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 coming up, heartily shook our hero by the hand, and expressed his joy at seeing him. This was a little man, seemingly about thirty, five feet and an inch in height, tolerably well proportioned, so as in person to be an abridged edition of a man, but with a countenance grave and solemn. Without relaxing the serious turn of his features, he said to Hamilton, "I am so happy to meet you, we shall have such food for remark and observation." "Ah! my friend Scribble," said Hamilton, "I had no expectations of meeting you in this place; we shall have such criticism and satire, now that you are here: but come, Dicky, go home and sup with us, and give some account of yourself." He accordingly introduced him to his mother, and the other party in general, but more particularly to his friend John Mortimer. After they had reached their