SOON after the end of the war that was concluded by the peace of 1763, two gentlemen belonging to a corps that had returned from the Havannah, leaving their regiment in the South of England, were journeying northwards to visit the place of their nativity. Neither had in the course of their campaigns acquired opulent fortunes; but they had both made such progress in the road to wealth, that without any reasonable charge of prodigality or imprudence, in revisiting their relations they could indulge in the comforts of a postchaise. Travelling not being then effected with the modern rapidity, they proposed in a week to reach the capital of Scotland. Having set out on their expedition, they on the third day arrived at the beautiful town of Doncaster, whence they intended, after an early dinner, to proceed two stages farther. As they were ordering their repast they descried, from the windows of their apartment, a gentleman entering the inn, in whom they recognised a regimental mess-mate, the comrade of their conviviality, and the partner of their dangers. The new comer, finding fellow travellers so dear to his heart, insisted these his friends should accompany him to his native village in the same county. He could not prevail on them to deviate so materially from their northern course: he, however, succeeded in arresting its progress for several hours. Dinner had been on the table at two; at three the postillion had announced that every thing within the compass of his office was ready, but found that his fare were disposed to continue longer in their present quarters. It was seven o’clock before the gentlemen, taking the most affectionate leave of their companion, though naturally strong and active, were assisted by the landlord to their seats in the vehicle. Their friend had not accompanied them to the carriage, being left above found asleep in an elbow chair.