The following odd story is related respecting a monument in a chapel, adjoining _Stene_, a fine family seat in the north:--The sculptor, in that vile taste which seems to have originated in an unhappy design of making every thing connected with the grave revolting to our feelings, had ornamented this monument with "a very ghastly, grinning alabaster skull;" and the bishop one day expressed a wish to his domestic chaplain, Dr. Grey, that it had not been placed there. Grey, upon this, sent to Banbury for the sculptor, and consulted with him whether it was not possible to convert it into a soothing, instead of a painful object. After some consideration, the artist declared that the only thing into which he could possibly convert it was--a bunch of grapes! and accordingly, at this day, a bunch of grapes may be seen upon the monument; for the chapel, which for a time had been abandoned to the rooks and daws who built their nests among the monuments, has been repaired, and is now united to the rectory of Hinton. * * * * * It is easier to induce people to follow than to set an example--however good it may be both for themselves and others, most men have a silly squeamishness about proposing an adjournment from the dinner table. The host, fearing that his guest may take it for a token that he loves his wine better than his friends, is obliged to feign an unwillingness to leave the bottle, and, as Sponge says--"In good truth, 'tis impossible, nay, I say it is impudent, to contradict any gentleman at his own table; the president is always the wisest man in the party." "Be of our patron's mind, whate'er he says; Sleep very much, think little, and talk less; Mind neither good nor bad, nor right nor wrong, But eat your pudding, fool, and hold your tongue." MAT. PRIOR. Therefore his friends, unless a special commission be given to them for that purpose, feel unwilling to break the gay circle of conviviality, and are individually shy of asking for what almost every one wishes.--_Kitchiner_. * * * * * Though much has been done, the orthography of the Dutch language can hardly be considered as positively fixed. A witty writer and one who has _biographized_ the Dutch poets with some severity, but much talent, says-- Spell--"Wereld "--so sets up Siegenbeek, and then Comes Bilderdyk, and flings it down again. He will have "Wareld"--'Tis a pretty quarrel Shall I determine who shall wear the laurel: Not I!--I like them both--and so I'll say "Waereld"--and each shall have his own dear way. * * * * * THE MEXICAN NAVY