THINGS AND THOUGHTS,

FOUND HERE AND THERE.

BHURTPORE NOTIONS OF BRITISH GENEROSITY.—The young Rajah gave a dinner in the evening to the Commander-in-Chief, and entertained us with nantcbes and mimics. This latter amusement, which appears to be the only approach to dramatic exhibition among the ludians, is, generally speaking, a tissue of noisy, vulgar ribaldry ; but it is sometimes amusing, even to Europeans. I remember one occasion on which the Begun Sumroo entertained our party with a similar pantomime, when we were much diverted. It was just after the capture of Bhurtpore. The dramatis personce of the scene enacted were an English prize-agent, and a poor peasant of Bhurtpore. The former wore an immense cocked-hat and sword ; the latter was stark naked, with the ex- ception of a most scanty dootee, or waist-cloth. The prize-agent stops him, and demands his jewels and money. The half-starved wretch protests his po- verty, and appeals to his own miserable appearance as the proof. The English- man, upon this, makes him a furious speech, well garnished with G-d d—mns, seizes on the trembling Bhurtporean, and, determined not to leave him without baying extracted something, from him, takes out a pair of scissors, cuts off his long shaggy hair close to his skull, crams it into his pocket, and exit swearing. —Mundy's Pen and Pencil Sketches in India.

AMERICAN DRIVING.—When the mail in which I was travelling arrived at the north branch of the Potomac, we found it so swollen by the late rains that a passage seemed not only dangerous but impracticable. The coachman, how- ever, a cool and determined fellow, crossed over on horseback ; he then returned, placed one of the passengers on the near leader, and resolutely drove Ids four horses into the torrent, which was sixty or,seventy yards in width, running like a millrace, and so deep that it reached nearly up to the backs of the horses. I was with him on the box. The inside passengers pulled off their coats and prepared to swim. The water forced itself into the coach ; but we reached the opposite bank without disaster. On the preceding evening the coachman had only prevented the mail from being entirely carried away by turning the horses' heads down the stream, so that the coach and horses were swimming for nearly thirty yards.— Vigne's Six Months in America.

PARENT AND It is thus," replied her father, "she pays me back for all I have endured. It is a sweet consciousness to know that we make even one creature happy. When I feel this little heart beat tranquilly against mine, when I see her lay her contented head thus upon my bosom, I feel I do not live in vain. She is a precious legacy bequeathed to me by an angel, that in life shed sunshine upon my path, and even in death did not desert me, since she left me the memory of her love ; and this little flower, to be watered by my tears and pay me with its smiles." There were sonic drops upon the yellow hair of Alice : they had fallen from her father's eves. She looked up on teeling them and immediately the little warm white Land came. forth from his bosom, and went caressingly to his face ; and then the mouth, pure as the yet unopened bud, was raised with the violet eyes, as if she brought a balm to sorrow, and thought he wanted but her kiss to make him happy.— 1{ moan's Love.

SKETCH OF A SPANISH GUERRILL A.—The general appearance of the Guer- rillas is described by a British officer as "horribly grotesque ; any thing of a jacket, any thing of a cap, any thing of a sword, pistol, or carbine, and any thing of a horse."—Southey's Peninsular War.

Tian MODEL OF A PRIVATE TUTOR.—The tutor came to live in the house, and was thought every thing a tutor should be ; Lord Arlington liked him, and be liked Lord Arlington ; and there was the most perfectly good understanding between them. But it was unfortunately too good an understanding, and one which enabled each to pursue his own course and to do as he liked without constraining and interfering with the other. So the tutor practised the flute, and botanized and sentimentalized, and mused and reveried, and wrote verses on the first snowdrop and the last oak leaf, and indulged the aspirations of his "fine mind " without bestowing a very lavish attention on the still Slier mind of his pupil. The pupil meanwhile would he fishing and rabbit-catching, and coursing and shooting, and following the natural bent of lively, healthy, active boyhood, little checked by the tutor, who found more leisure for his own pur- suits; and never checked, except for tearing his coat or dirtying his hands, by the fond, and not very intelligent mother, who smiled at the colour on his cheek when he came in warm with exercise, and only said it was "so good for him! " —Arlington.

