A certain Oxford D.D. at the head of a college, lately expected a party of maiden ladies, his sisters and others, to visit him from the country. They were strangers in Oxford, therefore, like another Bayard, he was anxious to meet them on their arrival and _gallant_ them to his College. This, however, was to him, so little accustomed _to do the polite to the ladies_, an absolute event, and it naturally formed his _prime_ topic of conversation for a month previously. This provoked some of the Fellows of his College to _put a hoax upon him_, the most forward in which was one Mr. H----, a _puritan_ forsooth. Accordingly, a note was concocted and sent to the Doctor, in the name of the ladies, announcing, that they _had arrived at_ THE _Inn in Oxford_. "The Inn!" exclaimed the Doctor, on perusing it; "Good God! how am I to know _the_ Inn?" However, after due preparation, off he set, in full canonicals, hunting for his belles and _the_ Inn! The Star, Mitre, Angel, all were searched; at last, the Doctor, both tired and irritated, began to smell a rat! The idea of a hoax flashed upon his mind; he hurried to his lodgings, at his College, where the whole truth flashed upon him like a _new light_, and the window of his room being open, which overlooked the Fellows' garden, he saw a group of them rubbing their hands in high glee, and the ringleader, Mr. H----, in the midst: he was so roused at the sight, that, leaning from the window, he burst out with--"H----! you puritanical son of a bitch!" It is needless to add, that the words, acting like a charm, quickly dissolved their council: but the Doctor, too amiable to remember what was not meant as an affront, himself afterwards both joined in and enjoyed the laugh created by the joke. * * * * * MORE THAN ONE GOOD SAYING Is attributed to the non-juring divine, celebrated son of Oxon, and excellent English historian, Thomas Carte, who, falling under the suspicions of the Government, as a favourer of the Pretender, was imprisoned at the time the Habeas Corpus Act was suspended, in 1744. Whilst under examination by the Privy Council, the celebrated Duke of Newcastle, then minister, asked him, "If he were not a bishop?" "No, my Lord Duke," replied Carte, "there are no bishops in England, but what are made by your Grace; and I am sure I have no reason to expect that honour." Walking, soon after he was liberated, in the streets of London, during a heavy shower of _rain_, he was plied with, "A coach, your reverence?" "No, honest friend," was his answer, "this is not a _reign_ for me to ride in." * * * * * HORACE WALPOLE A SAINT.