is a foreign Count-a Count, of course, merely by his

own account.

"A foreign Count, who came incog.,
Not under a cloud, but under a fog,

In a Calais packet's fore-cabin ;

With eyes as black as the fruit of the thorn,
And his hooky nose, and his beard half-shorn,
Like a half-converted Rabbin.

And because the sex confess a charm

In a man who has slashed a head or an arm,

Or has been a throat's undoing;

He was dressed like one of the glorious trade,

At least when glory is off parade,

With a stock and a frock well trimmed with braid,

And frogs that went a-wooing."

And then—and the following notable accomplishments have turned the heads and won the hearts of many a giddy girl

"And then-and much it helped his chance

He could sing, and play first-fiddle, and dance;
Perform charades and proverbs of France;

Act the tender, and do the cruel ;

For among his other killing parts,
He had broken a brace of female hearts,
And murdered three men in a duel."

Ere the honeymoon is at the full, the golden-legged lady finds to her sad experience that the fellow is a cold, heartless schemer, with as little title to the name of

gentleman as to that of Count. Love for her he had never felt, and the real object of his villainy once secured, the married life of Miss Kilmansegg is one of unmitigated misery. Such a result, in a greater or less degree, cannot fail to flow from all matches where mere gold or externals alone, without reference to mental or moral qualities, form the motive influence of the unions. The following moral closes the poem :

"Gold, gold, gold, gold!

Bright and yellow, hard and cold;

Molten, graven, hammered, and rolled;
Heavy to get and light to hold;
Hoarded, bartered, bought, and sold;
Stolen, borrowed, squandered, doled;
Spurned by the young, and hugged by the old,
To the very verge of the churchyard mould ;
Price of many a crime untold;
Good, or bad, a thousand-fold,

How widely its agencies vary;

To save, to ruin, to curse, to bless,

As even its minted coins express,

Now stamped with the image of good Queen Bess,

And now of a bloody Mary."

149

THE TESTIMONIAL.

LAST night, the friends and admirers of Samuel Gigot, Esquire, met to present that gentleman with a fitting token of their esteem. In remote and comparatively uncivilised times, virtue used to be thought its own exceeding great reward; but with the march of intellect and other improvements in modern social life, it has been found that the belief in virtue or merit of any kind hardly exists until it is first entertained at a supper (amid great applause) and presented with a testimonial labelled, in fact, like a liqueur bottle, to show forth to all mankind that this is the genuine article, and no mere coloured water, such as shines in a druggist's window. Hence it was felt, when so many men of inferior note were getting their eminent merits acknowledged, in the shape of a snuff-box, gold watch, German silver pencil-case, or a walking-stick, that a man who has done so much for our municipal institutions, and

the welfare of the city generally, as Mr. G., ought not to go without some tangible and worthy mark of the esteem of his fellow-citizens. Being a man of simple tastes (Mr. Gigot is a bachelor) and retiring disposition, the committee appointed by the subscribers to make the necessary arrangements felt considerable difficulty in selecting such a testimonial as, while it would do credit to themselves, should prove thoroughly acceptable to their honoured guest, on the ground both of ornament and utility.

At length, by a happy inspiration, they hit upon an object combining both recommendations, and also some novelty, compared with the ordinary routine of presentations. Mr. Gigot's consent having, with some difficulty, been obtained, a numerous company accordingly met within the "Shoemakers' Arms," 893 Saltmarket, for the purpose of formally handing over the testimonial to the guest of the evening-Mr. Whang in the chair. After an ample supper (which did much credit to Mrs. Bauchles, the landlady), and the usual loyal and patriotic toasts had been disposed of, the Chairman said they had now, after a satisfactory supper, come to the most important business of the evening. He need not dilate on the many admirable qualities of their friend as a man and a citizen (he was sorry he could not add husband and father); these were patent

to the whole city. Mr. Gigot was not a man of yesterday, as any one might see by looking at his whiskers, and he had spent himself long and faithfully in the public service. The dexterous, valiant, and successful manner in which, trusting to his own legs alone, he had walked into the abuses of our municipal institutions, deserves some grateful acknowledgment at our hands; and although many of the improvements which, with far-seeing philanthropy, he had pressed upon an apathetic public had not yet taken shape in act, there could be no doubt that, in the "good time coming," when wiser men arose, the generation of Glasgow now in petticoats would bless the name of Samuel Gigot, and stand aghast at the selfish obtuseness of their fathers. The Chairman concluded by presenting Mr. Gigot with a handsome pair of Wellington boots, which, he hoped, might prove a good fit, and in which he trusted to see their worthy friend marching forward in the path of duty for many a long day to come. A neatly-inscribed plate was placed on the top of the right boot, commemorating the presentation, and bearing the classical motto, Ne sutor ultra crepidam.

The Chairman then, amid the unanimous applause of the company, requested Mr. Gigot to try on the boots, which he did accordingly, with powerful assistance. In reply, he said it had always been the dearest ambition