he hears it. He
possesses a rare and blessed gift of ubiquity. At the very time that he
is watching these exalted personages in the House, he is chatting
confidentially with Hayter in the lobby, or looking in at the Opera, or
gossiping behind the scenes with Wright and Paul Bedford, or having a
chop at the Garrick with Thackeray, or shining at Lady Plantagenet's
soiree "as a bright particular star." I wonder the dear creature's head
is not quite turned with the attentions he receives from the nobility,
with whom he is as intimate as I with Smiths and Browns. Occasionally I
meet with a few London Correspondents imbibing together their frugal
half-and-half. It does me good to hear them. It reminds me of Elia's
Captain Jackson's bacchanalian orgies, where "wine we had none, nor,
except on very rare occasions, spirits; but the sensation of wine was
there." Says one to another, "Oh, how did you get on last night?"
"Pretty well," is the reply, "considering there were none but lords
there." Walking in a low neighbourhood, I meet one. I ask after his
health. "Devilish seedy," says he; "up too late last night at Lady ---,"
naming one of the proudest members of the proudest aristocracies in the
world. Yet are they too uncultivated, and hairy, and _outre_, to pass
with credit in Belgravia. Their literary efforts are not remarkable for
polish. They affect a graphic style, and are not sparing in the use of
slang. They eschew the classics, and evince but a very superficial
knowledge of literature, save that of the current year. They are chiefly
strong in politics, and for the actors on that stage have that contempt
which familiarity is said to breed, but which, as in the present case,
sometimes flourishes without it. They view the busy scene as the gods of
Epicurus the follies of mankind. This man is a fool--that a tool. As a
rule, officials are run down, and some illustrious-obscure--perhaps the
borough representative, if he is on good terms with the paper--is
suspiciously and inordinately puffed up. I often wish our London
Correspondent would address the House. What a figure he would make on
some matter of business, the details of which it is impossible to make
interesting! The chances are that he is a Scotchman or an Irishman; that
his impudence is merely confined to paper; that he does not shine either
at the Temple Forum or Codgers' Hall. There would be a burst of laughter
when he rose. They ought to be more