how he is usually dressed when composing. I am convinced Sir Walter Scott writes in an old coat. Lord Byron wrote without any coat at all. Barry Cornwall in an elegant morning gown and red slippers. Geoffrey Crayon in the ordinary dress of a gentleman, neither new nor old. Cobbett in a coat very often turned. Moore in a handsome brown frock and nankin trowsers. Croly in full dress. Leigh Hunt in a fashionable night-gown, of a fantastic pattern, and somewhat shabby. Wordsworth in a frieze jacket and leather gaiters. The late Mr. Shelley wrote in a dreadnought. Coleridge in a careless dress, half lay, half clerical. Hazlitt in an old surtout that was

never brushed.

Gifford wrote in a fine pepper and salt; and in a fustian jacket. Your old coat is a gentle moralist; it recals your mind from external pomps and vanities, and bids you look within. No man ever thinks of drawing the eyes of the ladies in an old coat: their flattery is not likely to turn his head as long as his coat remains unturned. A friend asked me to go with him last night to the opera ; I consulted my old coat, and stayed at home, to write for the benefit of posterity.

REGRET." Weel, Sandy," said a neighbour the other day to a little boy in the south of Fife, whose mother had been seriously indisposed, "Hoo is your mither to-day?" Deed I dinna ken very weel hoo she is," replied Sandy, scratching his head, "but the cow's taen ill-that's war nir my mither."

THE COUNT DE MIRABEAU AND HIS VALET.-The Count de Mirabeau, brother of the celebrated orator, one morning called his valet to him. "You are faithful," said he, " 'you are zealous; in short, I am satisfied with your services; but I give you your dismissal.” “On what account?" naturally inquired the valet. "Notwithstanding our

agreement, you get drunk on the same days as I do," said Mirabeau. "It is not my fault," replied the valet; "you get drunk every day." The Count found nothing to reply to this judicious argument, and he kept his Valet de Chambre.

EATING SALADS.-A lad who had lately gone to service, having had salad served up to dinner every day for a week, ran away; and when asked how he had left his place, he replied, They made me yeat grass i'th summer, and I wur afraid they'd mak me yeat hay i'th' winter; and I could no stond that, so I wur off."

MARCH OF INTELLECT.-At Guildhall, a few days since, a labourer of the name of Peacock presented himself before the magistrates, when the following dialogue took place:-" Magistrate Well, what do you want?-Labourer: Work. Magistrate : Work ? then go and look for it.-Labourer: I came here for it.-Magistrate: It is not our business to find work for you, therefore begone.-Labourer: You wont then I'll go and employ Counsel!"

PETER PINDAR.-Dr. Walcott, better known as Peter Pindar, had for some time a most violent cough, when his friend, Dr. Geach, persisted in recommending ass's milk as a certain cure. The bard, tired of his importunities, at length quieted him by sending the following epigram :

"And, Doctor, do you really think

That ass's milk I ought to drink?
"Twould quite remove my cough, you say,
And drive my old complaints away.
It cured yourself-I grant it true ;

But then-'twas mother's milk to you."

After a few days I get him to

DOING BUSINESS IN SCOTLAND.-It is not as in England, where, when an article is offered for sale, it is immediately purchased, or at once rejected as being too dear, but here there is a long haggling and cheapening of every article successively offered. The relation of my transactions with a man, will serve to shew the general mode of doing business. He bids me call again, which I do several times without doing any thing. He wishes to be the last I do with, but all cannot be last, and all have wished to be so. proceed to business: he objects to the price of the article I offer-he will not buy-I try to induce him, but do not offer to make any reduction. Says he, "You are over dear, sir; I can buy the same gudes ten per cent. lower: if ye like to tak off ten per cent. I'll tak some o' these." I tell him that a reduction in price is quite out of the question, and put my sample of the article aside; but the Scotchman wants it"Weel, sir, it's a terrible price, but as I am oot o't at present, I'll just tak a little till I can be supplied cheaper, but ye maun tak aff five per cent." But, sir," said I, "would you not think me an unconscionable knave to ask ten or even five per cent. more than I intended to take?" He laughs at me-" Hoot, hoot, man, do ye expec to get what ye ask? Gude Lord, an' I was able to get half what I ask, I would soon be rich. Come, come, I'll gie ye within twa an a half of your ain price, and gude faith, man, ye'll be weel paid." I tell him that I never make any reduction from the price I first demand, and that an adherence to the rule saves much trouble to both parties. "" Weel, weel," says he, " since you maun hae it a' your ain way, I maun e'en tak the article; but really I think you are over keen." So much for buying and selling: then comes the settlement. "Hoo muckle discount do you tak aff, sir?" "Discount! you cannot expect it; the account has been standing a twelvemonth." Indeed, but I do expec discount-pay siller without discount! na, na, sir, that's nae the way