PATS OF BUTTER ALIVE.—In the cool of the afternoon, we strolled out for an hour in the gram-fields, and shot several brace of quails, which, at this season, are like little flying pats of butter ! I have heard it averred that these delicate bonnes-boucles are sometimes so fat in the grain-season, that when they are shot, they burst, from their own weight, as they fall on the parched ground.— 3fundy's Pen and Pencil Sketches in India.

ROYAL DISCRIMiNATION.—I shall begin with General Johnson, whom I found exercising the functions of governor on my arrival at Minorca. Among the men, as I said before, he was known by the name of the Fighting Colonel ; but the ladies distinguished him by the more flattering appellative of the Hand- some Johnson. Although of a fiery and irritable temper when provoked, he was in ordinary society one of the most pleasant and agreeable fellows in the world.. As 1 had served with him in Germany during the greater part of the war, I had the satisfaction of finding a welcome and a home in his house on my arrival at Minorca. One of the circumstances which gave rise to his less agree- able nickname took place under the observation of royalty itself. Towards the conclusion of the reign of George-the Second, large wigs were still in fashion; and Johnson having gone to the theatre on an evening when the King was to be present, he unfortunately involved himself in a quarrel; when, with that haste and violence for which he was so remarkable, he pulled off the wig of his an- tagonist, and threw it on the stage. It so happened,. that his commanding officer, General Conway, one of the gentlemen of the King's Bedchamber, was standing at the moment behind his Majesty's chair; and to him the King turned round, and asked who it was who had committed the act of violence. General Conway replied, that he feared it was an officer of his regiment, Major Johnson : on which the King observed, in a deep tone of resentment, " And a Major he shall remain." Soon after the affair in the theatre, Ma'or Johnson went to join his regiment at Manchester, which was then considered a Jacobite town. I am not aware of the corresponding title in modern nomenclature, but I believe-that the terms " democrat" and " radical" have each had their day. Going one evening to the assembly, he found the favourite tunes consisted of those Jacobite airs which, although now admired for their intrinsic value, were at that time I applauded or condemned as they happened to lismonize or to clash with the .1 political feelings of the audience. Soon after Major Johnson had entered the assembly-room, " Over the water to Charlie," or some equally offensive tune,. was struck up by the orchestra; when the Major, unable any longer to restrain. himself, called out to the musicians to stop ; and on their yielding obedience, re- quired them to play " God save the King." On this interruption, the Master of the Ceremonies, a man of some note in the town, although tinged with sup- posed sentiments of disloyalty, for which his townsmen were understood to be distinguished, strutted up to the Major, and asked if he, an entire stranger in the place, persisted in making a demand which was calculated to interrupt the amusements of the evening. Major Johnson could ill brook the supercilious and authoritative air with which this remonstrance was addressed to him ; and taking the Master of the Ceremonies by the nose, he twirled hint round until the poor little man was hustled away by sonic of his friends; on which Johnson, turning round to the orchestra, again required them to play the King's An- them. To this demand there was sonic demur on the part of the musicians ; on which the Major snatched up the, great bass fiddle, and applied it with such good-will to the head of one of the delinquents, as to leave him standing amidst. the shattered fragments of the instrument. This new adventure was speedily communicated to General Conway ; who having found an opportunity of stating. it to the King, made it the means of restoring Major Johnson to the royal favour ; and from that period his promotion proceeded in the ordinary course.— Memoirs of Sir James Campbell.

