he came he was admitted, and, on the
letter being opened, what was the surprise of the family on finding within
300 scudi (L62), with the words, "For the advocate ...--Pius IX.," in the
pontiff's own handwriting.

Dr. Glynn was remarkable for many acts of kindness to poor persons. He had
attended a sick family in the fens near Cambridge for a considerable time,
and had never thought of any recompense for his skill and trouble but the
satisfaction of being able to do good. One day he heard a noise on the
college staircase, and his servant brought him word that the poor woman
from the fens waited upon him with a _magpie_, of which she begged his
acceptance. This at first a little discomposed the doctor. Of all presents,
a magpie was the least acceptable to him, as he had a hundred loose things
about his rooms, which the bird, if admitted, was likely to make free with.
However, his good nature soon returned: he considered the woman's
intention, and ordered her to be shown in. "I am obliged to you for
thinking of me, good woman," said he, "but you must excuse my not taking
your bird, as it would occasion me a great deal of trouble." "Pray,
doctor," answered the woman, "do, pray, be pleased to have it. My husband,
my son, and myself have been long consulting together in what way we could
show our thankfulness to you, and we could think of nothing better than to
give you our favourite bird. We would not part with it to any other person
upon earth. We shall be sadly hurt if you refuse our present." "Well, well,
my good woman," said Dr. Glynn, "if that is the case, I must have the bird;
but do you, as you say you are so fond of it, take it back again, and keep
it for me, and I will allow you eighteenpence a week for the care of it. I
shall have the pleasure of seeing it every time I come." This allowance Dr.
G. punctually paid as long as the bird lived.

BOOKS.

An Odd Fault.--It is said that when the learned Humphrey Prideaux offered
his Life of Mahomet to the bookseller, he was desired to leave the copy
with him for a few days, for his perusal. The bookseller said to the doctor
at his return, "Well, Mr. What's your Name, I have perused your manuscript;
I don't know what to say of it; I believe I shall venture to print it; the
thing is well enough; but I could wish there were a little more _humour_ in
it." This story is otherwise told in a note in Swift's works, where the
book is said to have been Prideaux's "Conne