(and I believed it likely), I have the honour of addressing a poet also?'

;

'Why, sir,' replied the man, ' I have made verses in my life in short, there is little I have not done, for I was always a lover of variety; but, perhaps, your honour will let me return the suspicion. Are you not a favourite of the Muse?'

'I cannot say that I am,' said I. 'I value myself only on my common sense the very antipodes to genius, you know, according to the orthodox belief.'

'Common sense!' repeated my companion, with a singular and meaning smile, and a twinkle with his left eye. 'Common sense! Ah, that is not my forte, sir. You, I dare say, are one of those gentlemen whom it is very difficult to take in, either passively or actively, by appearance, or in act? For my part, I have been a dupe all my life—a child might cheat me! I am the most unsuspicious person in the world.'

'Too candid by half,' thought I. This man is certainly a rascal; but what is that to me? I shall never see him again;' and true to my love of never losing an opportunity of ascertaining individual character, I observed that I thought such an acquaintance very valuable, especially if he were in trade; it was a pity, therefore, for my sake, that my companion had informed me that he followed no calling.

'Why, sir,' said he, 'I am occasionally in employment; my nominal profession is that of a broker. I buy shawls and handkerchiefs of poor countesses, and retail them to rich plebeians. I fit up new-married couples with linen at a more moderate rate than the shops, and procure the bridegroom his present of jewels at forty per cent. less than the jewellers; nay, I am as friendly to an intrigue as a marriage; and, when I cannot sell my jewels, I will my good offices. A gentleman so handsome as your honour may have an affair upon your hands; if so, you may rely upon my secrecy and zeal. In short, I am an innocent good-natured fellow, who does harm to no one or nothing, and good to everyone for something.'

'I admire your code,' quoth I, 'and, whenever I want a mediator between Venus and myself, will employ you. Have you always followed your present idle profession, or were you brought up to any other?'

'I was intended for a silversmith,' answered my friend: 'but

Providence willed it otherwise: they taught me from childhood to repeat the Lord's Prayer: Heaven heard me, and delivered me from temptation-there is, indeed, something terribly seducing in the face of a silver spoon.'

'Well,' said I, 'you are the honestest knave that ever I met, and one would trust you with one's purse, for the ingenuousness with which you own you would steal it. Pray, think you, is it probable that I have ever had the happiness of meeting you before? I cannot help fancying so-yet as I have never been in the watch-house or the Old Bailey, my reason tells me that I must be mistaken.'

'Not at all, sir,' returned my worthy; 'I remember you well, for I never saw a face like yours that I did not remember. I had the honour of sipping some British liquors in the same room with yourself one evening; you were then in company with my friend Mr. Gordon.'

'Ha!' said I, 'I thank you for the hint. I now remember well, by the same token that he told me you were the most ingenious gentleman in England, and that you had a happy propensity of mistaking other people's possessions for your own; I congratulate myself upon so desirable an acquaintance.'

My friend smiled with his usual blandness, and made me a low bow of acknowledgment before he resumed :

'No doubt, sir, Mr. Gordon informed you right. I flatter myself few gentlemen understand better than myself the art of appropriation, though I say it who should not say it. I deserve the reputation I have acquired, sir. I have always had illfortune to struggle against, and always have remedied it by two virtues perseverance and ingenuity. To give you an idea of my ill-fortune, know that I have been taken up twenty-three times on suspicion; of my perseverance, know that twenty-three times I have been taken up justly; and, of my ingenuity, know that I have been twenty-three times let off, because there was not a tittle of legal evidence against me !'

'I venerate your talents, Mr. Jonson,' replied I, 'if by the name of Jonson it pleaseth you to be called, although, like the heathen deities, I presume that you have many titles, whereof some are more grateful to your ears than others.'

'Nay,' answered the man of two virtues, 'I am never ashamed of my name; indeed, I have never done anything to

disgrace me. I have never indulged in low company, nor profligate debauchery: whatever I have executed by way of profession has been done in a superior and artistlike manner; not in the rude bungling fashion of other adventurers. Moreover, I have always had a taste for polite literature, and went once as an apprentice to a publishing bookseller, for the sole purpose of reading the new works before they came out. In fine, I have never neglected any opportunity of improving my mind; and the worst that can be said against me is, that I have remembered my catechism, and taken all possible pains "to learn and labour truly to get my living, and to do my duty in that state of life to which it has pleased Providence to call me."

'I have often heard,' answered I, 'that there is honour among thieves ; I am happy to learn from you that there is also religion your baptismal sponsors must be proud of so diligent a godson.'

