contested an Irish borough on Protestant principles,
but unfortunately, instead of being returned, found himself in gaol for
election expenses. Besides these, there are many third and fourth-rate
literary men--a class, I fear (I speak of the minors), the most braggart,
lying, and needy under heaven--men who are going to do wonders, but who
never do--whose success, if such a term may be applied to their career,
arises simply from their power of brag, and from the possession of an
enviable amount of self-esteem. Then there are briefless barristers, but
too happy to have an opportunity of airing their dictionaries, and
tradesmen, and clerks, all fancying that there is no need why they should
hide their talents under a napkin. Still these places do not flourish,
and there are more bad speeches made than good ones. You are cooped up
in an inconvenient apartment, suffocated by tobacco-smoke, and very
unpleasantly affected by the beer and gin-and-water which every one feels
bound to consume. The waiter is in the room, and you are expected to
give your orders. The speaking is a secondary consideration. The first
thing you are required to do is to drink. I have how in my mind's eye a
young fellow who was a great man at one of these places. He was a clerk
with limited means, but he came to these places night after night, and
drank and spent his money freely. It is the old tale over again. He was
intrusted with his employer's cash. He applied some of it to liquidate
his expenses. He was unable to replace it. Discovery was made at last;
he is now in Newgate, and his wife--for he was just married--is breaking
her young heart with shame and want. The curse of these public-houses is
that they lead men into expense and reduce them into poverty, if they do
not almost necessitate crime. A discussion is all very well, and the
habit of being able to get up and say a few words when occasion requires
pertinent and _apropos_ is invaluable, but to acquire that habit it is
scarcely worth while to sit all night toping, while Smithers is playing
old gooseberry with his H's, or O'Flaherty raving of the wrongs of the
Green Isle. The questions discussed are generally such as are peculiar
to the time. Was Lord Cardigan a hero? Does Sir Benjamin Hall deserve
well of the public for his conduct with reference to Sunday bands? Does
the Palmerston cabinet deserve the support of the country? Would Lord
John Russell's scheme of national e