striking point of illustration; or the supremacy, the omnipotence of gold, ever more undeniably manifested, than in this accumulation of power, by which the whole range of nature, with all its varieties and enjoyments, is converged into the narrow space of one room and one hour, and placed at the absolute disposal of the humblest individual in society.

So much homage and luxury, alike flattering to the spirit and the sense, form a dangerous possession to those who are not habituated to their enjoyment. A gentleman, in the enlarged sense of that word, will have comprehension enough of intellect to distinguish between the substance and the accidents of human nature; he will know to what fortuitous circumstances his own elevation is attributable; and will never for a moment forget that a general urbanity and courteousness are the distinctive attributes of his character. There is an autocratical gentleman of a very different description, whose patent is in his pocket, and who, as if conscious of his total want of all other claims to respect, seems determined to evince that he possesses all the wealth that can be typified by arrogance and coarseness. As he swaggers into the room, making the floor resound with his iron heels, he stares at the company with an air that seems to be shaking his purse in their faces. The brass in his own is Corinthian; it is a mixture of other metals, in which gold seems to predominate, and the precious compound actually appears to exude from every pore of his body. Swelling with self-importance, he gives the bell a violent pull, summons attention with a loud authoritative voice, puffs

out the breath from his inflated cheeks, and might almost burst with the tumour of consequence, had he not the waiter on whom to vent the superflux of his humours. As to the quid pro quo, or any system of equivalents, reducing the relations between himself and the landlord to one of simple barter or exchange, he understands it not. He is lavishing his money of his own free will and bounty, and has surely a right to take out the full value in insolence. Nothing is so genteel as fastidiousness; he abuses every thing, pretends to be poisoned with the viands, turns up his nose at the wines, wonders where the devil such trash was brewed, and thinks to obtain credit for a familiarity with more exalted modes of life, by undervaluing the miserable luxuries of a tavern, although an inference diametrically opposite would certainly be much nearer to the truth. In addressing the waiter, his tone varies from downright brutality to a mock and supercilious civility; though he is generally most delighted when he turns him into ridicule, and converts him into a butt for the exercise of his clumsy wit.

The object of his horseplay and rude raillery is himself not unworthy observation. As the butcher generally becomes fat and florid by inhaling the odours of raw flesh in the open air, the waiter commonly exhibits a stunted growth and sodden complexion, from battening on the steam of dressed victuals in a close coffee-room. Not unfrequently his shin bone assumes that projecting curve which a medical friend of mine terms the Tibia Londinensis; his sallow face expresses shrewdness, selfishness, and a fawning imperturbable

submission to every indignity. Aware of the necessity for some indisputable distinction between himself and such gentlemen as we have been describing, the rogue, with a sly satire, scrupulously condemns his legs to white cotton stockings, and is conscientious not to appear without a napkin beneath his arm. The difference is merely external; his is indeed the " meanness that soars and pride that licks the dust," but it has the same source as the haughty vulgarity of his insulter. He looks to the final shilling or half-crown, although it will be cast to him with an air that converts generosity itself into an offence. That is his pride of purse; and I know not which is the most revolting, the arrogant or the abject manifestation of the same feeling.

66

They order these things better in France," and the interior economy and regulation of our taverns might, in many respects, be bettered by an imitation of our Gallic neighbours. No Parisian enters their public dining-rooms without taking off his hat, and bowing to the presiding deity of the bar. Taking his place in silence, and perusing the closely-printed folio Carte with a penetration proportioned to its bewildering diversity, he finally makes his selection, writes down the articles of his choice, and even the quantity of each, so as to prevent all mistake, upon slips of paper deposited on every table for that purpose, hands the record to an attendant, and betakes himself patiently to a newspaper until his orders appear before him in all their smoking and edible reality. There is rarely any calling of the waiter, and there are no bells to ring, the number and activity of the attend

ants generally rendering both processes unnecessary. If occasionally absent, the edge of a knife tapped against a wine glass forms a fairy bell quite sufficient to summon them to their posts, although I could never divine by what auricular sympathy they recognise the chime of every table. Shortly after dinner the guests call for coffee, and betake themselves, with a valedictory bow, to their own avocations or the theatres, in winter; to a promenade or a chair in some of the public gardens, if it be summer. Ladies of the first respectability are habitual diners at the restaurateurs, contributing, as might be expected, to the perfect decorum of the assemblage, and even (as might not be expected) to its silence. Surely some of these coffee-house amenities might be beneficially imported, especially the temperance, from a country where wine, instead of six or eight shillings, costs exactly that number of pence per bottle. I recommend to my countrymen that this "be in their flowing cups freshly remembered."

In the manners of France one may visibly trace the effects of the Revolution, which, by depressing the upper and elevating the lower classes, has approximated and ameliorated both, rendering the former less arrogant and the latter more independent. Aristocracy of wealth and pride of purse are now pretty much confined to England; although our brethren of America are understood to be rivalling us more successfully than could have been expected from Republicans. On the continent we render ourselves frequently ridiculous, and sometimes odious, by our arrogant

conduct to inferiors; while few of our natives return to their own country without inveighing against the familiarity of foreign servants, and the insolence of the lower classes. How scandalous, how impious of the French and Germans, and Italians, not to bow the knee to every golden calf that is worshipped in England! If, instead of their stars at the India House, and thousands in the Consols, these maltreated tourists were to be measured by their real worth, they would be safe from all imputation of hauteur towards their inferiors, for they might travel over the whole world without being able to find any.

PRINTED BY MISTAKE.

"Redeem'd from tapers and defrauded pies." POPE.

I was sitting by my fire-side in a dozing, dreaming, Lethean sort of half-consciousness, with just thought enough to enable me to enjoy my thoughtlessness, a mood of mind in which I indulge with a particular complacency, when my servant abruptly entered to inform me that a porter had called for my contribution to the New Monthly. "The New Monthly !" I exclaimed, with an indignant surprise," I sent it a fortnight ago." "True, Sir, but that was for last month's." Impossible !--what is to-day ?"" The tenth."-"Well, then, it is now too late-and when

66