FAME.—We reckon it a striking fact in Johnson's history, this carelessness of his to " Fame; " as if it were a quite priceless matter—the grand ultimatum, and heavenly Constantine's Banner they had to follow, and conquer under. Thy " fame ! " unhappy mortal, where will it and thou both be in some fifty years? Shakspeare himself has lasted but two hundred ; Homer (partly by accident) three thousand ; and does not already an ETERNITY encircle every me and every thee? Cease, then, to sit feverishly hatching on that " fame" of thine, and flapping and shrieking with fieice hisses, like brood-goose on her last egg, if man shall ur dare approach it ! Quarrel not with me, hate me not, my brother ; make what thou cant of thy egg, and welcome : God. knows I will not steal it; I believe it to be addle.—Fraser's Tile INDOMITABILITY OF THE FLY.—Imagine the endeavour to tame a fly ! It is obvious that there is no getting at him : lie does not comprehend you ; he7 knows nothing about you ; it is doubtful, in spite of his large eyes, whether he even sees you, at least to any purpose of recognition. How capriciously and provokingly he glides hither and thither ! What angles and diagrams he de- scribes in his locomotion, seemingly without any purpose ! He will peg away at your sugar, but stop him who can when he has done with it. Thumping (if you could get some fairy stick that should do it with impunity) would have no effect on a creature who shall bump his head half the morning at a pane of glass, and never learn that there is no getting through it. Solitary imprison- ment would be lost on the incomprehensible little wretch, who can stand still with as much pertinacity as he can bustle about, and will stick a whole day in one postu0... The best thing to be said of him is, that he is as fond of cleaning himself as a cat, doing it much in the same manner ; and that he often rubs his hands together with an appearance of great energy and satisfaction.—Near Monthly Magazine for May.

LATEST NEWS FROM CANADA.—Wheat at the Canadas, according to the dis- tance from the place of export, varies from as. to 5s. 6d. the bushel ; beef (winter), 2W. the pound, summer, aid. to 4d. ; mutton in the winter is 2P. the pound, in summer it is a little dearer potatoes arc from Is. to 2s. the bushel ; a goose or a turkey may be purchased 2s. or 2s. 6d., and a couple of fowls for Is. or Is. Gd. Ship-carpenters can earn from 5s. to 7s. a-day ; labourers, 2s. Gd. to 4s. a-day; handicraft tradesmen, from 58. to 7s. 6d. a-day ; house-servants re- ceive from 26s. to 36s. a month, with food ; females from 15s. to 30s. a month, with food. In Quebec and Montreal, excellent board and lodging may he ob- tained in the principal hotels and.boartling-houses at 20s. to 30s. a-week. A labourer or mechanic would pay 7s. to 9s. 6d. a-week, for which lie will get tea or coffee, with meat for breakfast, a good dinner, and supper at night. An ex- cellent private dwelling-house may be rented at from 100/. to 1501. a year um- furnished ; and shops, according to their situation, at from 301. to 1001. A farm of 100 acres, with 20 or 00 acres clear, with a dwelling--house, may he pur- chased in the Canadas for 1501. to 300/, according to the situation.— Vignc's Six Months in America.

VALUABLE CERTIFICATE OF CHARACTER.—WO were pestered by sellers of coins, who pretended to have dug them out of the ruins of Katioge, but who had probably manufactured them for the occasion. One old fellow, to induce me to purchase, showed me sonic certificates of character which he had obtained from English travellers, but which, being written in English, he could not read him- self. Almost the first which be put into my hand ran thus—" The bearer is a d—d old rascal; kick him out of camp."—Mundy's Pen and Pencil Sketches in India.

A GERMAN PRINCE.—Ay, it is of the kind that sounds magnificent, and used to petrify us islanders ;—an estate that takes ten days to drive through— ten chateaux, each one more vast and uncomfortable than the other—a thousand gamekeepers—ten thousand farming-servants—half a million of tenants—a body- guard—power to hang his own thieves—and a thousand times more sheep anti oxen than Job had the second time. All this sounds grand enough to take moderate people's breath away; but give me compact, available English wealth. That is the wealth to be enjoyed. This feudal splendour is fit only to be stared at and talked about.—Arlington.

THE ANCIENT AND THE MODERN NOVEL.—The flimsy, dull novel, full of fashion, etiquette, and politics, is superseding the fine old legend devoted to dis- closing the heart and painting mind and manners. I like to have the light of fancy let in upon me through the stained glass of a gothic window, with its deep tints, its rich and mingled hues, instead of catching it through plate glass and paltry frames. I like to behold beauty in "purple and pall," with her high and proud consciousness of her own power, rather than your questionable dames flirting in tinsel and gossamer gauze, as light and as specious as their own character.— Woman's Love.

