'I've seen it, sir, as well as you, And must again affirm it blue; At leisure I the beast surveyed Extended in the cooling shade.' ''Tis green, 'tis green, sir, I assure ye.' 'Green!' cries the other in a fury: 'Why, sir, d' ye think I've lost my eyes?' ''Twere no great loss,' the friend replies; 'For if they always serve you thus, You'll find them but of little use.' So high at last the contest rose, From words they almost came to blows: When luckily came by a third; To him the question they referred: And begged he'd tell them, if he knew, Whether the thing was green or blue. 'Sirs,' cries the umpire, 'cease your pother; The creature's neither one nor t' other. I caught the animal last night, And viewed it o'er by candle-light: I marked it well, 'twas black as jet-- You stare--but sirs, I've got it yet, And can produce it.'--'Pray, sir, do; I'll lay my life the thing is blue.' 'And I'll be sworn, that when you've seen The reptile, you'll pronounce him green.' 'Well, then, at once to ease the doubt,' Replies the man, 'I'll turn him out: And when before your eyes I've set him, If you don't find him black, I'll eat him.' He said; and full before their sight Produced the beast, and lo!--'twas white. Both stared, the man looked wondrous wise-- 'My children,' the chameleon cries, (Then first the creature found a tongue,) 'You all are right, and all are wrong: When next you talk of what you view, Think others see as well as you: Nor wonder if you find that none Prefers your eyesight to his own.' DR JAMES GRAINGER. This writer possessed some true imagination, although his claim to immortality lies in the narrow compass of one poem--his 'Ode to Solitude.' Little is known of his personal history. He was born in 1721 --belonging to a gentleman's family in Cumberland. He studied medicine, and was for some time a surgeon connected with the army. When the peace came, he established himself in London as a medical practitioner. In 1755, he published his 'Solitude,' which found many admirers, including Dr Johnson, who pronounced its opening lines 'very noble.' He afterwards indited several other pieces, wrote a translation of Tibullus, and became one of the critical staff of the _Monthly Review_. He was unable, however, through all these labours to secure a competence, and, in 1759, he sought the West Indies. In St Christopher's he commenced practising as a physician, and married the Governor's daughter, who brought him a fortune. He wrote a poem entitled 'The Sugar-cane.' This was sent over to London in MS., and was read at Sir Joshua Reynold's table to a literary coterie, who, according to Boswell, all burst out into a laugh when, after much blank-verse pomp, the poet began a new paragraph thus-- 'Now, Muse, let's sing of _rats_! And what increased the ridicule was, that one of the company, slily overlooking the reader, found that the word had been originally 'mice,' but had been changed to rats as more dignified.