swearing that, on a day of such fun and jollity, nobody should depart till midnight. Looked about for the fun and joility: Momus's writ returned Non est inventus.

1 P. M. Affairs at a dead stand-still. Piano opened by Emma. Three aunts reinstated near the hearth-rug. Two of them beckoned their former captives, but youngsters hung fire, as not approving of any more head-patting. Bride tried her hand at " She loves and loves for ever," but burst into tears at the second line, and finished the business with a glass of water. Two dingy trustees began to pore over draft of marriage settlement; the words "3 per cents-vested— body-issue, if any-then to such only child-toties quoties," being distinctly audible. Flattened my nose against window-pane, and betted sixpences with Bob Blueball upon passing hackney-coaches: if number above 500, I was to pay him; if below, he me. Hack chaise and pair drove up to door, to convey happy couple, accompanied by Nancy, to Star and Garter, at Richmond. Kisses, tears, and farewells. Bridegroom's asinine aspect in no way diminished. Had he been ridden by Balaam, Martin of Galway's bill would have protected him from ill usage. Tried to get a kiss from the bride, and got my mouth full of Brussels lace.

2 P. M. Ennui banished by political discussion. Great abuse of the Cortes by Mr. Pob-joy for cowardice: proposition denied by Sir Christopher Contract, who swore that Spain owed all her prosperity to that quarter. Found at length that they were talking of two distinct people, Mr. Pob-joy alluding to the submissionists at Cadiz, and Sir Christopher to the gentleman in armour personated by Mr. Cooper at Covent-garden theatre. Wife much occupied in shewing Lady Suffrage the mode in which the scarlet tips were made to adhere to her white feathers. Lord Mayor's-day dinner discussed; three men in armour criticised; and many causes assigned for the absence of the nobility. General opinion that they were all deep in civic magistrate's books, and dreaded being dunned. Another political storm. Sir Christopher contended that Lord Holland ought to be thrown into the sea; and Sir Samuel Suffrage swore that Mr. Canning deserved to be hanged. Thought to soften down matters, as I do at home; so I suggested that Mr. Canning should only be half hanged, and that Lord Holland should be sunk only up to the middle in Probert's pond. Proposition treated by both parties with an indignant frown, as proceeding from a wretch who knew nothing of the matter. Took up Morning Chronicle, and read for the fourth time account of sale at Gill's-hill cottage. Mr. Prune, a great collector of curiosities, shewed me a feather from the bed that Miss Noyes slept in the night of the murder; knocked down to him yesterday by Page the auctioneer at £4. 108. Had nearly finished that article, and was setting about reading the whole paper, beginning with No. 17,028, and ending with " Printed and Published," when old Blueball whisked the paper out of my hand, and exclaimed, "What! reading? No reading to-day. This is, as Tom Thumb says, 'a day of fun and jollity." Wondered when the fun and jollity was to begin. Looked out of the window, and envied the black sweeper officiating at the base of Wilkes's pedestal.-N. B. Idleness a very laborious trade. If any youth has no objection to a fatiguing occupation, let him be bound apprentice to a nothing-to-do-man.

3 P. M.-Determined to stand it no longer. Watched opportunity, when host was chuckling and poking the ribs of trustee at the window, to open parlour-door softly. Stole down stairs on tiptoe; rushed out of back door; put my foot upon an inverted pail; used mop as schoolboys do a leaping-pole, cleared Mother Mangle's railway; got safe into Flower-de-Luce-court; bolted out into Fleet-market; walked briskly up Ludgate-hill; and on turning up Ave Maria-Lane, heard a hard breathing in my rear. Heart palpitated like the woman's in Ovid, who was turned into a holly-bush. Quickened my pace; and on entering Paternoster-row, bobbed swiftly to the left, and dived into the viscera of Newgate-market. Slackened my pace, no longer dreading pursuit: walked leisurely along Cheapside, the Poultry, and Cornhill; and, with great delight, on full 'Change, mixed myself with Jews, jobbers, brokers, and Turkey merchants. Talked with Moses Tresorio, whose splashed black satin breeches, boots, and spurs, denoted Chattered with the muddy state of the road from Stamford-hill. Cringe the broker about yellow pine timber, Zante fustic, musquash skins, tub bark, and gum arabic: was in the very act of looking at stonemason chipping the smut from the dilated nostrils of George the First, when somebody gently touched my elbow, and on turning round, to my great consternation! beheld Blueball's shopman, who, touching his hat, exclaimed, "Beg pardon, Sir, but master says you must come back." Gave him a shilling to promise to say he could not meet with me. Went home, and caught Peter Pencil, my foreman, practising the jumping waltz with Betty, with a blind fiddler aiding and abetting upon a two-stringed kit.

