mind you
of the one only thing which you would fain forget;--have you ever felt
any thing like this, reader? If you have not, then thank God, by way of
grace, before you out with your knife and fork and begin to cut up the
contents of these pages.

I have been and am now suffering under one of these varieties of
"Phobias," and my disease is a Politicophobia, I will describe the
symptoms.

I am now in the metropolis of England, and when I walk out every common
house appears to me to be the House of Commons--every lordly mansion the
House of Lords--every man I meet, instead of being a member of society,
is transferred by imagination into a member of the senate--every
chimney-sweep into a bishop, and a Bavarian girl, with her "Py a proom,"
into an ex-chancellor. If I return home, the ring at the bell reminds
me of a Peel--as I mount the stairs I think of the "Lobby"--I throw
myself on the sofa, and the cushion is transformed into a woolsack--if a
solitary visitor calls in, I imagine a public meeting, and call out
chair! chair!--and I as often address my wife as Mr Speaker, as I do
with the usual appellative of "my dear."

This incubus, like the Catholic anathema, pursues me everywhere--at
breakfast, the dry toast reminds me of the toasts at public dinners--
tea, of the East India charter--sugar, of the West India question--the
loaf, of agricultural distress--and, as every one knows that London eggs
are a lottery, according as they prove bad or good, so am I reminded of
a Whig or Tory measure. When the newspaper is brought in, I walk round
and round it as a dog will do round the spot he is about to lie down
upon. I would fain not touch it; but at last, like a fascinated bird
who falls per force into the reptile's mouth, so do I plunge into its
columns, read it with desperation, and when the poison has circulated,
throw it away in despair. If I am reminded to say grace at dinner, I
commence "My Lords, and gentlemen;" and when I seek my bed, as I light
my taper, I move "that the House do now adjourn." The tradesmen's bills
are swelled by my disease into the budget, and the checks upon my banker
into supplies. Even my children laugh and wonder at the answers which
they receive. Yesterday one brought me her book of animals, and
pointing to a boa constrictor, asked its name, and I told her it was an
_O'Connell_. I am told that I mentioned the names of half the members
of the Upper and Lower House, and at the time rea