M

here, ye maun deduct five per cent." I tell him that I allow no discount: "Weel, sir, then I'll gie ye nae money." Rather than go without a settlement, I at last agree to take off two o and a half per cent. from the amount, which is accordingly deducted. "I have ten shillings doon against ye for short measure, and fifteen shillings for damages." "Indeed these are heavy deductions; but if you say that you shall lose to that amount, I suppose I must allow it." " Oh, aye, sir, its a' right; eight shillings and four-pence for pack sheet, and thirteen shillings for carriage and postage." These last items astonish me: "What, sir," says I, are we to pay all the charges in your business?" But if I do not allow these to be taken off, he will not pay his account; so I acquiesce, resolving within myself that since these unfair deductions are made at settlement, it would be quite fair to charge an additional price to cover the extortion. I now congratulate myself on having concluded my business with the man, but am disappointed. "Hae ye a stawmpe?" asks he, "A stamp! for what?" "Just to draw ye a bill," replies he: "A bill! my good sir; I took off two and a half per cent. on the faith of being paid in cash." But he tells me it is the custom of the place to pay in bills, and sits down and draws me a bill at three months after date, payable at his own shop. "And what can I do with this?" "Oh, ye may

tak it to Sir William, and he'll discoont it for you, on paying him three months' interest." "And what can I do with his notes ?" "He'll gie ye a bill on London at forty-five days.” “So, sir, after allowing you twelve months' credit, and two and a half per cent. discount, and exorbitant charges which you have no claim on us to pay, I must be content with a bill which we are not to cash for four months and a half.” "Weel a weel, its a' right; and noo, sir," says he, " if you are gaing to your inn, I'll gang wi ye and tak a glass o' wine." ལམ་ ོན་མ་ང་ག་ན

A GENEROUS PLAYER.-For several years after Quin's retirement from the stage he annually performed Falstaff for the benefit of his old friend Ryan; but having once written a letter from Bath to his brother comedian, which he concluded by saying" he could not play for him any more," Ryan returned for answer that he hoped his old friend was not disobliged, and if he was not, he also hoped he would perform for him, for if he did not, his benefit would not be worth five pounds. To this Quin returned the following laconic epistle : "I would play for you if I could; but, by G-, I will not whistle for any man. As to your benefit, I have bequeathed you a thousand pounds in my will, and if you want money, you may have it now, which will save my executors the trouble of paying it.-JAMES QUIN."

LORD EXMOUTH.-At Portsmouth, several years ago, this gallant officer was sitting alone at dinner, when his servant announced to him that an Indiaman had struck upon the beach, and was in imminent danger of going to pieces. Sir Edward hastened to the shore, and found the intelligence correct; and the surf running so high that no boat dared to venture to board the vessel. Sir Edward, addressing 'himself to the crowd upon the beach, asked if any of them had heart enough to swim off with him to the ship. A young man stepped forward to answer the challenge; and two lines having been procured, Sir Edward and the stranger each took one, gained the vessel, and after safely landing all on board, were the last to return on shore. On stepping upon land, the gallant Admiral, addressing his comrade in 'danger, exclaimed, "Give me your hand, you're a fine fellow-who are you?-you must sail with me in future." The young man replied that he was the mate of a collier, and that he should hesitate to quit a situation so comfortable for the chance of doubtful promotion. Sir Edward overcame his scruples; and this singular introduction added to the heroes of the British Navy an officer unrivalled in heroic exploits.