To the memory of “Lord Sandwich” belongs the name of that edible. Being during his administration (as was very usual with him), at a gambling house, he had, in the fascination of play, for more than five and twenty hours forgotten fatigue and hunger, when suddenly, feeling disposed to break his fast, though still riveted to the table, he called to bid some one bring him any thing that was to be had to eat, which happened to prove a slice of beef, and two pieces of bread. Placing them together for the sake of expedition, he devoured them with the greatest relish. The most ecstatic encomiums published his discovery, and giving it his name, bequeathed it as a memento to his country, as one of the most important acts of his administration. ❦ [Sidenote: Catherine II.] During the splendid progress which the Empress Catherine II. made through her dominions, she was one day expressing her opinion of the various surmises her journey would create, and the different causes that would be assigned for it at the several courts of Europe; adding, “this Cabinet of Petersburgh, which is now floating down the Dneiper, must be considered of great importance, since it affords so much occupation to many others.” “Yes, Madam,” replied the Prince de Ligne, “and yet I don’t know one that is so small; for its whole dimensions are but a few inches, it extends but from one temple to the other, and from the root of the nose to that of the hair.” ❦ Addison amused himself with inventing fourteen years of the Pretender’s reign. The fourth year has the following passage: “He ordered the Lord High Treasurer to pay off the debts of the crown, which had been contracted since his accession to the throne, particularly a _milk_ score of three years’ standing.” ❦ [Sidenote: Duke of Monmouth.] Arguments in favour of the belief that the Duke of Monmouth was _not_ executed, as declared, but suffered to escape; an individual who was under sentence of death having been induced to pass for this unfortunate prince. Hume says, Après son exécution ses partisans conservaient l’espérance de le revoir à leur tête; ils se flattèrent que le prisonnier qu’on avait exécuté n’était pas le Duc de Monmouth, mais qu’un de ses amis, qui lui ressemblait beaucoup, avait eu le courage de mourir pour lui. Sainte Foix, in a letter on the subject of the “Masque de Fer,” dated Amsterdam, 1768, says, “Il est certain que le bruit courut dans Londres qu’un officier de l’armée de Monmouth, qui lui ressemblait beaucoup, fait prisonnier et sûr d’être condamné au mort, avait reçu la proposition de passer pour lui avec autant de joie que si on lui avait accordé la vie, et que, sur ce bruit, une grande dame, ayant gagné ceux qui pouvaient ouvrir son cercueil, et lui ayant regardé le bras droit, s’écria, ‘Ah! ce n’est pas le Duc de Monmouth!’”