and pale, in a kind of uniform, and with a cocked hat, which on our approach he took off with inimitable gracefulness. Dr. Rees, our senior, a Presbyterian, and a fine-looking man, read the address. The King's air of supineness had given way to a mirthful smile, as he saw the satisfaction on our countenances when we were admitted to the royal presence. At the close of the address he read a brief reply, and then unexpectedly addressed us impromptu in these words :

"The manner in which you have spoken of my late revered father must touch every heart, and none more than my own (laying his hand upon his breast). You may assure yourselves, gentlemen, of a continuance, while I sway the sceptre, of all the privileges you enjoyed under his auspicious reign." To this we had almost audibly said, "hear, hear." When the King was informed that we waived the usual privilege of all kissing hands on account of the fatigue it would occasion him, and that as twelve only of the clergy had been permitted to do so, six only of our number would be selected for the honour, he smilingly observed, "O you may all kiss hands.” Upon this we all fell in a most humiliating posture on our knees to kiss his extended hand. Some of those who were large and aged men, especially Doctors Rees and Waugh, had great difficulty in rising, and retired backwards in some confusion, not being accustomed to such a movement. As we retired, the King said to us, "You may stay in the adjoining room till I return." While waiting there, we saw a small deputation of Quakers advancing with an address, which one of their number held before him in a frame. One of the pages coming towards them to take off their hats, Dr. Waugh, who loved a joke, said to the foremost Quaker, in an audible whisper, "Persecution, brother"; to which the brother significantly replied, while pointing upwards to the portrait of Charles I., "Not so bad to take off the hat as the head." We saw the King again as he returned in procession, and departed well pleased. I believe we were all remarkably loyal in our prayers the next Sunday.'"

ECCENTRIC MR. BLACKBURN.

This gentleman, one of the oldest members of the House of Commons, was very absent: once Captain Gronow gave him a letter to frank, which he deliberately opened and read in the Captain's presence, and on being asked if it amused him, he replied that he did not understand what it meant.

Mr. Blackburn was intimate with the Duke of Gloucester: one day he accompanied His Royal Highness to shoot pheasants, when suddenly Mr. B. observing that the Duke's gun was cocked, asked His Royal Highness whether he always carried his gun cocked.

"Yes, Blackburn, always," was the reply. "Well, then, good morning, your Royal Highness; I will no longer accompany you." At dinner, he would never surrender his place at table, even to royalty; so the Duke was obliged to sit near him. Whenever the royal servant filled the Duke's glass with wine-and-water, Mr. B. invariably drank it off, until at length the Duke having secured a glass, drank it off, and said, "Well, Blackburn, I have done you at last." After dinner, in the drawing-room, the servant in royal livery was holding a tray with a cup of tea for the Duke. Mr. Blackburn, seeing nobody, took the cup of tea, determined on drinking it; the servant retired a little, but Blackburn followed, and persisted; upon which the servant said, "Sir, it is for His Royal Highness." "D-n his Royal Highness, I will have this tea." The Duke exclaimed, "That's right, Blackburn," and ordered the servant to hand it to him.-Captain Gronon's Reminiscences.

IRISH WIFE-HUNTING.

An old Catholic family chanced to be in pecuniary difficulties, and a rich wife was the prescribed remedy. A priest, a friend of the family, who, as matrimony is one of the seven sacraments, thinks himself in duty bound to promote so salubrious a rite, was consulted. He gave a couple of taps to his gold snuff-box, protested that there are risks in celibacy, that it is needful to husband the constitution and the estate, and observing that the young squire, though a little pale, was a pretty fellow, put his finger to his nose, and hinted at a young damsel in Newrow (a penitent of his reverence, and a mighty good kind of young woman, not long come from the Cork convent), with ruddy cheeks and vigorous arms, a robust waist, and antigallican toes. The parties were brought together. The young gentleman stuttered a compliment, the heart of the young lady and her wooden fan were in a flutter; the question was popped. The old people put their heads together. Consideration of the marriage, high blood, and equity of redemption upon one side; and rude health and twenty thousand pounds on the other. The bargain was struck, and, to ensure the hymeneal negotiation, nothing remained but that Counselor Bellew should look over the settlements.

Accordingly, a Galway attorney prepared the draft marriage settlement, with a skin for every thousand, and waited on Mr. Bellew. Laying thirty guineas on the table, and thinking that upon the credit of such a fee he might presume to offer his opinion, he commenced with an ejaculation on the fall of the good old families, until Mr. Bellew, after counting the money, cast a Caius Marius look upon him, and awed him into respect. He unrolled

the volume of parchment, and the eye of the illustrious conveyancer glistened at the sight of the ancient and venerable name that stood at the head of the indenture. But as he advanced through the labyrinth of limitations, he grew alarmed and disturbed, and on arriving at the words "on the body of the said Judy Mac Gilligan to be begotten," he dropped his pen, and put the settlement away, with something of the look of a Frenchman, when he intimates his perception of an unusually bad smell. It was only after an interval of reflection, and when he had recalled the fiscal philosophy of Vespasian, that he was persuaded to resume his labours, but did not completely recover his tranquillity of mind, until turning the back of his brief, he marked that most harmonious of all monosyllables "paid," at the foot of the consolatory stipend.-Savage's Irish Sketches.

LONG STORIES.

