d, and the
gay-hearted Echo left once more at liberty to wing his flight wherever
his fancy might direct. On our road home, it was no trifling amusement
to hear him relate

"The customs of the place,
The manners of its mingled populace,
The lavish waste, the riot, and excess,
Neighbour'd by famine, and the worst distress;
The decent few, that keep their own respect,
And the contagion of the place reject;
The many, who, when once the lobby's pass'd,
Away for ever all decorum cast,
And think the walls too solid and too high,
To let the world behold their infamy."

Ever on the alert for novelty, we hopped into and dined at the Coal Hole
Tavern in the Strand, certainly one of the best and cheapest ordinaries
in London, and the society not of the meanest. Rhodes himself is a
punster and a poet, sings a good song, and sells the best of wine; and
what renders mine host more estimable, is the superior manners of the
man. Here was congregated together a mixed, but truly merry company,
composed of actors, authors, reporters, clerks in public departments,
and half-pay officers, full of whim, wit, and eccentricity, which, when
the mantling bowl had circulated, did often "set the table in a roar."
In the evening, Transit proposed to us a visit to the Life Academy,
Somerset House, where he was an admitted student; but on trying the
experiment, was not able to effect our introduction: you must therefore
be content with ~365~~his sketch of the _true sublime_, in which he has
contrived to introduce the portraits of several well-known academicians
_(see plate)_.

[Illustration: page365]

Thus far Horatio Heartly had written, when the unexpected appearance
of Bernard Blackmantle in London cut short the thread of his narrative.
"Where now, mad-cap?" said the sincere friend of his heart: "what
unaccountable circumstance can have brought you to the village in term
and out of vacation?" "A very uncommon affair, indeed, for a young
author, I assure you: I have had the good fortune to receive a notice
from the managers of the two Theatres Royal, that my play is accepted at
Covent Garden, and my farce at Drury Lane, and am come up post-haste
to read them in the green rooms to-morrow, and take the town by storm
before the end of the next month." "It is a dangerous experiment," said
Horatio. "I know it," replied the fearless Bernard; "but he