D uMONT'S LAST WORDS ON.BENTHAM.—What I most admire is, the man- ner in which Mr. Bentham has laid down his principle, the development lie has given to it, and the rigorous logic of his induction from it. The first book of the Treatise on Legislation, is an art of reasoning upon this principle, of distinguishing it from the false notions which usurp itsplace, of analyzing evil, and of showing the strength of the legislator in the four sanctions—natural, moral, political, and religious. The whole is new, at least with regard to me,- thud and arrangement; and they who have attacked the principle generally, have taken good care not to make a special attack upon the detailed exposition of the system. Egotism and materialism !—how absurd ! Nothing but vile declama-. tion and insipid mummery! Look into the catalogue of pleasures, for.the rank which the author assigns to those of benevolence, and see how he finds in them the germ of all social virtues! His admirable Treatise upon the Indirect Means of Preventing Crime, contains, among others, three chapters sufficient to pulverize all those miserable objections. One is on the cultivation of bene- volence, anothor on the proper use of the motive of honour, and the third on the importance of religion when maintained in a proper direction;—that is to say, of that religion which conduces to the benefit of society. I am convinced that Fenelon himself would have put his name to every word of this doctrine. Com. eider the nature and number of Mr. Bentham's works ; see what a wide range he has taken in Legislation ; and is it not acknowledged, that no man has more she character of originality, independence, love of public good, disinterestedness, and noble courage in braving the dangers and persecutions which have more than once threatened his old age? His moral life is as beautiful as his intel- lectual. Mr. Bentham passes in England, whether with justice or not I am un- able to determine, for the chief, rmean the spiritual chiet, of the Radical party. His name, therefore, is not in good repute with those in power, or those who see greater dangers than advantages in a reform, especially a Radical Reform. I do not pretend to give an opinion, either for or against ; but it must he under- stood, that he has never enjoyed the favour either of Government or of the high Aristocracy ; and this must guide, even in other countries, those who desire not to commit themselves ; for Mr. Bentham's ensign leads neither to riches nor to power.-Preface to Dumont's Recollections of Mirabeau.

TRAVELLING IN INDIA. -It would, perhaps, he worth while to record, as well as I can remember, the materiel and personnel of my camp equipment ; an humble captain and single man, travelling on the most economical principles. One double-poled tent, one routce or small tent, a pill or servant's tent, two elephants, six camels, four horses, a pony, a buggy, and twenty-four servants, besides mahouts, sem:J(1ns or camel-drivers, and tent-pitchers.-Mundy's Pen and Pencil Sketches in India.

THE TERRORS OF CRITICISM.-Johnson, for his part, was no man to be killed " by a review -" concerning which matter, it was said by a benevolent person, " If any autisor can be reviewed to death, let it be, with all convenient despatch, done."-Carlisle in Fraser. [This is hard measure for the thin- skinned. None, however, now-a-days need fear being slaughtered by the critic's knife, though they may be surfeited by his currant jelly. At the time when Kcates and others were killed by an article, it must be remembered that the nature of the deadly instrument, like fire-arins among savages, was scarcely understood, and men died as much of fright as of wounds. Besides, in those times, these tribunals dealt as severely with a man's personal, moral, and family history, as with his talents or his works.] NEC's.° TITLE. -At Baltimore, whilst taking a sketch, T told- a drunken ill- favoured old nigger, that I would take his picture. He accordingly placed him-

self in attitude, and I soon hit him off with the camera-lucida. He was very much pleased, and showed the picture to his coloured friends, the slaves, who were working near me. He soon returned with an old black as ugly as him- self, and said that this man wished to have his " title" taken too.- Vi!,-ne's Six Months in America.

CHARACTERISTIC.-It is recorded of the celebrated Mr. Curran, that going to his inn early one summer morning, after a long sitting with some friends in Glasgow, he observed a man sound asleep in the kennel, his upturned face gilded with the rays of the newly-risen sun. Mr. Curran awoke the sleeper, who, like himself, had been indulging rather freely the previous night, and had no recollection of taking up the position in which he was found. Atter the first surprise was over, he thrust his hand into his pocket, where he found a quantity of small change; on discoverina.b which, with a face of the utmost compunction and alarm, he exclaimed, " Gude guide us! ha'e I been sae far left to mysel' as to change a note ?" [The story is a good enough story, but it has every feature of Joe Miller.] ANONYMOUS LETTER-WRITING.-An anonymous letter is a mode of moral murder, which, using only a pen for a poinard, and an inkstand for a bowl, poisons confidence, and stabs characters without fear of detection.