Capt. George Robert Fitzgerald was one day rattling on in an ordinary, in a small town in Mayo county, when Mr. Garret Dillon, an old story-teller, shouted out: "Captain Fitzgerald, let me ask you this little question; do you intend to pay every man's club present?" "No, sir," replied Fitzgerald, "this is an ordinary, and not my private house." Well, then, sir, as you have now for two long hours engrossed the whole talk to yourself, I lay down my watch on the table, and if you attempt to say a word for one hour, I will make it a personal matter with you." George Robert, to the surprise of the company, quietly submitted to the injunction; the hour passed on; Dillon told, as under restraint, some stories in his worst manner; and it was a relief to the company, when Fitzgerald, at the expiration of the injunction, with perfect good humour, commenced to talk as if he had never been interrupted.

SMALL SERVICE.

An English lady, who lived in the country, and was about to have a large dinner party, was ambitious of making as great a display as her husband's establishment, a tolerably large one, could furnish. So that there might seem to be no lack of servants, a great lad, who had been employed only in farm work, was trimmed and dressed for the occasion, and ordered to take his stand at the back of his mistress' chair, with strict injunctions not to stir from the place, nor do anything, unless she directed him; the lady well knowing, that, although no footman could make a better appearance as a piece of still life, some awkwardness would be inevitable if he were put in motion. Accordingly, Thomas having thus been duly drilled and

repeatedly enjoined, took his post at the head of the table, behind his mistress, and for a while he found sufficient amusement in looking at the grand set-out, and staring at the guests; when he was weary of this, and of an inaction to which he was so little used, his eyes began to pry about nearer objects. It was at a time when our ladies followed the French fashion of having the back and shoulders under the name of the neck, uncovered much lower than accords either with the English climate, or with old English notions; a time when, as Landor expresses it, the usurped dominion of neck had extended from the ear downwards almost to where mermaids become fish. This lady was in the height, or lowness of that fashion; and between her shoulder blades, in the hollow of the back, not far from the confines where nakedness and clothing met, Thomas espied what Pasquier had seen upon the neck of Mademoiselle des Roches. The guests were too much engaged with the business and the courtesies of the table to see what must have been worth seeing, the transfiguration produced in Thomas's countenance by delight, when he saw so fine an opportunity of showing himself attentive, and making himself useful. The lady was too much occupied with her company to feel the flea; but, to her horror, she felt the great finger and thumb of Thomas upon her back, and, to her greater horror, heard him exclaim in exultation, to the still greater amusement of the party, "A vleá, a vlea! my lady, ecod I've caught 'en!"-The Doctor. [This reminds one of a story in Miss Hawkins's Countess and Gertrude.]

A POSER.

At Plymouth there is, or was, a small green opposite the Government House, over which no one was permitted to pass. Not a creature was allowed to approach, save the General's cow; and the sentries had particular orders to turn away any one who ventured to cross the forbidden turf. One day old Lady D, having called at the General's, in order to make a short cut, bent her steps across he lawn, when she was arrested by the sentry calling out, and desiring her to return, and go the other road. She remonstrated; the man said he could not disobey his orders, which were to prevent any one crossing that piece of ground. "But," said Lady Dwith a stately air, "do you know who I am?" "I don't know who you be, ma'am," replied the immovable sentry, "but I knows who you b'aint-you b'aint the General's cow." So Lady Dwisely gave up the argument, and went the other

way.

BEAU BRUMMEL.

Of all the beaux that ever flourished, exemplary of waistcoat and neckcloth, and having authoritative boots from which there was no appeal, Brummel appears to have been the chief. He was born in 1778, and his father, having grown wealthy by speculating in the funds, sent young George Bryan Brummel, at the proper age, to Eton. There he was a general favourite, but was more distinguished for his love of fun and frolic than for study. Even at this early period he affected a peculiar elegance, and obtained from his schoolfellows the sobriquet of "Buck Brummel," the term dandy not being then in parlance.

Contests between the Etonians and the bargemen were frequent Upon one of these occasions an unlucky bargee fell into the hands of the schoolboys, who, in resentment of their having been roughly handled by him in some previous quarrel, were about to fling him over the bridge into the river, when Brummel saved the poor fellow by exclaiming: "My good fellows, don't send him into the river! the man is evidently in a high state of perspiration, and it amounts almost to a certainty that he will catch cold!"

From Eton Brummel went to Oriel College, Oxford, where he did not remain long, for he was not much more than sixteen years old, when his father died, and in three months he was gazetted to a cornetcy in the 10th Hussars, then commanded by the Prince of Wales. Brummel had, when an Eton boy, been presented to the Prince on the terrace at Windsor Castle, and was soon received into high favour.

Brummel's assurance, at this early date, was sublime. A great law-lord gave a ball, at which a Miss J., one of the beauties of the day, was present; she declined all offers to dance until the young hussar made his appearance, and he, having proffered to lead her out, she acquiesced quietly, to the mortification of the disappointed candidates. In one of the pauses of the dance he found himself next an acquaintance, when he exclaimed, "Ha! you here? Do, my good fellow, tell me who that ugly man is leaning against the chimney-piece?" "Why, surely you must know him," replied the other, tis the master of the house." "No, indeed," said the cornet, coolly; "how should I? I never was invited."

Brummel soon grew weary of a soldier's life. His regiment being at Brighton, was unexpectedly ordered to Manchester. The news arrived in the evening, and early next day Brummel made his appearance before the Prince of Wales, to whom he apologetically explained: "Why, the fact is, your Royal Highness, I have heard