MONTHLY REVIEW GF LITERATURE. 521 



Any extract that we could make from this amusing book must be brief. His 

 elegant little paper on " Content" will not give a very incorrect idea of the pe- 

 culiar turn of the author's mind. 



" Content, ' thou art my lieutenant!' I have now and then, in the wanton- 

 ness and ingratitude of my heart, cherished for a moment, or an hmir, or a 

 day, that moody and gloomy dissatisfaction, Discontent ; but it is an ugly 

 humour. Look at it, and you loath it. It puckers the lips, and twists the 

 natural shape of the mouth, if handsome, into the shape of a vinegar cruet, 

 which is ordinary ; it pulls down the brows ; lengthens the face ; makes pits 

 in the cheek ; gives a Sir Andrew A severity of expression to the coun- 

 tenance, which frightens little children, who are great physiognomists ; turns 

 the sweet milk of humanity into a sort of unbearable curds and whey ; and is 

 altogether an ill-favoured, unsightly, and unhandsome indulgence, 



" Besides these considerations, I have, so to speak, no reasonable reasons 

 for discontent. Have I not every thing at my fingers' ends and about my 

 feet, and within my reach, which can gratify man ? I think so. It is for 

 me that my opposite neighbours, the three Misses Stubbs (ugly, but well off), 

 come out daily in all the glory of the rainbow and humility of the peacock ; it 

 is for me that they dress and bedizen themselves, and I acknowledge the ge- 

 nius of their milliner, and sometimes think seriously of her bill, and wonder 

 how old Stubbs, who is but a hunks, submits himself to their extravagance. 

 It is for me that the beauties of this great city (and where is the city that can 

 exhibit more womanly loveliness ?) walk abroad in May and June : I behold 

 them with reverence and bachelorly devotion ; for I have not yet warbled to 

 the tune of ' Hail, wedded love !' and have never yet responded to that church 

 service which begins with the words ' Dearly beloved' and ends with that ill- 

 omened word, ' amazement.' But I am content, and still have a heart ' to let, 

 coming in easy ;' for ' cards of particulars inquire within.' For me the doors 

 of taverns out of number gape their mahogany jaws, and invite me to walk 

 in : for me the waiters stand ready to draw their white napkins in their right 

 hands through their left hands ; for me the larder is daily stored with flesh, 

 fish, and fowl, the cod is crimped, the champagne iced, fruit- pies are kept 

 cold, and that calf 's- head has had a lemon between his tusks for these three 

 days last past, and only waits my word to be dressed, and made meet and 

 meat for me. When I grow weary with town-wandering, a carriage waits 

 but the holding up of my hand, and a cry of ' coach !' and honest Jarvis (not- 

 withstanding all the bad silver about him) draws up to the edge of the pave- 

 ment, hoists me in, and I am wheeled and whirled off wherever I wish to go. 

 If I desire to make a short cut into Surrey from the theatres, Waterloo bridge 

 has been thrown across the river for me : it cost my too considerate country- 

 men too many thousands the more their munificence and unsparing deter- 

 mination to do every thing to oblige me : I acknowledge their attention to my 

 convenience, and drop a penny to Tilt, as a slight douceur for his civility in 

 turning a stile to let me pass. St. James's Park was formerly a dirty duck- 

 pond and a squashy cow-lair : it is now newly laid out and made cool, re- 

 freshing, and pleasant with shrubs, swans, and serpentining waters for mv 

 devious wandering and delectation. The Lord Mayor (no less a man) goe's 

 yearly, and every year in state from the good city of London to the tolerably 

 virtuous city of Westminster partly by land, and partly by water, being am- 

 phibious, that I may choose where I prefer to see the show, and behold him 

 who is greater than ' Solomon in all his glory.' The Parliament-houses and 

 play-houses are thrown open in their seasons, to gratify my alternate relish 

 for politics and poetry. The king (God bless him !) goes to open the one in 

 his best carriage and best clothes to gratify me ; and would take it much to 

 heart if I did not pay him the poor compliment of witnessing his state, and 

 observing and acknowledging how rosy and hearty he looks, and how well 

 he becomes his dignity his dignity him. The managers open the others, and 

 advertise me to ' come but and see' their Macready, and Ellen Tree, and Ma- 



