e a never-failing source of
amusement to the man whose sympathies are hospitable enough to embrace all
his kind, and who, refined though he may be himself, will not sneer at the
humble wit or grotesque peculiarities of the boozing mechanic, the squalid
beggar, the vicious urchin, and all the motley group of the idle, the
reckless, and the imitative that swarm in the alleys and broadways of a
metropolis. He who walks through a great city to find subjects for
weeping, may find plenty at every corner to wring his heart; but let such
a man walk on his course, and enjoy his grief alone--we are not of those
who would accompany him. The miseries of us poor earth-dwellers gain no
alleviation from the sympathy of those who merely hunt them out to be
pathetic over them. The weeping philosopher too often impairs his eyesight
by his woe, and becomes unable from his tears to see the remedies for the
evils which he deplores. Thus it will often be found that the man of no
tears is the truest philanthropist, as he is the best physician who wears
a cheerful face, even in the worst of cases.

So many pens have been employed to point out the miseries, and so many to
condemn the crimes and vices, and more serious follies of the multitude,
that ours shall not increase the number, at least in this chapter. Our
present task shall be less ungracious, and wandering through the busy
haunts of great cities, we shall seek only for amusement, and note as we
pass a few of the harmless follies and whimsies of the poor.

And, first of all, walk where we will, we cannot help hearing from every
side a phrase repeated with delight, and received with laughter, by men
with hard hands and dirty faces, by saucy butcher lads and errand-boys, by
loose women, by hackney coachmen, cabriolet-drivers, and idle fellows who
loiter at the corners of streets. Not one utters this phrase without
producing a laugh from all within hearing. It seems applicable to every
circumstance, and is the universal answer to every question; in short, it
is the favourite slang phrase of the day, a phrase that, while its brief
season of popularity lasts, throws a dash of fun and frolicsomeness over
the existence of squalid poverty and ill-requited labour, and gives them
reason to laugh as well as their more fortunate fellows in a higher stage
of society.

London is peculiarly fertile in this sort of phrases, which spring up
suddenly, no one knows exactly in what spot, and pervade the w