cloth, "Why, sir, the truth is, I had great reluctance in cutting the connexion; but what could I do? (Here he looked deploring and conclusive.) Sir, I discovered that the wretch positively ate cabbage."

Upon receiving some affront from an illustrious personage, he said that it was rather too good. "By gad, I have half a mind to cut the young one, and bring old G-e into fashion."

When he went visiting, he is reported to have taken with him an elaborate dressing apparatus, including a silver basin; For," said he," it is im

possible to spit in clay.'

On being asked by a friend, during an unseasonable summer, if he had ever seen such a one? "Yes," replied B. "last winter."

On a reference being made to him as to what sum would be sufficient to meet the annual expenditure for clothes, he said, "that with a moderate degree of prudence and economy, he thought it might be managed for eight hundred per annum."

He told a friend that he was reforming his way of life. "For instance," said he, "I sup early; I take a-a-little lobster, an apricot puff, or so, and some burnt champagne, about twelve; and my man gets me to bed by three."

MELANCHOLY FATE OF A PEASANT.

FROM BEAUMONT'S TRAVEls.

THIS unfortunate mountaineer, in the course of an excursion on those stupendous mountains, by chance discovered the vein of a mine containing particles of gold. Delighted at this unexpected treasure, he hastened to his wife, and disclosed the secret, under an injunction that she should not divulge it, lest he should be taken up by order of government. He visited his mine daily, and at first only brought away small

quantities of ore, which his wife disposed of at Genoa. His wealth at length accumulated sufficiently to enable him to purchase a spot of land, whereon he built a hut, and continued his exertions, at the hazard of his life, till he had obtained enough to render his situation easy and comfortable.

The only method by which he could gain access to the mine was that of laying himself on his belly, and pushing himself on through an opening formed between the strata of the rock, which was scarcely wide enough to admit his body: when he had procured the ore, he slid back in the same way. But, unfortunately, one evening, during that operation, a stone detached itself from the interior of the cave, and dropped on his shoulders, though not with sufficient force to occasion instant death, but enough to prevent his extricating himself either one way or the other; and he was left to perish in this horrible situation!

His wife, not seeing her husband return at the accustomed hour, took with her a friend, who had long had a suspicion of these mysterious excursions, and proceeded to the fatal spot, on approaching towards which she imperfectly heard the groans and lamentations issuing from the dreadful cavern-the inevitable tomb of her wretched husband! Every endeavour to extricate him was tried in vain-and he lived in this. deplorable situation five days! The unfortunate woman's grief was beyond description. When dead, his body was forced to be taken from the rock limb by limb: his remains were collected, and buried near his hut, and a wooden cross erected over his grave.

Having died without confession, according to the custom of the country numberless masses have been said for his soul; and the weary traveller often turns aside out of his way to prostrate himself on the stone which covers him, and drop a tear to his memory and his misfortune!

EXTRACTS FROM THOMAS FULLER.

FULLER is better known as the author of a book called his "r Worthies," than as the writer of another work under the title of "The Holy State." He was a contemporary of Shakspeare, and was intimate with him, Ben Jonson, Beaumont, May, and many other poets. He used a very quaint, but at times a nervous style, which, however, now and then deviated into too great simplicity, from his endeavours to be forcible without affectation. We have chosen a few specimens from his production last above named, and from that portion of it which is headed "General Rules:" their nature and object will be seen in an instant, and they will well repay the trouble of perusal.

OF JESTING.

Harmless mirth is the best cordial against the consumption of the spirits: wherefore jesting is not unlawful, if it trespasseth not in quantity, quality, or

season.

It is good to make a jest, but not to make a trade of jesting. The earl of Leicester, knowing that queen Elizabeth was much delighted to see a gentleman dance well, brought the master of a dancing-school to dance before her. "Pish!" said the queen, it is his profession; I will not see him." She liked it not where it was a master-quality, but where it attended on other perfections. The same may we say of jesting.

Jest not with the two-edged sword of God's word. Will nothing please thee to wash thy hands in but the font? or to drink healths in but the church chalice? And know the whole art is learnt at the first admissions, and profane jests will come without calling. If, in the troublesome days of king Edward the Fourth, a citizen in Cheapside was executed as a traitor for saying he would make his son heir to the crown, though he only meant his own house, having a crown for the sign, more dangerous it is to wit-wanton it with the

majesty of God. Wherefore, if, without thine intention, and against thy will, by chance-medley thou hittest Scripture in ordinary discourse, yet fly to the city of refuge, and pray to God to forgive thee.

Let not thy jests, like mummy, be made of dead men's flesh. Abuse not any that are departed, for to wrong their memories is to rob their ghosts of their winding-sheets.

Scoff not at the natural defects of any which are not in their power to amend. Oh! it is cruelty to beat a cripple with his own crutches. Neither flout any for his profession, if honest, though poor and painful. Mock not a cobbler for his black thumbs.

He that relates another man's wicked jest with delight, adopts it to be his own. Purge them, therefore, from their poison. If the profaneness may be severed from the wit, it is like a lamprey; take out the sting in the back, it may make good meat. But if the staple conceit consists in profaneness, then it is a viper, all poison, and meddle not with it.

He that will lose his friend for a jest, deserves to die a beggar by the bargain. Yet some think their conceits, like mustard, not good except they bite. We read that all those who were born in England the year after the beginning of the great mortality, 1349, wanted their four cheek-teeth. Such let thy jests be, that they may not grind the credit of thy friend; and make not jests so long till thou becomest one.

No time to break jests when the heart-strings are about to be broken. No more showing of wit when the head is to be cut off; like that dying man, who, when the priest, coming to him to give him extreme unction, asked of him where his feet were, answered, "At the end of my legs.' But at such a time jests are an unmannerly crepitus ingenii; and let those take heed who end here with Democritus, that they begin not with Heraclitus hereafter.

OF SELF-PRAISING.

He whose own worth doth speak, need not speak his

own worth. Such boasting sounds proceed from emptiness of desert: whereas the conquerors in the Olympian games did not put on the laurels on their own heads, but waited till some other did it. Only anchorites that want company may crown themselves with their own commendations.

It showeth more wit, but no less vanity, to commend one's self, not in a straight line, but by reflection. Some sail to the port of their own praise by a side wind; as when they dispraise themselves, stripping themselves naked of what is their due, that the modesty of the beholders may clothe them with it again; or when they flatter another to his face, tossing the ball to him that he may throw it back again to them; or when they command that quality, wherein themselves excel, in another man (though absent),, whom all know far their inferior in that faculty; or, lastly (to omit other ambushes men set to surprise praise), when they send the children of their own brain to be nursed by another man, and commend their own works in a third person, but, if challenged by the company that they were authors of them themselves, with their tongues they faintly deny it, and with their faces. strongly affirm it.

Self-praising comes most naturally from a man when it comes most violently from him in his own defence; for, though modesty binds a man's tongue to the peace in this point, yet, being assaulted in his credit, he may stand upon his guard, and then he doth not so much praise as purge himself. One braved a gentleman to his face, that, in skill and valour, he came far behind him. "" 'It is true," said the other; "for, when I fought with you, you ran away before me." In such a case it was well returned, and without any just aspersion of pride.

He that falls into sin is a man, that grieves at it is a saint, that boasteth of it is a devil; yet some glory in their shame, counting the stains of sin the best complexion for their souls. These men make me believe it