(324 My New Lodgings. 



more of a musician than 1 am, without endangering the supremacy of 

 Handel or Mozart. I pretend not to the mysteries of the flat ninth, or 

 diminished seventh but I know a crotchet from a quaver ; and a few 

 seconds informed me that the unseen instrumentalist had yet to reach 

 that measure of proficiency. Now the vicinity of a flute-player was bad 



enough in all. conscience ; but a flute-learner If it were polite to 



swear in a magazine, I would let you know my sentiments of a flute- 

 learner ! Still I determined to <f bide my time." A quarter of an hour's 

 practice, methought, will content him ; and the deuce is in it if the resi- 

 due of the twenty-four hours is not enough for me. A quarter of an 

 hour is often but a brief space. To me condemned to hear harmony 

 murdered in the next room, with nothing but a pannel half an inch 

 thick between me and the murderer ; and my situation aggravated by the 

 remembrance that my pen was idle the while, and all the bright thoughts 

 which I had just collected into a focus to dazzle the world, in imminent 

 danger of dispersion to me it appeared a quarter of a century. You 

 have heard, perhaps, a beginner on the flute, or some other instrument ? 

 Time and tune set at defiance ; flats, sharps, and naturals in as beautiful 

 confusion as chairs in a fashionable drawing-room j the performer as 

 ignorant of the gamut as, a peer of political economy; tones and semi- 

 tones, quavers and semi-quavers all alike ; no standing upon such 

 trifles. Altogether, I believe, it is comparable to nothing but to Discord 

 herself executing a solo at a musical festival in Pandemonium. When 

 the fifteen minutes were elapsed, I dipped my pen in the ink-stand. The 

 ink dried, and the practising still went on. Vexation muttered, " uncon- 

 scionable !" Patience whispered, " give him another quarter of an hour !" 

 I agreed, in hopes of getting quarter myself in return. But no! I was 

 at the mercy of a ruthless enemy. The second half-hour commenced its 

 course ; but no intermission, except while the leaves of the music-book 

 were turning. Once there was a little delay in performing this opera- 

 tion : two leaves, I suppose, were turned instead of one. My pen was 

 once more in the ink-stand ; but before it could reach the paper, the 

 mistake was corrected, and the indefatigable practiser was on his way 

 again, in full career after luckless music, whom he worried like a true 

 sportsman, thinking as little (to borrow a pun from Geoffrey Crayon) of 

 clearing five or six bars at a leap, as a fox-hunter in the heat of the 

 chase. I was now wrought to a pitch of -frenzy, and resolved to leave 

 the house instantly ; but, alas ! how often 



" the native hue of resolution 

 Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought !" 



I had taken the apartment by the month ; and, in my horror of children, 

 I had never dreamed of making a proviso against musicians. Of course, 

 there was no alternative but to submit to be practised to death, or pay a 

 month's rent for a day's lodging a course, which the editorial civilities 

 above mentioned dissuaded me from taking by that powerful mode of 

 reasoning, called an argumentum ad crumenam. 



At length it ceased ! but the spirit of composition had evaporated ; 

 my neighbour's flute had produced the effect of Gideon's pitchers and 

 trumpets on my cogitations ; and on reviewing the ideal host, with 

 whose aid I had meditated the gathering of so many laurels, so many of 

 my thoughts were on the missing-list not to speak of those which had 

 actually perished in the din that it was impossible to proceed a step 



