mbitious of displaying his talent for descriptive humour,
gave the following sketch of a fashionable dinner party:--

"I went with Colonel A------, by invitation, to dine with Lord F.,
in Portman Square. Lord F. is a complete gentleman; and, though sadly
inconvenienced by the gout, received me with that frank, cordial,
and well-bred ease which always characterizes the better class of the
English nobility. The company consisted of two or three men of political
eminence; Lord Wetherwool, a great agriculturist; Viscount Flash, an
amateur of the Fancy; Lord Skimcream, an ex-amateur director of a winter
theatre; Lord Flute, an amateur director of the Opera, whose family
motto, by a lucky coincidence, is '_Opera non Verba_.' There were,
moreover, Mr. Highsole, a great tragedian, and my friend Tom Sapphic,
the dandy poet; one of those bores, the 'Lions' of the season. He had
just brought out a new tragedy, called the 'Bedlamite in Buff,' under
the auspices of Lord Skimcream; and it had been received, as
the play-bills announced, with 'unprecedented, overwhelming, and
electrifying applause.' Of course I concluded that it would live two
nights, and accounted for the dignified _hauteur_ of my friend Tom's
bow, as he caught my eye, by taking into consideration the above-named
unprecedented success. There was also present the universal genius, Dr.
Project, to whom I once introduced you. He is a great chymist, and
a still greater _gourmand_; moreover, a musician; has a hand in the
leading reviews; a share in the most prominent of the daily papers.
"Little was said till the wine and desert were introduced; and then the
conversation, as might naturally be expected from the elements of which
the party was composed, split itself into several subdivisions. As I
sat ~~407~~~ next to Colonel A., I had the advantage of his greater
familiarity with the personages at table. Lord Wetherwool was as absurd
as he could possibly be on the subject of fattening oxen. Lord Flute and
Viscount Flash laid bets on the celerity of two maggots, which they had
set at liberty from their respective nut-shells. The noble ex-director,
Highsole and Sapphic, were extremely warm in discussing the causes of
the present degradation of the stage; each shuffling the responsibility
from the members of their own profession and themselves. Dr. Project
entertained his noble host with an interminable dissertation upon
oxygen, hydrogen, and all the _gens_ in the chemical voc