"this is the father's own figure; this his own "countenance; the very print of his visage, "the very sure undoubted image, the plain ex

press likeness of the noble duke." It fell out however, through over much haste, the Doctor had spoken all this before the protector came in; yet beholding him enter, he suddenly stopped in what he was saying, and began to repeat his lesson again," but see the Lord Protector, that "very noble prince," and so on. "But the peo"ple," says Speed, "were so far from crying "King Richard," that they stood as if they had "been turned into stones, for this very shameful Sermon."

PREFERMENT.

Among the daily inquiries after the health of an aged bishop of D****m, during his indisposition, no one was more sedulously punctual than the bishop of E****r, and the invalid seemed to think, that other motives than those of anxious kindness, might contribute to this solicitude. One morning he ordered the messenger to be shown into his room, and thus addressed him: "Be so good as present my compliments to my "Lord Bishop, and tell him that I am better, "much better; but that the bishop of W"has got a sore throat arising from a bad cold, if that will do."

IRISH PRIEST.

An Irish peasant complained to the catholic priest of his parish, that some person had stolen his best pig, and supplicated his reverence to help him to the discovery of the thief. The priest promised his best endeavours; and his inquiries soon leading him to a pretty correct guess as to the offender, he took the following amusing method of bringing the matter home to him. Next Sunday after the service of the day, he called out with a loud voice, fixing his eyes on the suspected individual, "Who stole Pat "Doolan's, pig?" There was a long pause, and no answer; he did not expect that there would be any, and descended from the pulpit without saying a word more. A second Sunday. arriving without the pig being restored, his reve rence, again looking steadfastly at the stubborn, purloiner, and throwing a deep note of anger. into the tone of his voice, repeated the question,. "Who stole Pat Doolan's pig? I say, who stole "" poor Pat Doolan's pig? Still there was no answer, and the question was left as before, to work its effect in secret on the conscience of the. guilty individual. The hardihood of the offender. however, exceeded all the honest priest's calcula.. tions. A third Sunday arrived, and Pat Doolan was still without his pig. Some stronger mea.

sure now became necessary. After service was performed, his reverence, dropping the question of "Who stole Pat Doolan's pig?" but still without directly accusing any one of the theft, reproachfully exclaimed, "Jimmie Doran! Jimmie Doran! you trate me with contimpt," Jimmie Doran hung down his head, and next morning the pig was found at the door of Pat Doolan's cabin.

Another Irish priest, by name Felix Macabe, author of a grammar of the English language, was expatiating from the pulpit on the reciprocal duties of the pastor and his flock, and on the account to be given on that subject at the day of final retribution. "Well, father Felix," he observed, "the great Judge will say, and how "have you fulfilled the duties of your office? "Have you neglected the charge you under"took, or supplied the wants of your parishion"ers? and I shall reply, Holy Father, I prached "to them, and I prached to them, I prayed for "their sowls, and I gave them my blessings." "Well, Father Felix and how did your flock "trate you? Did they pay you their dues and "bring you their offerings? And then you vil

lains, what am I to say?" added he, apostro

phising the congregation, "You know you do "nothing but chate me."

DOCTOR WATTS.

Dr. Watts was remarkable for his vivacity in conversation, although he was never forward in the display of it. Being one day in a coffee room with some friends, he overheard a gentleman say, "What is that the great Dr. Watts?" The Doctor who was of low stature, turned suddenly round, and with great good humour repeated a verse from one of his lyric poems, which produced a silent admiration of his modesty and talents.

Were I so tall to reach the pole
Or mete the ocean with my span,
I must be measured by my soul,

The mind's the standard of the man.

The poetical precocity of this gentleman was so remarkable, that he may absolutely be said. to have lisped in numbers. To check his propensity to rhyme, even in common conversation, his father was once about to chastise him, when the unfortunate little delinquent preferred the following petition.

Pray, father, on me pity take,'

And verses I no more will make;"

MOUNTAIN CONVENTS.

The utility of the convent of Mount St. Bernard, as a place of refuge, appeared so manifest to Bonaparte, that he endowed it with an additional estate in Lombardy, and thus considerably increased its revenues. In this he did well; for independently of the general hospitality which is exercised by the Monks, the ordinary expences of the establishment must be enormous, in a place which is inaccessible by carriages, and where a pound of wood literally bears the same price as a pound of bread. A very different system has been followed by the successors of Bonaparte.

A magnificent building which he had begun, a sort of caravansera, on the top of the Simplon, has been left half finished, but things are infinitely worse on Mont Cenis. Bonaparte had there, as well as here, constructed several houses called Refuges, at different distances, for the shelter of passengers in dangerous months, and endowed them with slight privileges, such as that of selling wines, provisions, &c. duty free. It was among the early acts of the king of Sardinia, to abrogate these, and the Refuges of Mont Cenis. are lost to the traveller.