Ayres, and Jehosaphat Seward, cook in the Danish ship Tiger."

"The person I allude to," said I," is probably no connexion of either the restaurateur at Calcutta, the barber of Buenos Ayres, or the cook on board of the Danish ship Tiger. He is a man of good family, and his mother was the celebrated beauty, Miss Brown."

"Of Browns," said the German eagerly, protruding his chin, staring intently on vacancy, and counting at the same time upon his fingers; "of Browns I have known just forty-six-no, forty-seven-Eliphalet Brown, of-"

The important communication was here interrupted by the approach of a well-looking young man, and the names of the forty-seven Mr. Browns whom Heineman had chronicled in his memory were lost to me for ever. My German presented me to the new-comer. He was one of those harmless simpletons who look upon talk as a certain formal exercise, who will say any thing "in the way of conversation," and are satisfied with themselves if they can but make a remark. The youth extended his long neck, and bowing between his ear and his shoulders, said, in a grave tone but with an extremely insinuating air, "There was a Stanley died recently of the cholera." "Same man, of course," said I, and turning upon my heel, left him to practise compliments upon the German. 'That sea-ing they might not see!" said a voice at my shoulder. “Are your eyes so 'shore-n of their beams' that you cannot discover an old friend?"

66 6

I turned and recognized Seward; though, had I only "seen with my ears" I might have known the speaker by the vileness of his puns. He was one who although his mercurial temper and fondness for social notoriety led him constantly to sacrifice dignity to diversion, yet rendered himself universally acceptable by the unflagging liveliness and spirit of his conversation. He was often extravagant and sometimes fatiguing, but never dull. To keep himself excited and others interested was the whole business of his life: and to this end, the purest wit and the most despicable quibbles, a keen vigour of reason and inexhaustible powers of buffoonery united in an odd but delightful confusion. He could be serious on occasion, and with great effect: when the taste of his companion

66

made it desirable, he was always ready to take part in argument, and he never took part in vain. But still if the cap was not on his head it was at least in his hand, and at the slightest signal the grave debater was a dancing harlequin. I have seen him at one moment discussing "Edwards on the Will" with a learned professor, and at the next crowing like a cock for the amusement of a child. In this last accomplishment his powers were unique; he would have dwarfed Braham, and even the lord lieutenant for Ireland could not have stood near him. I hardly know whether it was a greater treat to hear him expound the " Aids to Reflection," or repeat "Christabel" with a long-drawn-out accompaniment of the "tu-whit, tu-whoos." For a mind like his wherein choice witticisms, learned quotations and stories of humorous anecdotes, lay piled together as under a mosaic dispensation, there could be no antitypes in nature but the gizzard of an ostrich in which pen-knives, bits of glass, old nails, and fragments of leather repose, an indigesta moies; or the index of a magazine, where "Hell" follows "Heaven," "Omnipotence" is backed with "Oysters," and "Freedom" and "Fudge," "Washer-woman" and " Washington," "Boiled-eggs" and "Bonaparte," "Divinity" and "Doornails" stand in apt conjunction. In short, there were nearly as many different elements in his character as there are distinct orders of architecture in an American bank. He was quite young, and although he prided himself on his powers of intrigue, was in reality profoundly ignorant of the world, and more often imposed upon than any one I ever knew. His visage was as odd as his character; pale, lanthorn-jawed, worthy a man of eighty: his brow knotted and wrinkled, and a couple of deep lines running horizontally across the top of his nose,—an infallible sign, by the way, of humour.

The heart of Seward was as true as his head was various, and a firmer friend, when his esteem had been gained, existed not.

"You seem to be somewhat crowded here, mon ami," said I.

"This crowd," said Seward, "like Hamlet's grief and the new-fashioned coats, knows not seems.' It is as real as any action known to the law of England."

66

Mixed, rather, I should think," said I.

"But pray

tell me who some of these people are: and, to begin with the least, who is that little creature, that homuncle, that differential of a man, who is illustrating himself to those ladies with such consummate self-satisfaction?"

