at Albany, and ask for victuals and drink, they say, 'Where is your money?' and, if I have none, they say, 'Get out, you Indian dog!' You see they have not yet learnt those little good things that we need no meetings to be instructed in, because our mothers taught them to us when we were children; and, therefore, it is impossible their meeting should be, as they say, for any such purpose, or have any such effect: they are only to contrive the cheating of Indians in the price of beaver."

[WE find the following curious and amusing passage in Boswell's "Life of Johnson:"-"It having been observed that there was little hospitality in London: Johnston.—'Nay, sir, any man who has a name, or who has the power of pleasing, will be very generally invited in London. The man Sterne, I have been told, has had engagements for three months.' Goldsmith.-' And a very dull fellow.' Johnson.-'Why, no, sir.' Johnson had disliked 'the man Sterne;' and in truth his habits were not such as a rigid moralist could approve. But Johnson properly repressed the envious notion of Goldsmith, that he was 'a dull fellow.' Laurence Sterne was born in 1713, at Clonmel,

in Ireland. His father was the grandson of Dr Richard Sterne, Archbishop of York, and was a lieutenant in an English regiment at the time of the birth of his son. Although of English descent and parentage, the early years of Laurence Sterne were spent in Ireland. At ten years of age he was put to school at Halifax. His father died in 1731, and in 1733 he was admitted at Jesus' College, Cambridge. He subsequently took orders, and obtained the livings of Sutton and Stillington, in Yorkshire. In 1741 he married. He appears to have lived in contented obscurity for nearly twenty years, discharging his professional duties without blame: "Books, painting, fiddling, shooting, were my amusements," he says; and really, when we consider the indifference to religion which characterised the clergy of that age, we cannot say that his example had anything in it peculiarly unbecoming his calling. The publication of two volumes of "Tristram Shandy," in 1759, at once raised him to universal notoriety, and in 1760 Lord Falconbridge presented him to the perpetual curacy of Coxwold, whither he immediately removed. Seven other volumes of "Tristram Shandy" followed in subsequent years, as well as his "Sermons" and the "Sentimental Journey." He died in 1768. His celebrity threw him into society that ruined his moral sense, and made him unwelcome to those who justly thought that genius was no apology for licentiousness. The same fault has condemned his writings to compara. tive neglect. In many of the higher excellences there is no book in our language equal to "Tristram Shandy," and, if its pruriences could be weeded from it, there are few creations of original talent more capable of calling forth the highest and best feelings of our nature. Leigh Hunt, in his "Essay on Wit and Humour," says, "If I were requested to name the book of all others, which combined wit and humour under their highest appearance of levity with the profoundest wisdom, it would be "Tristram Shandy." The passage which we shall extract from this remarkable book has the disadvantage of being amongst the best known of Sterne's celebrated scenes, but it has the advantage at the same time of requiring no excisions to render it quotable in a work intended for general perusal.]

It was some time in the summer of that year in which Dendermond was taken by the allies-which was about seven years before my father came into the country-and about as many after the time that my uncle Toby and Trim had privately decamped from my father's house in town, in order to lay some of the finest sieges to some of the finest fortified cities in Europe-when my uncle Toby was one evening getting his supper, with Trim sitting behind him at a small sideboard, the landlord of a little inn in the village came into the parlour with an empty phial in his hand, to beg a glass or two of sack; ""Tis for a poor gentleman-I think,

of the army," said the landlord, "who has been taken ill at my house four days ago, and has never held up his head since, or had a desire to taste anything, till just now that he has a fancy for a glass of sack and a thin toast-'I think,' says he, taking his hand from his forehead, 'it would comfort me.'

"If I could neither beg, borrow, nor buy such a thing," added the landlord, "I would almost steal it for the poor gentleman, he is so ill. I hope in God he will still mend," continued he; "we are all of us concerned for him."

"Thou art a good-natured soul, I will answer for thee," cried my uncle Toby; "thou shalt drink the poor gentleman's health in a glass of sack thyself,-and take a couple of bottles, with my service, and tell him he is heartily welcome to them, and to a dozen more if they will do him good."

"Though I am persuaded," said my uncle Toby, as the landlord shut the door, "he is a very compassionate fellow, Trim,yet I cannot help entertaining a high opinion of his guest too; there must be something more than common in him, that in so short a time should win so much upon the affections of his host;""And of his whole family," added the corporal, "for they are ail concerned for him."-"Step after him," said my uncle Toby, -"do, Trim, and ask if he knows his name."