They ought to be, sir,' replied Mr. Jonson, for I gave them the first specimens of my address: the story is long, but, if you ever give me an opportunity, I will relate it.'

'Thank you,' said I; 'meanwhile I must wish you good morning your way now lies to the right. I return you my best thanks for your condescension, in accompanying so undistinguished an individual as myself.'

'Oh, never mention it, your honour,' rejoined Mr. Jonson. 'I am always too happy to walk with a gentleman of your 66 common sense." Farewell, sir; may we meet again!'

So saying, Mr. Jonson struck into his new road, and we parted.

I went home, musing on my adventure, and delighted with my adventurer. When I was about three paces from the door of my home, I was accosted, in a most pitiful tone, by a poor old beggar, apparently in the last extreme of misery and disease. Notwithstanding my political economy, I was moved into almsgiving by a spectacle so wretched. I put my hand into my pocket, my purse was gone; and, on searching the other, lomy handkerchief, my pocket-book, and a gold locket, which had belonged to Madame D'Anville, had vanished too.

The beggar still continued to importune me.

Give him some food and a half-a-crown,' said I to my land

lady. Two hours afterwards she came up to me—'Oh, sir! my silver tea-pot-that villain the beggar!'

A light flashed upon me— Ah, Mr. Job Jonson! Mr. Job Jonson !' cried I, in an indescribable rage; 'out of my sight, woman! out of my sight!' I stopped short; my speech failed me. Never tell me that shame is the companion of guilt-the sinful knave is never so ashamed of himself as is the innocent fool who suffers by him.-Bulwer Lytton.

Enter DR. PANGLOSS and WAITER.

Pangloss. Let the chariot turn about. Dr. Pangloss in a lord's chariot ! 'Curru portatur eodem.'-Juvenal - Hem!

Waiter !

Waiter. Sir.

Pang. Have you any gentleman here who arrived this morning?

Waiter. There's one in the house now, sir.

Pang. Is he juvenile?

Waiter. No, sir; he's Derbyshire.

Pang. He, he, he! Of what appearance is the gentleman ?
Waiter. Why, plaguy poor, sir.

Pang. 'I hold him rich, al had he not a sherte.'-ChaucerHem! Denominated the Honourable Mr. Dowlas ?

Waiter. Honourable! He left his name plain Dowlas at the bar, sir.

Pang. Plain Dowlas, did he? that will do. For all the rest is leather '

Waiter. Leather, sir!

Pang. And prunello.'-Pope-Hem! Tell Mr. Dowlas a gentleman requests the honour of an interview.

Waiter. This is his room, sir. He is but just stept into our parcel warehouse-he'll be with you directly. [Exit.

Pang. Never before did honour and affluence let fall such a shower on the head of Dr. Pangloss! Fortune, I thank thee! Propitious goddess, I am grateful! I, thy favoured child, who commenced his career in the loftiest apartment of a muffin

maker in Milk Alley. Little did I think—'good easy man'Shakspeare-Hem !—of the riches and literary dignities which

now

My pupil !

Enter DICK DOWLAS.

Dick. [Speaking while entering.] Well, where is the man that wants-oh! you are he, I suppose

Pang. I am the man, young gentleman! 'Homo sum.'— Terence-Hem! Sir, the person who now presumes to address you is Peter Pangloss; to whose name, in the college of Aberdeen, is subjoined LL.D., signifying Doctor of Laws; to which has been recently added the distinction of A. double S.—the Roman initials for a Fellow of the Society of Arts.

Dick. Sir, I am your most obedient, Richard Dowlas; to whose name, in his tailor's bill, is subjoined DR., signifying Debtor; to which are added L.S.D.—the Roman initials for pounds, shillings, and pence.

Pang. Ha! this youth was doubtless designed by destiny to move in the circles of fashion; for he's dipt in debt, and makes a merit of telling it.

[Aside.

Dick. But what are your commands with me, doctor? Pang. I have the honour, young gentleman, of being deputed an ambassador to you from your father.

Dick. Then you have the honour to be ambassador of as good-natured an old fellow as ever sold a ha'porth of cheese in a chandler's shop.

Pang. Pardon me, if, on the subject of your father's cheese, I advise you to be as mute as a mouse in one for the future. 'Twere better to keep that 'alta mente repostum.'-VirgilHem !

Dick. Why, what's the matter? Any misfortune?—Broke, I fear?

Pang. No, not broke; but his name, as 'tis customary in these cases, has appeared in the Gazette. Dick. Not broke, but gazetted!

devil!

Why, zounds and the

Pang. Check your passions-learn philosophy. When the wife of the great Socrates threw a-hum!-threw a tea-pot at his erudite head, he was as cool as a cucumber. When Plato