6

6

"True," said Seward," Sapiens incipit a fine, we will proceed from the lowest of creation, upward. That man is the well-known Mr. Arish; who in talking of celebrated authors, says, we literary men.' He is a critic, which means an author run to seed; and has been, in his time, a great bug-bear to young writers, but to my thinking the bug so predominates over the bear, that I am surprised that he is not rather an object of contempt than of fear. He was bred up to no profession, and being obliged by the narrowness of his income to seek labour of some kind, he resorted to that last refuge of unprovided genius; the unapprenticed trade of authorship. His productions however, did not happen to strike the public mind: in short he failed. But the versatility of his genius was not without a resource. Every man,' says Shaftesbury, 'thinks he can drive a whiskey, and manage a small farm.' Every educated man thinks he can teach a school, and edit a newspaper. Arish resorted to the latter; a choice which I so highly commend, that I shall some day or other adopt it myself. He had by nature, undoubtedly, very peculiar talents for the post, especially, of a political editor. No man could turn a paragraph better, or succeed more infallibly in rendering a sheet ephemeral. It was beautiful to see a man so much elevated above principle, and indulging such sublime contempt for decency. He is understood to have commenced his course of preparation for politics by a diligent study of Turner's History, and Mrs. Trimmer's Abridgements. He determined to execute the advice of the philosopher in Rasselas, and live according to nature. He fixed his eyes upon the moon, and resolved to emulate her changes. He saw the osier, and excelled it in pliancy. He imitated the seasons, too, with most happy resemblances; and often when his friends expected from the mild and spring-like approbation of his manner, that the warmth of summer patronage was to ensue, he would come out upon them with the freezing gusts of a March wind. With such exquisite

sang-froid did he pass to and fro from one party to another, that it might seem as if he had merely done it to benefit his health by a change of air. He exhibited in his oft repeated and most graceful forward and back, cross over and turn round,' a dance of tergiversation, which Almacks might have copied with applause. So thought the world, but in truth the man had no party but himself, and no principle but to advance himself: and he never deserted the one nor forgot the other."

"It might be an interesting problem for the Board of Longitude." said I, "to discover at what point of the compass he might be found at any given period in advance."

Our conversation was here interrupted by the approach of a fat and very vulgar woman, with a very patronizing air to my companion: young men of good blood are always particularly protected by rich parvenues. 06 La! Mr. Seward!" cried the vulgarian, “what terrible places these is for gentility! (placing the accent on the first sylJable of the word.) One don't find nothing here as one is 'customed to, at home: nothing but steel fauks, which, you know, is quite exploded now. We brung down a dozen silver fawks with us; and as you have always been 'customed to 'em, I know, we'll lend one of 'em to you: 'cause I know you can't eat your dinner without 'em."

Seward who was thoroughly patrician in his feelings, shrank from the coarse appeal, as if it had been a northeaster, and replied with great coldness, "I thank you, madam; I can eat very well with steel."

"Oh !" renewed the other. "I am sure you can't; no one can. I will tell our servant to put a silver fawk by your plate."

"You are excessively condescending, madam!" replied Seward, who was beginning to be vexed as he saw the attention of the by-standers directed towards him, and who was as little fond of being victimized as he was fond of victimizing: I must beg, madam, that you will not give yourself any trouble of the kind: on this occasion, I prefer steel."

66

The patroness was effectually discomfited by the tone of dignity with which this was uttered, and withdrew without returning to the charge.

I had observed for some time a sickly, peevish-looking

woman at no great distance from us, apparently engaged in pressing upon her husband some proposal to which he did not seem much inclined to consent, and of the suggestion of which he seemed to be somewhat ashamed. From the earnestness of the speaker's manner, her remarks seemed to have reference to some affair of not less than vital importance; and during a pause which presently ensued in our conversation, some part of the dialogue reached our ears.

"It is really too bad," said the woman, whose voice seemed to have become monotoned to querulousness, "too bad that they should take their places above us at the dinner-table. I wish, my dear, that you would speak to the keeper of the house. They have no right there. You must prevent it."

"Oh! my dear!" said the husband, who appeared to be a man of blunt good sense," it is not a matter of the smallest consequence. One seat is just as good as ano

ther."

"But," reiterated the other, "we must have our rights. The places belong to us. I will not see such people going above us. It is too bad;" and they went on wrangling.

66

Pray," said I to Seward, who like myself had been listening to this conjugal colloquy, "can you tell me what duchess this is, who has thus been defrauded of her rights, and who are the plebeians who are so shameless in their encroachments upon rank?"

I happened," he replied, "to be present at the breakfast-table this morning, when a personal encounter took place between the parties, or rather when the other party took possession of the disputed seat, and the present complainant made an unsuccessful attempt to regain it. The usurper is the wife of a rich broker whose connexions are mean; this woman is the wife of a poor broker, but happens to have a thirty-third cousin who married a gentleman. Upon the strength of the connexion, she assumes a coat-armour, and demands precedence accordingly. The loss of the seat which should belong to her, as having arrived here before the other, is the momentous argument of this contest."

The dinner-bell presently rang, and we all went for