"I have quite forgot it, truly," said the landlord, coming back into the parlour with the corporal, "but I can ask his son again."."-"Has he a son with him then?" said my uncle Toby. "A boy," replied the landlord, " of about eleven or twelve years of age; but the poor creature has tasted almost as little as his father; he does nothing but mourn and lament for him night and day: he has not stirred from the bedside these two days."

My uncle Toby laid down his knife and fork, and thrust his plate from before him as the landlord gave him the account; and Trim, without being ordered, took away without saying one word, and in a few minutes after brought him his pipe and tobacco. "Stay in the room a little," says my uncle Toby.

"Trim!" said my uncle Toby, after he had lighted his pipe, and smoked about a dozen whiffs-Trim came in front of his

master and made his bow;-my uncle Toby smoked on, and said no more. "Corporal !" said my uncle Toby-the corporal made his bow. My uncle Toby proceeded no farther, but finished his pipe.

"Trim!" said my uncle Toby, "I have a project in my head, as it is a bad night, of wrapping myself up warm in my roquelaure, and paying a visit to this poor gentleman."-"Your honour's roquelaure," replied the corporal, "has not once been had on since the night before your honour received your wound, when we mounted guard in the trenches before the gate of St Nicholas; and besides, it is so cold and rainy a night, that what with the roquelaure and what with the weather, 'twill be enough to give your honour your death, and bring on your honour's torment in your groin." "I fear so," replied my uncle Toby; "but I am not at rest in my mind, Trim, since the account the landlord has given me. I wish I had not known so much of this affair," added my uncle Toby, or that I had known more of it. How shall we manage it?""Leave it, an 't please your honour, to me,' quoth the corporal; "I'll take my hat and stick, and go to the house and reconnoitre, and act accordingly; and I will bring your honour a full account in an hour.". "Thou shalt go, Trim," said my uncle Toby, "and here's a shilling for thee to drink with his servant.""I shall get it all out of him," said the corporal, shutting the door. 00

My uncle Toby filled his second pipe; and had it not been that he now and then wandered from the point, with considering whether it was not full as well to have the curtain of the tenaile a straight line as a crooked one, he might be said to have thought of nothing else but poor Le Fevre and his boy the whole time he smoked it.isito Dispaoqing sili fut aud

It was not till my uncle Toby had knocked the ashes out of his third pipe that Corporal Trim returned from the inn, and gave him the following account:—

I despaired at first," said the corporal, " of being able to bring Back your honour any kind of intelligence concerning the poor sick lieutenant.""Is he in the army then?" said my uncle Toby.

"He is," said the corporal. "And in what regiment," said my uncle Toby. "I'll tell your honour," replied the corporal, "every thing straight forwards, as I learnt it."--" Then, Trim, I'll fill an other pipe," said my uncle Toby, "and not interrupt thee till thou hast done; so sit down at thy ease, Trim, in the window-seat, and begin thy story again." The corporal made his old bow, which generally spoke as plain as a bow could speak it-"Your honour is good:"—and having done that, he sat down as he was ordered, and began the story to my uncle Toby over again in pretty near the same words.

"I despaired at first," said the corporal, "of being able to bring back any intelligence to your honour about the lieutenant and his son; for when I asked where his servant was, from whom I made myself sure of knowing everything which was proper to be asked."-"That's a right distinction, Trim," said my uncle Toby. "I was answered, an' please your honour, that he had no servant with him; that he had come to the inn with hired horses, which, upon finding himself unable to proceed, (to join, I suppose, the regiment,) he had dismissed the morning after he came. 'If I get better, my dear,' said he, as he gave his purse to his son to pay the man, 'we can hire ho es from hence.''But, alas! the poor gentleman will never get from hence,' said the landlady to me, 'for I heard the death-watch all night long; and when he dies, the youth, his son, will certainly die with him, for he is broken-hearted already.'

"I was hearing this account," continued the corporal, "when the youth came into the kitchen to order the thin toast the landlord spoke of; 'but I will do it for my father myself,' said the youth. Pray let me save you the trouble, young gentleman,' said I, taking up a fork for the purpose, and offering him my chair to sit down upon by the fire whilst I did it. I believe, sir,' said he, very modestly, 'I can please him best myself.' am sure,' said I, 'his honour will not like the toast the worse for being toasted by an old soldier.' The youth took hold of my hand and instantly burst into tears."-" Poor youth!" said my uncle Toby, "he has been bred up from an infant in the army,

I