Such are the characteristics of the prototype of Captain Clutterbuck, as we have gathered them from persons who have been acquainted with him, natives of the same town. We learn that there is another person of the same description in Melrose, named Captain T——t, who was really a Captain, but of a man-of-war, instead of a regiment. May he not have been the _Captain Doolittle_ of “The Monastery”? The grave-digger of Kennaquhair, who has the honour of speaking a few words in that work, must have been John Martin, who was professor of the same trade in Melrose. He is now dead. Mr. David Kyle, a very respectable and worthy man, who kept the Cross Keys Inn at Melrose, is also dead. He was in the custom of keeping an album in his house, for the amusement of his guests; though we cannot say as to the truth of his having had a copy of the “great Dr. Samuel Johnson’s _Tower_ to the Hebrides, in his parlour window, wi’ the twa boards torn aff.” In the album, to which we had access, is the following very curious document, among much nonsense:— EPITAPH ON MR. LITTLE, A JOLLY FELLOW. “Alas! how chop-fallen now!”—_Blair._ “Little’s the man lies buried here, For little was his soul; His belly was the warehouse vat Of many a flowing bowl. O Satan, if to thy domains His little soul has hoppit, Be sure ye guard your whiskey casks, Or faith, they will be toppit! Chain, chain him fast, the drucken loon, For, Satan, ye’ve nae notion O’ Jockey’s drouth;—if he get loose, By Jove! he’ll drink the ocean!”