INDIAN SUPERSTITION.-On our return to camp, I found there a fine spe- cimen of those holy mendicants called fakirs; although, by the by, I apply the epithet of mendicant undeservedly to bins (as I also do most probably the term holy), as he would not take from me the money I offered. He was a pitiable object, although he had a handsome and-in spite of his downcast eyes-rather a roguish countenance. One arm was raised aloft, and having been in that po- sition for twelve years, the power of lowering it was lost ; it was withered to one• fourth of the size of its fellow, and the nails were nearly two inches long. He was about to undertake a further penance of standing on one leg for twelve more years ; after which he had some thoughts of measuring his length to Cape Comorin ! Poor misguided enthusiast-" in hope to merit heaven by making earth a hell !"-Mundy's Pen and Pencil Sketches in India.

[To measure his length to any place, means to go on all fours, and scrupu- lously placing at each move his toes where his head had been.]

NOTE-TAKING AND IDLE-TALKING.-An exception was early taken against this Life of Johnson, and all similar enterprises, which we here recommend ; and has been transmitted from critic to critic, and repeated in their several dialects, uninterruptedly ever since,-that such jottings down of careless con- versation are an infringement of social privacy ; a crime against our highest freedom, the freedom of man's intercourse with man. To this accusation, which we have read and heard oftener than enough, might it not be well foe once to offer the flattest contradiction and plea of Not at all guilty? Not that conversation is noted down, but that conversation should not deserve noting down, is the evil. Doubtless, if conversation be falsely recorded, then is it simply a lie, and worthy of being swept with all despatch to the Father of Lies. But if, on the other hand, conversation can be authentically recorded, and any one is ready for the task, let him by all means proceed with it. Let conversation be kept in remembrance to the latest date possible. Nay, should the consciousness that a man may be among us "taking notes," tend in any measure to restrict those floods of idle, insincere speech, with which the thought of mankind is well nigh drowned-were it other than the most indubitable benefit? He who speaks honestly, cares not, needs not care, though his words be preserved to remotest time; for him who speaks dishonestly, the fittest of all punishments seems to be this same, which the nature of the case provides. The dishonest speaker, not he only who purposely utters falsehoods, but he who does not purposely, and with sincere heart, utter truth, and truth alone-who babbles he knows not what, and has clapped no bridle on his tongue, but lets it run racket, ejecting chatter and futility-is among the most indubitable malefactors omitted or in- serted in the Criminal Calendar. To him that will well consider it, idle speak- ing is precisely the beginning of all hollowness, halfness, infidelity (want of faithfulness); the genial atmosphere in which rank weeds of every kind attain the mastery over noble fruits in man's life, and utterly choke them out; one of the most crying maladies of these days, and to be testified against, and in all ways to the uttermost withstood. Wise, of a wisdom far beyond our hollow depth, was that old precept, " Watch thy tongue ; out of it are the issues of life ! "-" Man is properly an incarnated word :" the word that he speaks is the man himself. Were eyes put into the head, that we might see ; or only that we might fancy, and plausibly pretend, we had seen? Was the tongue suspended there, that it might tell truly what we bad seen and make man the soul's-brother of man ; or only that it might utter vain sounds, jargon, soul-confusing, and so divide man, as by enchanted walls of darkness, from union with man? Thou who wearest that cunning heaven-made organ, a tongue, think well of this. Speak not, I passionately entreat thee, till thy thought have silently matured itself, till thou have other than mail and mad-making noises to emit : HOLD THY TONGUE (thou bast it a-holding) till some meaning lie behind, to set it wagging.- Kent Beg. ............ 4 10 .. a is carlisle on Boswell's Johnson, in Fraser's Magazine for May. Sussex Bop 4 4 .. 5 12