ward negligence which clings to genius, did wrong to
his friend in publishing an edition of his "Histoire Naturelle" without
the dissections. Yet such a step, discountenanced by all the liberal
body of science, was forgiven by the philosophic and gentle Daubenton;
and Buffon made atonement for his aberration, by re-uniting himself to
the companion of his childhood, the participator in his studies, and the
preceptor of his genius.

H.

* * * * *

STORY ON A MARCH.

An officer in India, whose stock of table-linen had been completely
exhausted during the campaign,--either by wear or tear or accident,--had
a few friends to dine with him. The dinner being announced to the party,
seated in the _al fresco_ drawing-room of a camp, the table appeared
spread with eatables, but without the usual covering of a cloth. The
master, who, perhaps, gave himself but little trouble about these
matters, or who probably relied upon his servant's capacity in the art
of borrowing, or, at all events, on his ingenuity on framing an excuse,
inquired, with an angry voice, why there was no table-cloth. The answer
was, "Massa not got;" with which reply, after apologizing to his guests,
he was compelled, for the present, to put up. The next morning he called
his servant, and rated him soundly, and perhaps beat him, (for I lament
to say that this was too much the practice with European masters in
India,) for exposing his poverty to the company; desiring him, another
time, if similarly circumstanced, to say that all the table-cloths were
gone to the wash. Another day, although the table appeared clothed in
the proper manner, the spoons, which had probably found their way to the
bazar, perhaps to provide the very articles of which the feast was
composed, were absent, whether with or without leave is immaterial.
"Where are all the spoons?" cried the apparently enraged master. "Gone
washerman, sar!" was the answer. Roars of laughter succeeded, and a
teacup did duty for the soup-ladle. The probable consequence of this
unlucky exposure of the domestic economy of the host, namely, a sound
drubbing to the poor maty-boy, brings to my mind an anecdote which,
being in a story-telling vein, I cannot resist the temptation of
introducing. It was related to me, with great humour, by one of the
principals in the transaction, whose candour exceeded his fear of shame.
He had been in the habit of beating his servants, till one in p