George Selwyn one day dining at the Duke of Richmond’s, a French marquis was declaiming on the ingenuity of his countryman; “who,” he said, “were de grande artistes for de modes and de fashions, _pour tout le monde_. For instance,” said he, “look at de roffel (_ruffle_), dat fine ornament for de hand and for de breast: de Frenchman invent it, and all de oder nations in Europe quickly adopt de same plan.” “True,” replied Mr. Selwyn, “we allow that your countrymen have great merit in invention; but you must at the same time admit, that, though the English are not an inventive, they are at least an improving people: for example, to the very articles which you mention they have made a very important and useful addition.” “_Les Anglois_, Mistare Selvin,” returned the Frenchman, stroking and pulling down the ruffles on his breast and hands, “are, sans doute, ver clevar men; _mais je ne connois pas quelle_ improvement dey could make to de roffel; _que ce la, Monsieur?_” “Why, by adding a _shirt_ to it,” replied Selwyn. PETER THE GREAT. A Russian officer, named Valensky, who had a command in the Persian expedition, had once been beaten by the Emperor Peter’s order, mistaking him for another. “Well,” said Peter, “I am sorry for it, but you will deserve it one day or other, and then remind me that you are in arrears with me;” which accordingly happened upon that very expedition, and he was excused. SHERIDAN AND THE WESTMINSTER VOTER. As Mr. Sheridan was coming up to town in one of the public coaches for the purpose of canvassing Westminster, at the time when Paull was his opponent, he found himself in company with two Westminster electors. In the course of the conversation, one of them asked the other to whom he meant to give his vote? When his friend replied, “To Paull, certainly; for though I think him but a shabby sort of fellow, I would vote for any one rather than that rascal Sheridan!” “Do you know Sheridan?” asked the stranger. “Not I, sir,” answered the gentleman, “nor should I wish to know him.” The conversation dropped here; but when the party alighted to breakfast, Sheridan called aside the one gentleman, and said,-- “Pray who is that very agreeable friend of yours? He is one of the pleasantest fellows I ever met with, and I should be glad to know his name?” “His name is Mr. T----: he is an eminent lawyer, and resides in Lincoln’s Inn Fields.” Breakfast over, the party resumed their seats in the coach; soon after which, Sheridan turned the discourse to the law. “It is,” said he, “a fine profession. Men may rise from it to the highest eminence in the state; and it gives vast scope to the display of talent: many of the most virtuous and noble characters recorded in our history have been lawyers. I am sorry, however, to add, that some of the greatest rascals have been lawyers; but of all the rascals of lawyers I ever heard of, the greatest is one Mr. T----, who lives in Lincoln’s Inn Fields.” “I am Mr. T----,” said the gentleman.