respective basket. They place themselves at the distance of two or three yards from each other; they turn their backs, and take their meal in profound silence.

The custom of drinking, at different hours from those assigned for eating, is to be met with amongst many savage nations. It was originally begun from necessity. It became an habit, which subsisted even when the fountain was near to them.. A people transplanted,' observes our ingenious philosopher, preserve in another climate, modes of living which relate to those from whence they originally came. It is thus the Indians of Brazil scrupulously abstain from eating when they drink, and from drinking when they eat,'

When neither decency or politeness are known, the man who invites his friends to a repast, is greatly embarrassed to testify his esteem for his guests, and to present them with some amusement; for the savage guest imposes on him this obligation. Amongst the greater part of the American Indians, the host is continually on the watch to solicit them to eat, but touches nothing himself. In New France, he wearies himself with singing, to divert the company while they

eat.

When civilization advances, we wish to show our confidence to our friends: we treat them as relations; and it is said that, in China, the master of the house, to give a mark of his politeness, absents himself while

his guests regale themselves at his table with undisturbed revelry.

The demonstrations of friendship, in a rude state, have a savage and gross character, which it is not a little curious to observe. The Tartars pull a man by the ear, to press him to drink; and they continue tormenting him till he opens his mouth. It is then they clap their hands and dance before him.

No customs seem more ridiculous than those practised by the Kamtschadale, when he wishes to make another his friend. He first invites him to eat. The host and his guest strip themselves in a cabin, which is heated to an uncommon degree. While the guest devours the food with which they serve him, the other continually stirs the fire. The stranger must bear the excess of the heat as well as of the repast. He vomits ten times before he will yield; but, at length, obliged to acknowledge himself overcome, he begins to compound matters. He purchases a moment's respite by a present of cloaths or dogs; for his host threatens to heat the cabin, and to oblige him to eat till he dies. The stranger has the right of retaliation allowed to him; he treats in the same manner, and exacts the same presents. Should his host not accept the invitation of his guest, whom he has so handsomely regaled, he would come and inhabit his cabin till he had obtained from him the presents he had in so singular a manner given to him,

For this extravagant custom a curious reason has been alledged. It is meant to put the person to a trial whose friendship is sought. The Kamtschadale, who is at the expense of the fires and the repast, is desirous to know if the stranger has the strength to support pain with him, and if he is generous enough to share with him some part of his property. While the guest is employed on his meal, he continually heats the cabin to an insupportable degree; and, for a last proof of the stranger's constancy and attachment, he exacts more cloaths and more dogs. The host passes through the same ceremonies in the cabin of the stranger; and he shows, in his turn, with what degree of fortitude he can defend his friend. It is thus the most singular customs would appear simple, if it were pos sible for the philosopher to contemplate them on the spot.

As a distinguishing mark of their esteem, the Negroes of Ardra drink out of one cup at the same time. The king of Loango eats in one house, and drinks in another.

A Kamtschadale kneels before his guest; he cuts an enormous slice from a sea calf ; he crams it entire into the mouth of his friend, furiously crying out- Tana !'-There! and, cutting away what hangs about his lips, snatches and swallows it with avidity.

A barbarous magnificence attended the feasts of the ancient monarchs of France, We are informed that after their coronation or consecration, when they sat at table, the nobility served them on horseback.

THE FATHER OUTWITTED.

A SPANISH INTERLUDE-BY LOPE DE VEGA.

Enter Guadarrama from his house, with his sword drawn, and dragging out Lorenzo.

Guad. COME along, rascal! Tell me the truth, infamous villain !

Lor. Famous! Famous yourself, Sir. Take care what you say. Don't call me

famous!

Guad. Tell me directly scoundrel, whom you took that letter to from my daughter? Lor. Took it to! Why I took it to Now listen-I took it to

confounded deal of curiosity.

You have a

Guad. Have you a mind to be strangled, dog? (collars him.)

Lor. No, truly-Take care what you do -Hold a little- -My young mistress gave me the letter-mind-she gave it to meand I took it.

Guad. Who the devil doubts that! But where ?

Lor. She said to me, says she, Lorenzo, says she, there-there's a rial for thee; and do thou take that letter thou knowest where. Guad. Oh, ho! What, she paid you beforehand then and you, like a good-fornothing knave, are plotting with my daughter to dishonour me.

:

Lor. Do you think so? Lord, Sir, we can't dishonour you.

Guad. How so?

Lor. Because, Sir, you have no honour. Guad. You impudent dog! Have you a mind to have my sword up your back-bone? Lør. Who, me! mercy forbid! Oh lord, **Sir! I'll tell you all, if you will but hide that horrible spit !

Guad. Indeed but I will not.-Come, Sir; come to the point!

Lor. Well, well, Sir! Well-Pray, Sirdo you know-your brother

Guad. There's a pretty question!-To be sure I do, booby.

Lor. Oh, well-But the-letter was not for him.-Pray, Sir-do you know

Guad. Do I know the devil! I want to know nobody but my daughter's gallant.

Lor. Tch, tch-Lord, Sir-why didn't you say so at first. I should then have told you very frankly that I know--I know-that is to say I know nothing of him.

Guad. You don't, hound! Stop, stop a little-I'll warrant me I have a secret will make you find the use of your tongue.

(beats him.)

Lor. Oh, lord !—Oh, lørd! Oh, lord !— Murder!-Fire !-Help, help !-Oh, my wicked master! He has killed me-he has knocked out my brains! Oh, oh !

Enter a Merchant.

Merch. Hey-day !-What is the matter here, Signior Guadarrama? What's all this