oven, and how disappointed she would feel that I had never had a bit of it in my mouth at last; and I blamed my impertinent spirit of almsgiving, and out-of-place hypocrisy of goodness; and above all, I wished never to see the face again of that insidious, good-for-nothing, old, gray impostor.

Our ancestors were nice in their method of sacrificing these tender victims. We read of pigs whipt to death with something of a shock, as we hear of any other obsolete custom. The age of discipline is gone by, or it would be curious to inquire (in a philosophical light merely) what effect this process might have toward intenerating and dulcifying a substance, naturally so mild and dulcet as the flesh of young pigs. It looks like refining a violet. Yet we should be cautious, while we condemn the inhumanity, how we censure the wisdom of the practice. It might impart a gusto.

I remember an hypothesis, argued upon by the young students, when I was at St. Omer's and maintained with much learning and pleasantry on both sides, "Whether, supposing that the flavour of a pig who obtained his death by whipping (per flagellationem extremam) superadded a pleasure upon the palate of a man more intense than any possible suffering we can conceive in the animal, is man justified in using that method of putting the animal to death?" I forget the decision.

His sauce should be considered-decidedly a few bread crumbs, done up with his liver and brains, and a dash of mild sage. But banish, dear Mrs. Cook, I beseech you, the whole onion tribe. Barbecue your whole hogs to your palate, steep them in shallots, stuff them out with plantations of the rank and guilty garlic; you cannot poison them, or make them stronger than they are-but consider he is a weakling-a flower." Essays of Elia."

Sydney Smith

Witticisms

AMERICAN ICE.-Shortly after the repudiation of the Pennsylvanian bonds, Sydney Smith was shown a lump of American ice, upon which he remarked, “That he was glad to see anything solvent come from America."

CANNIBALS.-Sydney Smith is said to have given some advice to the bishop of New Zealand, previous to his departure, recommending him to have regard to the minor as well as to the more grave duties of his station—to be given to hospitality—and, in order to meet the tastes of his native guests, never to be without a smoked little boy in the bacon sack, and a cold clergyman on the sideboard. And as for myself, my lord," he concluded, "all I can say is, that I hope you will not disagree with the man that eats you!"

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IMPERTINENCE OF AN OPINION.-It is always considered as a piece of impertinence in England, if a man of less than two or three thousand a year has any opinions at all upon important subjects.

USE AND ABUSE.-A certain authoress interdicts cards and assemblies. No cards, because cards are employed in gaming; no assemblies, because many dissipated persons pass their lives in assemblies. Carry this but a little farther, and we must say, no wine, because of drunkenness; no meat, because of gluttony; no use, that there may be no abuse!

VIRGILIAN PUN.-Smith proposed, as a motto for Bishop Burgess, brother to the well-known fish-sauce purveyor:

"Gravi jampridem saucia cura."

THE WRONG WORD.-Preaching a charity sermon, he frequently repeated the assertion that Englishmen were distinguished for the love of their species. The collection happened to be inferior to his expectations, and he said that he had evidently used the wrong word: his expression should have been, that they were distinguished for their love of their specie.

SAMARITANS.-Yes, you find people ready enough to do the Samaritan, without the oil and twopence.

DOGS." No, I don't like dogs; I always expect them to go mad. A lady asked me once for a motto for her dog Spot. I proposed, 'Out, damnèd Spot!' But she did not think it sentimental enough,"

Salad

To make this condiment, your poet begs
The pounded yellow of two hard-boiled eggs.
Two boiled potatoes, passed through kitchen-sieve,
Smoothness and softness to the salad give.

Let onion atoms lurk within the bowl,
And, half-suspected, animate the whole.

Of mordant mustard add a single spoon,
Distrust the condiment that bites so soon;
But deem it not, thou man of herbs, a fault,
To add a double quantity of salt.

And, lastly, o'er the flavoured compound toss
A magic soup-spoon of anchovy sauce.

Oh, green and glorious! Oh, herbaceous treat!
'Twould tempt the dying anchorite to eat;
Back to the world he'd turn his fleeting soul,
And plunge his fingers in the salad bowl!
Serenely full, the epicure would say,
Fate cannot harm me, I have dined to-day!

Robert Southey

The March to Moscow

THE Emperor Nap he would set off
On a summer excursion to Moscow:
The fields were green, and the sky was blue,
Morbleu! Parbleu!

What a pleasant excursion to Moscow!

Four hundred thousand men and more

Must go with him to Moscow:

There were marshals by the dozen,

And dukes by the score;

Princes a few, and kings one or two.

While the fields are so green, and the sky so blue, Morbleu! Parbleu!

What a pleasant excursion to Moscow !

There was Junot and Augereau,

Heigh-ho for Moscow !

Dombrowsky and Poniatowsky,

Marshal Ney, lack-a-day!

General Rapp, and the Emperor Nap;

Nothing would do,

While the fields were so green, and the sky so blue,

Morbleu! Parbleu!

Nothing would do

For the whole of this crew,

But they must be marching to Moscow.