for the most part in deep cellars,
or small back parlours, and who seldom come forth into the world, except
in the dusk and coolness of the evening, when they may be seen seated, in
chairs on the pavement, smoking their pipes, or watching the gambols of
their engaging children as they revel in the gutter, a happy troop of
infantine scavengers. Their countenances bear a thoughtful and a dirty
cast, certain indications of their love of traffic; and their habitations
are distinguished by that disregard of outward appearance and neglect of
personal comfort, so common among people who are constantly immersed in
profound speculations, and deeply engaged in sedentary pursuits.

We have hinted at the antiquity of our favourite spot. 'A
Monmouth-street laced coat' was a by-word a century ago; and still we
find Monmouth-street the same. Pilot great-coats with wooden buttons,
have usurped the place of the ponderous laced coats with full skirts;
embroidered waistcoats with large flaps, have yielded to double-breasted
checks with roll-collars; and three-cornered hats of quaint appearance,
have given place to the low crowns and broad brims of the coachman
school; but it is the times that have changed, not Monmouth-street.
Through every alteration and every change, Monmouth-street has still
remained the burial-place of the fashions; and such, to judge from all
present appearances, it will remain until there are no more fashions to
bury.

We love to walk among these extensive groves of the illustrious dead, and
to indulge in the speculations to which they give rise; now fitting a
deceased coat, then a dead pair of trousers, and anon the mortal remains
of a gaudy waistcoat, upon some being of our own conjuring up, and
endeavouring, from the shape and fashion of the garment itself, to bring
its former owner before our mind's eye. We have gone on speculating in
this way, until whole rows of coats have started from their pegs, and
buttoned up, of their own accord, round the waists of imaginary wearers;
lines of trousers have jumped down to meet them; waistcoats have almost
burst with anxiety to put themselves on; and half an acre of shoes have
suddenly found feet to fit them, and gone stumping down the street with a
noise which has fairly awakened us from our pleasant reverie, and driven
us slowly away, with a bewildered stare, an object of astonishment to the
good people of Monmouth-street, and of no slight suspicion to the
policeme