5 P. M. Went back to dinner, and mollified Blueball with a story about a returned acceptance of Colonel Palaver's, and the necessity of giving notice to the drawer. Ladled out the peas-soup, sitting between maiden aunt No. 1, and Lady Suffrage. Long story from the latter about dead bodies found in a cave under Manchester-buildings, with dice-boxes in their hands. Conversation during dinner rather miscellaneous, the subjects being length of leases in Long-Lane, Lilliputpavement in St. James's-square, massacre of Mr. Barber Beaumont in his ground-floor study, price of a couple of Dorking fowls, Miss Waithman's feathers, Letitia Hawkins, Clara Fisher, Moore's "Fly not yet," and Edwin's "Fal de ral tit."

6 P. M.-Hints from old Blueball to me to propose health of bride and bridegroom: trembled as I filled my glass: had the requisite speech quite by heart yesterday, having been heard by wife without missing a word. Got upon my legs, and transposed a dozen initials, viz. -said that "I rose to toast a propose, which I had no doubt the company would delight with a great deal of drink; that I was not much used to spublic peaking, and therefore should merely health the drink of Mr. and Mrs. Richard Highdry, and may they be a cappy hupple!" Speech received with great applause, notwithstanding the hey contrary sides of its consonants. Mrs. Blueball burst into tears in order to return thanks-felt highly flattered by the flattering manner in which, &c.; that she had lost the flower of her flock, (here the eldest survivor reddened)—she should never see her equal, (here the second survivor bridled) she hoped and trusted she never should lose another. (Here Emily, just come out, giggled and cast a glance upon her flirting asso

ciate Peter Prune, as much as to say "I would not be a good offer in her way.") She hoped the company had been feasted to their satisfaction (applause): she left the management of the wine to Mr. Bluebell, but in justice to herself, she must say she bought the almonds and raisins from Groom's opposite, and blanched the former with her own hands. (Great and continued applause.)

7 P. M.-Sad symptoms of music. Heard Bob Blueball squeaking a preparatory tenor, and Mr. Peter Prune, who piques himself upon his base, grumbling in his gizzard. Anticipated with horror the accustomed routine, viz. "Hark the lark," the "Loadstars," "When shall we three meet again," and "Drink to me only," for the ninety-ninth time. Entertained an apprehension that the parties might even be "Deserted by the waning moon," when providentially a cry of "Fire!" saluted our ears from the street. Ran to the window, threw back the curtain, and found it to proceed from two butcher's boys, who with pop-guns were playing at duels. Said nothing, but walked back with a grave face. Wife in hysterics already. Beheld the Albion engines pumping in at the parlour-window. Insisted, if I loved her, that I should call a hackney-coach, greeting me with accustomed rondeau, "Do make haste, do." Threw up the sash and shouted "Coach," in a voice that might have drawn one from the Pavement in Moorfields. Wife darted into vehicle in an access of terror, quite forgetting the shawl which she had given shopman for safe custody. Hasty adieus, and tea and toast in Bush-lane.

If nobody marries till Simon Swandown again attends the ceremony, Malthus will have no reason to grumble at excess of population.

Do you call my religion unlawful and light?
No, believe me, the creed that I cherish,

Is that souls, which are sparks from the fountain of light,
With their perishing dust shall not perish.

For I cannot imagine my love quench'd in death,
Though the dross of our being should sever,

And the thought of thee rivets a chain on my faith,
That there is an hereafter for ever.

N.

ΤΟ

THE SIXTH VOLUME.