mizes our dinner."-"How so?"-" Because it serves to make both ends meet."-" Aha! Billy," roared the Baronet, "he had you there. I told you Harry didn't go to College for nothing."-" By the by, Sir," continued the nephew, "did you ever hear of Shakspeare's receipt for dressing a beefsteak ?""Shakspeare's !-no-the best I ever ate were at Dolly's ;but what is it?"-" Why, sir, he puts it into the mouth of Macbeth, where he makes him exclaim'If it were done, when 'tis done, then it were well 'twere done quickly.'"-" Good! good!" cackled the Baronet, "but I said a better thing than Shakspeare last week. You know Jack Foster the common council-man, ugly as Buckhorse-gives famous wine though; well, we were talking about the best tavern, (I'll thank you for some sweet sauce, Mr. Rule); and so says I-(and a little of the brown fat, if you please)-and so says I-Jack, I never see your face without thinking of a good dinner. Why so?' says Jack. Because it's ordinary every day at two o'clock, says I." Here the Baronet was seized with such a violent fit of laughter, that it brought on an alarming attack of coughing and expectoration; but he no sooner recovered breath enough than he valiantly repeated, "Why, so, Jack?-Because it's ordinary every day at two o'clock, says I:"-which he followed up with a new cackle, while Mr. Rule delivered himself most dogmatically of another "Capital!” and relapsed into his usual solemnity.

"The greatest compliment ever offered to this joint," resumed the nephew, "proceeded from a po

pular actor now living, who deemed it the ne plus ultra of epicurism. Having been a long time in London without seeing Richmond Hill, he was taken by some friends to enjoy that noble view, then in the perfection of its summer beauty. The day was fine-every thing propitious:-they led him up the hill and along the dead wall till he reached the Terrace, where the whole glorious vision burst upon him with such an overpowering effect, that he could only exclaim, in the intensity of his ecstasy, -A perfect Haunch, by Heaven!""

"You will be at Kemble's sale to-morrow, Sir Peter?" inquired Blewett.-" What!" replied the nephew," are poor John Philip's books to be sold? I shall attend certainly. I understand he possessed the first edition of Piers Plowman - The Maid's Tragedy Gammer Gurton's Needle, and

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Hoity toity!" interrupted Sir Peter; "what the deuce is the lad chattering about ?”—“ Bless me, Mr. Henry," cried Rule," you have surely seen the catalogue of the great sale in Mincing-lane,-1714 bales of Pernambuco cotton, 419 of Maranham, 96 hogsheads and 14 tierces of Jamaica sugar, 311 bags of coffee, and 66 casks of Demerara cocoa. I believe I can favour you with a perusal of the catalogue, with all the best lots marked."" Infinitely obliged to you," replied Harry, "but I had rather undergo the lot of being knocked down myself."

"Aha!" exclaimed the Baronet, with a look of gloating delight; "now we shall get on again. Here comes the Argyle with some hot gravy;---that was a

famous invention."-" Nothing like it,” replied Harry, "in the Marquis of Worcester's whole Century. A distinguished writer desires one of our noble families to consider the name of Spenser the poet as the fairest jewel in their coronet. May we not extend the same remark to the ducal race, whose name will, by this discovery, be constantly in our mouths ?"" Ay, and whose celebrity will thus be kept up, hot and hot," added Sir Peter. 66 Egad, I'll drink their healths in a bumper, and take another slice upon the strength of it. One ought to encourage such ingenious improvements."

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"I am afraid, Sir Peter, that the best side's all gone," said Mr. Blewett, with a whine of pretended regret, which had a prospective reference to the brokerage on the indigo. "That I beg leave to deny," retorted Harry, " for it is one of the Peptic precepts, that in politics and gastronomy, the best side is that where there is most to be got, and there are still a few slices left under the bone."-" If we had a good stimulating sauce now," said the Alderman, "I could still go on."-" But there," continued the nephew, we are still nearly as deficient as we were in the time of Louis Quatorze, whose ambassador at London complained that he had been sent among a set of barbarians, who had twenty religions and only three fishsauces."-"Why, Billy," cried the Alderman to Blewett, you seem as down in the mouth as the root of my tongue ;-blue as your own indigo."-" That's a famous lot of Guatimola you have just received, Sir Peter, by the Two Sisters, Capt. Framlingham: may

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I call to take samples ?"--" We'll talk of that by and 'by, Billy: meantime take a sample of port; help yourself."" He can't help himself, poor fellow,” said Harry, "for the bottle's empty." The Baronet nodded to Rule, who instantly betook himself to a basket in the corner of the room, and began decanting another with mathematical precision. "Take care, Rule, it won't bear shaking; I have had it fourteen years in bottle."-" And port wine," observed Harry, “is like mankind-the older it gets, the more crusty it becomes, and the less will it bear being disturbed."-" A little tawney," said the uncle, smacking his lips; "I doubt whether this is out of the right bin.”—“ No, sir,” replied the nephew; "this seems to be out of the has been. Troja fuit:--but you have got some prime claret."-" Ay, ay, we'll have a touch at that after the cloth's cleared: but will nobody take another mouthful of the haunch? the meat was short, crisp, and tender, just as it ought to be."-" Capital !" ejaculated Rule with a momentary animation, succeeded by his habitual look of formality. "Then the table may be cleared," continued the Alderman: "but zooks! Harry, how comes it you never said grace before dinner ?"—" You were in such a hurry, Sir, that you forgot to ask me: it was but last week you called me a scapegrace, and I may now retort the epithet.”— "Say grace now, then, saucebox."-" I have not yet taken orders, Sir Peter."-" Yes you have, you have taken mine; so out with it." Harry compressed the benediction into five words---the cloth was removed--a bottle of Chateau Margaud was placed upon the table

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to his infinite consolation--the talk quickened with the circulation of the wine, and many good things were uttered which we regret that we cannot commemorate without travelling out of the record, as our subject ceased with the dinner, being expressly confined to the "Memoirs of a Haunch of Mutton."

WHAT LIFE TO CHOOSE.

"Not to know at large of things remote
From use, obscure and subtle; but to know
That which before us lies in daily life,
Is the prime wisdom."

Paradise Lost.

"WHEN I look round upon the material world," says a Pagan writer," and observe the ineffable beauty and harmony of all its arrangements, the magnificent machinery of the heavenly bodies, the unerring precision with which they perform their majestic evolutions, as well as the regular succession of seasons and interchange of elements, by which the earth is maintained in undiminished splendour and fertility, I recognise on all sides the power and the presence of a benignant Deity: but when I direct my observation towards the moral world, and reflect that the creation, the object, and the final conclusion of all this glorious pageant, have been hitherto unrevealed to us, and threaten to remain involved in impenetrable obscurity; when I observe the confusion of principles, with the