ROSSANIA.—Captain Ross since his return, as may be supposed, is quite a lion. He is, if not “the glass of fashion and the mould of form,” at least “the observed of all observers and many are the mansions anxious to be honoured with the presence of the Polar hero. Like the Chinese in Goldsmith’s ” Citizen of the World,” he is expected to say and do wonderful things—and great surprise has been occasioned by the fact of his acting much the same as he used to do. A certain dilettante dame hearing that the Captain had declared he considered an Arctic fox a dainty, actually got a cub from Leicestershire dressed for his dinner on a recent invite; and was quite astonished to see him work away at a haunch of venison instead.

“Pray, Captain Ross, (asked a city lady at dinner in Portland-place, the other evening,) did you not take any cold out in these inclement regions?” “No, madam, (replied Ross, who is a wag,) I found enough there on my arrival, I can assure you.”

“Is it a fact (inquired Sir Clod) that the whales weep?” “Not that I know of!” answered the navigator. “Bless my soul, then, (replied the civic luminary), what do they mean by saying they have so much blubber about them?”

“I suppose (said Tom Macauley, cracking an old joke of ours), you used icy-coals for cool-inary purposes.”

“Yes (rejoined Ross) ; and, moreover, we had nothing else to drink.” “That’s odd enough (said Tom, rather smartly), for by all accounts you had plenty of bruin (brewing) out there.” There is no bearing Tom’s fun. It was well known that the expedition was fitted out at the expense of Felix Booth, the distiller, who was Sheriff at the period of Ross’s departure. In compliment to his liberal patron, Ross called the land near the Pole, “Boothia.” The chief of the natives discovered in that quarter he christened “Old Tom.” The aborigines Ross describes as being a spirited race in some instances, but generally speaking, dull; in fact, says he, “I never met a rum fellow amongst them.”

“Pray (asked a parson), have they any religion or idea of the Deity?” “They have two (replied Ross); Thaw-r is worshipped in the summer, and Ice-is (Isis) in the winter.

“I should think an Esquimaux would make a capital assessor at an election,” said Sam Rogers. “How so?” asked the Captain. “Why who are better judges of the state of the Poles?” answered Sam.

But, however, this is all mere badinage. Seriously speaking, Ross declares that the discoveries he is daily making of the altered state of affairs at home, quite exceed all he made at the North Pole. His recollection of the dreadful icebergs are quite obliterated by the contemplation of the changed state of the Scotch burghs. In fact, the remembrance of his woes and troubles in the dismal Arctic regions, he assures us, are lost in the feelings of horror with which he contemplates the awful changes in the character and constitution, political and economical, of England.

“The Esquimaux, (emphatically says the Captain), if the measures of the anarchists be persisted in, will be happier in his clime of cold and darkness, than the Englishman in this, his once boasted land of freedom and prosperity.”

We believe him. The Captain has not gone “so far north” for nothing.— Age. [We don’t.—Ed.]