An Archbishop.—­Henry Wardlaw, Archbishop of St. Andrew’s, at the beginning of the fifteenth century was a prelate of such unbounded liberality, that the masters of his household, apprehensive that his revenues might be exhausted by the expense of entertaining the great numbers who resorted to his palace, solicited him to make out a list of persons to whom the hospitality of his board might be confined.  “Well,” said the archbishop to his secretary, “take a pen and begin.  First put down Fife and Angus”—­two large counties, containing several hundred thousands of people.  His servants hearing this, retired abashed; “for,” says the historian, “they said he would have no man refused that came to his house.”

Rights of Hospitality.—­Dr. Johnson, in his tour through North Wales, passed two days at the seat of Colonel Middleton, of Gwynnagag.  While he remained there, the gardener found a hare amidst some potatoe plants, and brought it to his master, then engaged in conversation with the doctor.  An order was given to carry it to the cook.  As soon as Johnson heard this sentence, he begged to have the animal placed in his arms, which was no sooner done, than approaching the open window, he restored the hare to her liberty, shouting after her to accelerate her speed.  “What have you done, doctor?” cried the colonel.  “Why you have robbed my table of a delicacy—­perhaps deprived us of a dinner.”  “So much the better, sir,” replied the humane champion of a condemned hare; “for if your table is to be supplied at the expense of the laws of hospitality, I envy not the appetite of him who eats it.  This, sir, is not a hare taken in war, but one which had voluntarily placed itself under your protection; and savage indeed must be that man who does not make his hearth an asylum for the confiding stranger.”

Mungo Park.—­While Park was waiting on the banks of the Niger for a passage, the king of the country was informed that a white man intended to visit him.  On this intelligence, a messenger was instantly dispatched to tell the stranger that his majesty could not possibly admit him to his presence till he understood the cause of his arrival, and also to warn him not to cross the river without the royal permission.  The message was accordingly delivered by one of the chief natives, who advised Mr. Park to seek a lodging in an adjacent village, and promised to give him some requisite instructions in the morning.  Mr. Park immediately complied with this counsel; but on entering the village he had the mortification to find every door closed against him.  He was, therefore, obliged to remain all the day without food, beneath the shade of a tree.  About sunset, as he was turning his horse loose to graze, and expected to pass the night in this lonely situation, a woman returning from her employment in the fields stopped to gaze at him, and observing his dejected looks, enquired from what cause they proceeded?  Mr. P. endeavoured, as well as he could, to make known his destitute situation.