NONOGENARIAN NONSENSE.

(_COMPILED À LA MODE._)

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I have so often been urged by my friends to write my autobiography,
that at length I have taken up my pen to comply with their wishes. My
memory, although I may occasionally become slightly mixed, is still
excellent, and having been born in the first year of the present
century I consequently can remember both the Plague and Fire of
London. The latter is memorable to me as having been the cause of my
introduction to Sir CHRISTOPHER WREN, an architect of some note, and
an intimate friend of Sir JOSHUA REYNOLDS, and the late Mr. TURNER,
R.A. Sir CHRISTOPHER had but one failing--he was never sober. To the
day of his death he was under the impression that St. Paul's was St.
Peter's!

One of my earliest recollections is the great physician HARVEY, who,
indeed, knew me from my birth. Although an exceedingly able man,
he was a confirmed glutton. He would at the most ceremonious of
dinner-parties push his way through the guests (treating ladies and
gentlemen with the like discourtesy) and plumping himself down in
front of the turtle soup, would help himself to the entire contents of
the tureen, plus the green fat! During the last years of his life he
abandoned medicine to give his attention to cookery, and (so I have
been told) ultimately invented a fish sauce!

I knew HOWARD, the so-called philanthropist, very well. He was