often under circumstances of peculiar difficulty. I have
heard, from the best authority, that military men have also been equally
successful, although they have not so often been called into "particular
service." By the bye, particular service is all done at the same price
as general service in his Majesty's navy, which is rather unfair, as we
are obliged to find our own red tape, pens, ink, and stationery.

As I was walking on the glacis with a friend, he pointed out to me at a
window an enormous fat man smoking his pipe, and told me that he had
been in the Dutch service under William of Orange; but not being a very
good hand at a forced march, he had been reduced with others to
half-pay. He had not been many months in retirement when he went to the
palace, and requested an audience of his Majesty, and, when admitted,
stated that he had come to request that his Majesty would be pleased to
put him again upon full pay. His Majesty raised many objections, and
stated his inability to comply with his request; upon which the
corpulent officer exclaimed, embracing with his arms as far as he could,
his enormous paunch, "My God! your Majesty, how can you imagine that I
can fill this big belly of mine with only my half-pay?" This
_argumentum ad ventrem_ so tickled King William, that he was put on
_full pay unattached_, and has continued so ever since. The first
instance I ever heard of a _man_ successfully pleading as ladies do at
the Old Bailey.

It is hard for a wanderer from childhood like me, to find out anything
new or interesting. I have travelled too much and have seen too much--I
seldom now admire. I draw comparisons, and the comparison drawn between
the object before my eyes, and that in my mind's eye, is unfortunately
usually in favour of the latter. He who hath visited so many climes,
mingled with so many nations, attempted so many languages, and who has
hardly anything left but the North Pole or the crater of Vesuvius to
choose between; if he still longs for something new, may well cavil at
the pleasures of memory as a mere song. In proportion as the memory is
retentive, so is decreased one of the greatest charms of existence--
novelty. To him who hath seen much, there is little left but
comparison, and are not comparisons universally odious? Not that I
complain, for I have a resource--I can fly to imagination--quit this
every-day world, and in the region of fiction create new scenes and
changes, and pe