams that another has rendered him any service, the person dreamed of thinks it a duty to fulfil the dream, if possible. A chief one morning came to the governor, Sir William Johnstone, and told him that he had last night dreamed that Sir William had made him a present of the suit of regimentals he wore. The governor readily presented them to him; but as the Indian was going out, "Stop," said Sir William, "I had almost forgot, but I dreamed about you last night; I dreamed that you gave me such a piece of land," describing a large tract. "You shall have it," said he, "but if you please, Sir William, we will not dream any more."

Lessing was remarkable for a frequent absence of mind. Having missed money at different times, without being able to discover who took it, he determined to put the honesty of his servant to a trial, and left a handful of gold on the table. "Of course you counted it?" said one of his friends. "Count it!" said Leasing, rather embarrassed; "no, I forgot that."

At a public sale, there was a book which Lessing was very desirous of possessing. He gave three of his friends at different times a commission to buy it at any price. They accordingly bid against each other till they had got as far as ninety crowns, there having been no other bidder after it had reached ten crowns. Happily one of them thought it best to speak to the others; when it appeared they had all been bidding for Lessing, whose forgetfulness in this instance cost him eighty crowns.

Edinburgh.—In a debate upon some projected improvement of the streets of Edinburgh, the Dean of Faculty wittily said that the forwardness of the clergy, and the backwardness of the medical faculty, had spoiled the finest street in Europe, alluding to the projection of the colonnade of St. Andrew's church and the recession of the Medical Hall in George's-street.

Maclaurin.—This celebrated Professor of Mathematics in Edinburgh College, and the able expounder of Newton's Principia, always dislocated his jaw, and was unable to shut his mouth, when he yawned. At the same time his instinct of imitation was so strong, that he could not resist yawning when he witnessed that act in others. His pupils were not slow in discovering, and taking advantage of this physical weakness. When tired of his lecture, they either began to yawn, or open their mouths in imitation of that act, and the prelection was interrupted. The Professor stood before them with his mouth wide open, and could not proceed till he rang for his servant to come and shut it. In the meantime the mischievous disciples of Euclid had effected their escape.

William III. and St. Evremond.—William was so little of a man of letters, that on the celebrated French writer, St. Evremond, being presented to him at St. James's, his majesty had nothing more apropos to say than this, "You are, I believe, sir, a major-general in your master's service."

Music and Politics.—Dr. Wise, the musician, being requested to subscribe his name to a petition against an expected prorogation of Parliament in the reign of Charles II., wittily answered, "No, gentlemen, it is not my business to meddle with state affairs; but I'll set a tune to it, if you like."

Sion College.—Upon the recovery of George III. in 1789, the librarian and others connected with Sion College were at a loss what device or motto to select for the illumination of the building; when the following happy choice was made by a worthy divine, from the book of Psalms; "Sion heard of it and was glad."