l/'^ -A. Journey to London in 1840. 



the highest of them whom I have seen are superior, well educated, 

 and excellent men. Altogether no person could be more satisfied 

 with his position in life than the Comptroller of His Majesty's 

 Stationery Office. 



I must now stop. His excellent worthy wife is as happy as 

 himself. They have had a dozen children, of whom ten are still 

 alive — the eldest, Miss M'Culloch, was born in 1812, the youngest 

 in 1838. The oldest son, William, is in India as a cadet, an ex- 

 ceedingly promising young man. With regard to other branches 

 of the family I need only say that nicer, more affectionate, and 

 interesting children could not be found. I dare not single out 

 one in preference to another else I would mention Miss M'Cul- 

 loch as about the cleverest and most judicious voung lady T 

 know, with all the good sense and not a small share of the 

 sarcastic humour and other characteristic traits of her father. 

 The family so far as they have come are excellently educated. 

 The second surviving son, John, has recently been appointed a 

 clerk in the Post Office, London. 



I may mention that Mr M'Culloch, as in Edinburgh, so in 

 London, moves in the very best society. In the former place he 

 was more connected with lawyers, the best and leading lawyers, 

 Jeffrey, Cockburn, Thomas Thomson, John Archibald Murray, 

 and such persons than with any other class. Macvey Napier, 

 now editor of the Edinburgh Review, and Professor Leslie 

 were his most intimate friends. In London again he associates 

 with the wealthy merchants, as well as occasionally with others 

 of a higher grade. Sir Henry Parnell has long been his familiar 

 friend, Mr Poullet Thomson, now Governor-General of the 

 Canadas, was once a private pupil of his, in other words, took 

 private lessons from him ; and he sometimes dines at Lansdowne 

 House. He does not cultivate the society of men who have 

 merely literature to recommend them. He says they are gene- 

 rally so poor, so ignorant of life, and so peculiar that there is no 

 pleasure in their company. He prefers men who can give good 

 dinners. On one occasion when Dr Black, editor of the Morn- 

 ing Chronicle, and he were talking on the subject of poor 

 authors, they both agreed in opinion as to that interesting class 

 of men. Dr Black said he had ever made it a rule to steer clear 

 of such persons. "Hang it," says M'Culloch, directing his dis- 

 course to me, "these fellows cannot give dinners!" I record 



