everything, and everything in its place. Better oysters, turbot, or turtle could be found nowhere in London; at least the west-end gentry and rich city people thought so. I have seen aldermen's ladies and French cooks at the shop by half dozens, in a morning of the dinner-giving season, looking out for choice fish; and, next to his superior goods, my master's glory was set on the distinguished customers who bought them.

"My belief is, that the same amount of profit coming from inferior rank or riches would not have had half such value in his eyes. The feeling is not so uncommon as you may think it. Mr. Sampson's gentility rose in proportion to that of the families he supplied; and the grandeur of every house to which he sent a turtle seemed somehow or other reflected on himself. My master's great customers were, therefore, much talked of. There was seldom a great dinner given at any of their houses, throughout the season, that he could not describe, from soups to wines; but the chief subject of his discourse and reverence was Sir Joseph Banks.

"However scholars may hold Sir Joseph now, he had a great name for learning in those days, when it was scarcer among the gentry than at present. I have heard too, that he was a worthy gentleman, and the private friend of our good king, George the Third. But it was none of these distinctions that called forth Mr. Sampson's respect. It was founded on far different considerations. Sir Joseph kept a large retinue and a fine carriage. He bought expensive fish, was particular in selecting them at my master's shop, and gave splendid dinners to the Royal Society.

"Being then young and foolish, I took strongly to Mr. Sampson's way of thinking; in spite, too, of the admonitions of my good mother, who, while she encouraged a proper respect for my superiors in station, as a rational and Christian duty, could not help perceiving the silly and slavish reverence for mere luxury and display which grew upon my mind. Many a time did that wise

and kindly mother remind me that splendour often walks with sin, while piety is clad in poor apparel; that sometimes rich men prefer plainness; and that, even at the west-end, the grandest were not always the greatest. These sensible remarks made small impression on me; boyish conceit suggested that my poor motherwho had worked so hard for us five (I mean myself and four sisters) ever since our father was lost at sea, when the youngest girl was a baby-knew nothing of the great world. Besides, Mr. Sampson's example was before me. To be candid, I rather surpassed him in my admiration of wealth and style, having latterly advanced so far as not to care for serving common people on any terms. My great desire, however, was to see Sir Joseph Banks. I had been almost a year apprenticed, and had heard an immensity concerning his carriage and house in Soho-square; for, seeing that I had a genteel taste, my master favoured me with particular details; but as the gentleman had been out of town, making a collection of rare flies, I had no opportunity of seeing him all that time.

"The premises which Mr. Sampson Huggins occupied in Coventgarden consisted of a shop and a back parlour, with cellars below for storage. His family lived in a country house near Hackney, though few fishmongers put up so high in my apprentice days. Omnibuses were not invented then, cabs hadn't been heard of in London, and the Hackney-coaches being rather expensive, Mr. Sampson saved money by sleeping in an old-fashioned cupboard he had kept in the said back-parlour for that purpose, and going home only late on Saturday evenings, during what is called the season. He was sure to be back early on Monday morning; for no man was more attentive to business, on which account but few helpers were kept about the shop-a salesman, the senior apprentice, William Jones, myself, and two porters, being his entire retinue.

"One Wednesday, in the beginning of May, the salesman was

sick, Jones had got a holiday to see his grandmother in Paddington, the porters were out on their duty, and I was alone in the shop. Mr. Huggins had attended a city dinner the evening before, but he rose in time to superintend the unpacking of a magnificent turbot sent express from Brighton, for the glory of his establishment. Turbot were particularly dear and fashionable that season. This was one of the finest specimens ever caught; so Mr. Sampson triumphed over surrounding fishmongers, wished Sir Joseph could only see it, and retired to shave-an operation which he always performed in the back parlour. As for me, my apprentice pride was high, I had set forth the splendid fish where it could be seen to the best advantage; and, early as it was (not yet nine in the morning), a sort of crowd had collected to gaze at it. I felt myself magnified in that turbot, and was wondering which of my master's grand customers would buy the fish, when a little old man, looking decidedly shabby, in an old beaver hat and gray overcoat, paused at the door, took a long, keen look, and walked in. What could such a person want in our shop? I had half made up my mind to say we didn't keep such things, if he asked for smoked herrings er a lobster; and fairly laughed out when, pointing to the splendid fish, he inquired, 'What's the price of that turbot?'

"Too dear for you, old fellow!' said I, without moving from my stand. 'We have cod and haddock here.'

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"I asked you the price of the turbot, child,' said the old man, quietly.

"Only five guineas! Will you take it home under your arm?" said I, wishing my master to hear what smart things I could say as he had often commended my wit; and not only was every word audible through the thin partition, but, by means of a glass pane and a small mirror, Mr. Huggins could see all that went

on.

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Boy, does your master keep you to offer impertinence to cus

tomers ?" said the old man, getting warm. 'Go and tell Mr. Huggins I wish to see him.'

"He is too busy to attend the like of you,' I would have said; but at that moment, with a face half shaved and soapy, out rushed my master, exclaiming, 'You young jackanapes, I'll teach you to talk so to Sir Joseph;' and seizing me by the collar, he cuffed me soundly, and shoved me into the street. The boys began to shout and the crowd to thicken. I had no chance but to run home and tell my mother. On my way I saw a handsome carriage with two footmen drive up to the shop, and when my mother went to intercede for me, she learned that Sir Joseph had bought the turbot for a great dinner, at which the king and queen were to be present. In all his tales of grandeur and fish-buying, my master had forgotten to mention that his patron sometimes went about streets and shops in very plain attire; and my gentility never imagined that the great Sir Joseph Banks could be seen in an old coat and a shabby beaver.

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"My mother's intercession was successful-perhaps through the sale of the turbot. Mr. Huggins consented to take me back without further punishment, though, at first, he talked of cancelling the indentures and making an example of me. However, my former place in his favour was never regained. From that day William Jones became the genteel boy, and the hearer of his grandest stories. The neighbouring apprentices also knew that I had been cuffed for giving sauce to Sir Joseph Banks,' and when the baronet or any of his servants came to the shop I felt ready to hide in a herring-barrel. In short, the day of the great turbot, which began in such pride, left, like many a man's proud days, a long train of petty vexations behind it; but it helped to teach me that civility should not be governed by appearances, and the wisdom of that text which says, 'Honour all men.'

Here my uncle's story closed; and I shall only add that it is a

fact to which some old residents in the city of London could even yet testify. All the names are of course altered, excepting that of the celebrated naturalist; and I have told it, in hopes that some of the young or old may likewise learn by the same lesson which taught my uncle civility.

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A SHILLING.

HE precise period of my birth has never been satisfactorily ascertained, and, indeed, whether I had parents at all has been doubted by some who are reputed to be well informed upon the subject. During many a long century, my substance lay unobserved and unconscious beneath the soil of Peru; and had it not been for an interesting incident, which I shall relate, I might have remained still longer unnoticed. Some time, however, towards the middle of the sixteenth century, a hunter being one day in pursuit of game, stumbled over the root of a tree, and would have fallen had he not laid hold of a shrub which stood invitingly at hand. The roots giving way, revealed, to his astonishment and admiration, a beautiful filamentous and entangled web of pure silver, and the existence of the treasures of Potosi, in which I lay embedded, was discovered. I shall not attempt to recount his delight upon the occasion, his communication of the important intelligence to his friends, the mine that was subsequently dug, and the various circumstances that followed. I may only linger for a moment to speak of the position and subsequent history of the scene of my birth, my information having been obtained from the best authority. The Cerro de Potosi is, I am told, some eighteen miles in circuit, rising to the height of more than sixteen thousand feet. I have