290 The Rising Generation, and the March of Mind. [SEPT. 



home and be wiser." " Jenny !" retorted she, with remarkable vigour 

 of tone " none of that nonsense, old gentleman, my name's Henrietta 

 Matilda !" 



In the heat of the summer as I was returning from the city, I felt 

 fatigued by the ascent of Holborn and called a coach. The driver was 

 absent, and my inquiry as to the cause was answered by the waterman. 

 " Your Honour, he's gone over into that there confectioner's, to take 

 his regular ice." 



I was drawling homewards in one of those vehicles a few days after- 

 wards, when its lazy motion stopped altogether. On putting my head 

 out I saw my driver calmly quitting his throne. " Only getting down 

 to get a bottle of soda," was the explanation. 



At a dinner en famille with an old friend, the conversation over our 

 wine was frequently interrupted by what I conceived the agonies of some 

 child in a state of strangulation. As my friend was unincumbered with 

 those delightful sources of all the troubles on earth, I expressed my 

 surprise. " Why hang the fellow," said he, with some appearance of 

 shame at the incident, " I wish he would take some other time for his 

 foolery. I should have turned him out twelve months ago, but they are 

 all the same in this enlightened age. The perpetrator of those horrid 

 sounds is my footman, taking lessons in singing and the guitar !" 



A fellow seven feet high, with the limbs of an elephant, a first-rate 

 specimen of the coalheaver, was discharging some of his chaldrons in 

 my cellar. The fellow's muscular power surprised me, and I gave him 

 something more than the usual gratuity. He thanked me, " particu- 

 larly," said he, as he deposited it with great care in a side pocket, 

 " as it will just make up what I wanted for silks." " A new name for 

 porter," said I. " No, by no means, your Honour," was the reply. 

 " But after lecture, we has a ball, and the Professor has written up on 

 the door ' No gentlemen admitted to dance, on no conditions what- 

 ever, but in silks and breeches/ " 



On a visit to the country, I found at once a professor of the new 

 light in the neighbouring village, and half my servants emigrating. 

 From one of them, a pretty innocent creature, a tenant's daughter, I at 

 length extracted the secret of the general move. " They preferred 

 the London accent, and wished to leave the country before their 

 organs were rigidified." I scented the professor in the phrase ; and 

 was cruel enough to the march of intellect to have him driven out of the 

 village. 



Crossing Grosvenor-square, I was followed by one of those wretched 

 beings who volunteer sweeping the pave. He had some ragged pieces 

 of leather on his hand. The polite mendicant ! As he held it out for 

 the penny, " Excuse my glove," said this Chesterfield of the mire. 



At the Inn at Devizes, I desired the chambermaid to get the warming- 

 pan ready for my bed. " We haven't none of that sort now," said 

 Blouzelind, with manifest contempt. " In this hotel, we uses nothing 

 but Panthermanticons/' 



" Sir," said my footman, a successor to the gentleman who disap- 

 proved of hired houses, <e if I might be allowed to make the observa- 

 tion, your clothes are by no means what your figure would justify." 

 Voltaire remarks that "'a compliment is a compliment in all cases, as a 

 pearl is a pearl, whether we find it in an oyster-bed or on a beauty's bo- 

 som." I demanded the fellow's reason. " The truth is, Sir," said he, with 

 a profoundly operatic bow, " I don't relish any English tailoring. There 



