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Praise is the best diet for us, after all.

ONE day Mr. Rogers took Mr. Moore and Sydney Smith home in his carriage, from a breakfast; and insisted on showing them, by the way, Dryden's house, in some obscure street. It was very wet; the house looked very much like other old houses; and having thin shoes on, they both strongly remonstrated; but in vain. Rogers got out himself, and stood expecting them to do likewise; but Sydney Smith, laughing and leaning out of the carriage, exclaimed, "Oh! you see why Rogers don't mind getting out, he has got goloshes on ;-but, my dear Rogers, lend us each a golosh, and we will then each stand on one leg, and admire as long as you please."

When Prescott comes to England, a Caspian Sea of soup awaits him.

An American said to Sydney Smith, "You are so funny, Mr. Smith! do you know you remind me of our great joker, Dr. Chamberlaque." "I am much honoured," he replied, "but I was not aware you had such a functionary in the United States."

At Mr. Romilly's there arose a discussion on the Inferno of Dante, and the tortures he had invented. "He may be a great poet," said Sydney Smith, “but as to inventing tortures, I consider him a mere bungler, -no imagination, no knowledge of the human heart. If I had taken it in hand, I would show you what torture really was. For instance (turning to his old friend Mrs. Marcet), you should be doomed to listen, for a thousand years, to conversations between Caroline and Emily, where Caroline should always give wrong explanations in chemistry, and Emily in the end be unable to

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distinguish an acid from an alkali. You, Macaulay, let me consider? oh, you should be dumb. False dates and facts of the reign of Queen Anne should for ever be shouted in your ears; all liberal and honest opinions should be ridiculed in your presence; and you should not be able to say a single word during that period in their defence." "And what would you condemn me to, Mr. Sydney?" said a young mother. 'Why, you should for ever see those three sweet little girls of yours on the point of falling downstairs, and never be able to save them. There, what tortures are there in Dante equal to these?"

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Daniel Webster struck me much like a steam-engine in trousers.

When I began to thump the cushion of my pulpit, on first coming to Foston, as is my wont when I preach, the accumulated dust of a hundred and fifty years made such a cloud, that for some minutes I lost sight of my congregation.

Nothing amuses me more than to observe the utter want of perception of a joke in some minds. Mrs. Jackson called the other day, and spoke of the oppressive heat of last week. "Heat, Ma'am !" I said; "it was so dreadful here, that I found there was nothing left for it but to take off my flesh and sit in my bones." "Take off your flesh and sit in your bones, Sir? Oh, Mr. Smith! how could you do that?" she exclaimed with the utmost gravity. "Nothing more easy, Ma'am: come and see next time." But she ordered her carriage, and evidently thought it a very unorthodox proceeding.

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too, the other day, walking round the grounds at Combe Florey, exclaimed, "Oh, why do you chain up that fine Newfoundland dog, Mr. Smith?" "Because it has a passion for breakfasting on parish boys." "Parish boys!" she exclaimed, “does he really eat boys, Mr. Smith ?" "Yes, he devours them, buttons and all.” Her face of horror made me die of laughing.

I like pictures, without knowing anything about them; but I hate coxcombry in the fine arts, as well as in anything else. I got into dreadful disgrace with Sir G. Beaumont once, who standing before a picture at Bowood, exclaimed, turning to me, "Immense breadth of light and shade!" I innocently said, "Yes; about an inch and a half." He gave me a look that ought to have killed me.

At a large dinner party some one else announced the death of Mr. Dugald Stewart; one whose name ever brings with it feelings of respect for his talents and high character. The news was received with so much levity by a lady of rank, who sat by Sydney Smith, that he turned round and said, "Madam, when we are told of the death of so great a man as Mr. Dugald Stewart, it is usual, in civilised society, to look grave for at least the space of five seconds."

They do nothing in Ireland as they would elsewhere. When the Dublin mail was stopped and robbed, a sweet female voice was heard behind the hedge, exclaiming, "Shoot the gintleman, then, Patrick dear!"

We were all assembled to look at a turtle that had been sent to the house of a friend, when a child of the party

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stooped down and began eagerly stroking the shell of the turtle. "Why are you doing that, B-?" said Sydney Smith. "Oh, to please the turtle." "Why, child, you might as well stroke the dome of St. Paul's, to please the Dean and Chapter."

Some one naming as not very orthodox, "Oh," said Sydney Smith, "accuse a man of being a Socinian, and it is all over with him; for the country gentlemen all think it has something to do with poaching."

I hate bare walls; so I cover mine, you see with pictures. I took the advice once of two Royal Academicians, but brought their consultation to an abrupt determination by saying, Gentlemen, I forgot to mention that my highest price is five-and-thirty shillings. The public, it must be owned, treat my collection with great contempt; and even Hibbert, who has been brought up in the midst of fine pictures, and might know better, never will admire them. But look at that sea-piece, now; what would you desire more? It is true, the moon in the corner was rather dingy when I first bought it; so I had a new moon put in for half-a-crown, and now I consider it perfect.

Some one mentioned that a young Scotchman, who had been lately in the neighbourhood, was about to marry an Irish widow, double his age and of considerable dimensions. "Going to marry her!" he exclaimed, bursting out laughing; "going to marry her! impossible! you mean, a part of her; he could not marry her all himself. It would be a case, not of bigamy, but trigamy; the neighbourhood or the magistrates should interfere. There is enough of her to furnish wives for a whole parish. One man marry her!-it is monstrous. You might people

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PARSONIC DEER.-REFLECTION.

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a colony with her; or give an assembly with her; or perhaps take your morning walks round her, always provided there were frequent resting-places, and you are in rude health. I once was rash enough to try walking round her before breakfast, but only got half-way and gave it up exhausted. Or you might read the Riot Act and disperse her; in short, you might do anything with her but marry her.

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PARSONIC DEER.

OPPOSITE was a beautiful bank with a hanging wood of fine old beech and oak, on the summit of which presented themselves, to our astonished eyes, two donkeys, with deer's antlers fastened on their heads, which ever and anon they shook, much wondering at their horned honours; whilst their attendant donkey-boy, in Sunday garb, stood grinning and blushing at their side. "There, Lady - you said the only thing this place wanted to make it perfect was deer; what do you say now? I have, you see, ordered my gamekeeper to drive my deer into the most picturesque point of view. Excuse their long ears, a little peculiarity belonging to parsonic deer. Their voices, too, are singular; but we do our best for you, and you are too true a friend of the Church to mention our defects."

REFLECTION.

WE are told, "Let not the sun go down on your wrath." This of course is best; but, as it generally does, I would add, Never act or write till it has done so. This rule has saved me from many an act of folly. It is wonderful what a different view we take of the same event fourand-twenty hours after it has happened.

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