Julius Caesar sometimes ate at a meal the revenues of several provinces.

Vitellius made four meals a day; and all those he took with his friends never cost less than ten thousand crowns.  That which was given to him by his brother was most magnificent:  two thousand select dishes were served up:  seven thousand fat birds, and every delicacy which the ocean and Mediterranean sea could furnish.

Nero sat at the table from midday till midnight, amidst the most monstrous profusion.

Geta had all sorts of meat served up to him in alphabetical order.

Heliogabalus regaled twelve of his friends in the most incredible manner:  he gave to each guest animals of the same species as those he served them to eat; he insisted upon their carrying away all the vases or cups of gold, silver, and precious stones, out of which they had drunk; and it is remarkable, that he supplied each with a new one every time he asked to drink.  He placed on the head of each a crown interwoven with green foliage, and gave each a superbly-ornamented and well-yoked car to return home in.  He rarely ate fish but when he was near the sea; and when he was at a distance from it, he had them served up to him in sea-water.

Louis VIII. invented a dish called Truffes a la puree d’ortolans.  The happy few who tasted this dish, as concocted by the royal hand of Louis himself, described it as the very perfection of the culinary art.  The Duc d’Escars was sent for one day by his royal master, for the purpose of assisting in the preparation of a glorious dish of Truffes a la puree d’ortolans; and their joint efforts being more than usually successful, the happy friends sat down to Truffes a la puree d’ortolans for ten, the whole of which they caused to disappear between them, and then each retired to rest, triumphing in the success of their happy toils.  In the middle of the night, however, the Duc d’Escars suddenly awoke, and found himself alarmingly indisposed.  He rang the bells of his apartment, when his servant came in, and his physicians were sent for; but they were of no avail, for he was dying of a surfeit.  In his last moments he caused some of his attendants to go and inquire whether his majesty was not suffering in a similar manner with himself, but they found him sleeping soundly and quietly.  In the morning, when the king was informed of the sad catastrophe of his faithful friend and servant, he exclaimed, “Ah, I told him I had the better digestion of the two.”

W.G.C.

* * * * *

THE SKETCH BOOK.

EVERY MAN IN HIS HUMOUR.  A FRAGMENT.

(For the Mirror.)

During the rage of the last continental war in Europe, occasion—­no matter what—­called an honest Yorkshire squire to take a journey to Warsaw.  Untravelled and unknowing, he provided himself no passport:  his business concerned himself alone, and what had foreign nations to do with him?  His route lay through the states of neutral and contending powers.  He landed in Holland—­passed the usual examination; but, insisting that the affairs which brought him there were of a private nature, he was imprisoned—­questioned—­sifted;—­and appearing to be incapable of design, was at length permitted to pursue his journey.