sanguine expectations and mortifying disappointments." By-the-by, if he continues this train of reasoning we shall see him become a philosopher or a professor at the least!

I saw a letter yesterday, written by Burdett to Mr. Nicholls, in which he says: "I take the hints you have given me kindly, but I had previously made up my mind! Believe me, when I assure you that I mean to steer clear of all blackguards, high and low!" Sir Francis dates his letter from Colonel Hulse's marine villa, at Hastings, where he is attending on his eldest son, who lately met with an accident by a fall.

Sir Robert Wilson in reply to an observation on a paragraph, relative to Carnot's being sent to Magdeburg, which appeared a few days since in the journals, said yesterday, "There is not a word of truth in it. Here is a letter (producing it) from Carnot just come." He declined showing its contents. It was not directed to him, but to Dupin (Sir R. Wilson's late advocate), who is now in London.

Peltier, says the Courier newspaper, is to receive a courier from Paris, instead of money, in return for its supporting the interests of the court.

In the foregoing I omitted to mention that a train of artillery was brought on Friday last from Woolwich, and deposited in the Gardens of Carlton House.

You will perceive from the papers that Lord Cochrane is remanded to the King's Bench. He still refuses to pay the fine of 1007. This evening his friends will meet to form a, committee for the express purpose of petitioning the Regent against the decision of the court. If it is refused, he means to apply to Parliament.

A pamphlet is out this morning, entitled "A Remedy for the present Distress of the Country," which represents the deteriorated value of property to have originated in the diminution of the currency, and recommending an immediate issue of 20,000,000l. on government security, without interest, in loans to distressed agriculturists and manufacturers. The pamphlet depreciates economy as mere drivelling, and more likely to increase than diminish existing difficulties. The entire tendency of the work induces a suspicion that it is written by some person in office, which is corroborated by a report in circulation some days, that government has it in contemplation to lend to the classes of persons described in the pamphlet a large sum at a reduced interest of three or four per cent. If such a plan be in contemplation, and if the distribution remain in the hands of ministers, it will be attended with a proportionate increase of influence. In the selection of objects, they will, of course, incline to their friends, and will become the mortgagees of the landed property in the country to the extent of the loan.

London, November 26, 1816. Town is still a "dreary void." It is absolutely deserted by all those whom business does not chain to the metropolis. The rumours in circulation are wholly without interest, except the hoax upon the Chronicle yesterday. The paper was a circular. It was signed Arbuthnot. Byrne, at the Post, well knowing Charles's hand, and the communication not bearing the smallest resemblance to it, he was induced, immediately on its receipt, to go down to the Treasury, and there discovered the imposition. The general tenor of the note convulsed the town, and nothing was talked of but the suspension of the habeas corpus, and the revival of gagging bills, &c.

FOUR-AND-TWENTY HOURS AT BOULOGNE.

BY THE HONOURABLE PERCY FITZ HOWARD.

What's sport to you, is death to us.-Fable of the Frogs.

THE Spaniards have a proverbial expression, to the effect that "No man ever saw to-morrow," which is but another way of saying, that it is impossible to foretel the events of the coming day, to

Look into the womb of time,

And say which grain will grow, and which will not.

There is little doubt of this, even if poets and philosophers had neglected to tell us so, our every-day experience assures us of its truth, and what I have to relate is corroborative of the fact.

A twelvemonth ago I little anticipated what would be my occupation at the present moment, and, on this day twelvemonths, the events which then occurred, were certainly a surprise to the parties chiefly affected by them.

Before I commence my narrative, it is, perhaps, desirable that I should say a few words concerning my actual position in society.

Without entering too minutely into family affairs, or boring my readers with dull details, as to who my parents were, how they lived, where they dwelt, and what was the course of education adopted to make me what I am, it may be sufficient for me to say, that the name I at present bear is a highly aristocratic and honourable one, and was never disgraced by me, though circumstances may have thrown a temporary cloud over my actual position. An extreme sensitiveness on this point has been my prevailing characteristic through life; to preserve an unsullied name and an unimpeachable reputation, I have invariably changed the former once a month since I was first launched into that vortex of dissipation called "Life in London." It is, perhaps, on this account, combined with a certain amount of personal agrémens which rather distinguish me from the herd, that in the polite female circles where I visit, I am generally known under the denomination of "The Agreeable Mystery.

"

In personal appearance I am, of course, tall and slight, with a profusion of dark hair, which falls in heavy masses on my shoulders from a lofty and intellectual brow; my eyes are large, and full of intelligence and expression; my nose boldly formed; my mouth firmly yet delicately cut; my chin dimpled and roundly chiselled; my whiskers curling and abundant; and my complexion of that fine olive or cream-coloured tint which, denoting a constant heart,

Has its attractions too.

I am not sitting before the glass as I write this description; unfortunately, in the place where I am at present residing, that luxury is not permitted. No! I paint from memory; and if what I have read of others should happen to interfere with what I remember of myself, the reader will be pleased indulgently to consider that the general features of heroes have an uniform resemblance to each other, and that the portrait which I have sketched is intended to typify those of the “Order” to which I belong.

My costume varies according to circumstances. I generally dress as well as I can, without regard to time or place. For instance, if on a rainy day I should happen to be seated in a coffee-house, and a stranger entering, were to throw off a fashionable cloak or paletot, sufficiently near to where I was seated, I should have no hesitation, on the first favourable opportunity, to take that cloak or paletot, to walk out of the coffee-house, and deliberately to put it on, even in the wet and at the risk of spoiling it, so indifferent am I as to weather or expense. I would treat a new hat in precisely the same way, and the newer it was the greater would be my contempt for those petty observances of carefulness which destroy all that is bold or manly within us. From this slight illustration may be gathered the mode which I adopt, in preference, in forming a wardrobe, when tailors and others, who suffered, cease to send home" to my hotel" the articles of raiment which I may have ordered. It may be thought that this means of supply is precarious, and might expose the wearer to certain accidents of recognition likely to prove unpleasant; but the manner in which an act is performed is every thing, and whenever I undertake an affair of this nature, I always conduct it in such a way as to render myself perfectly easy with regard to the consequences. To mix in society with the man whose newest coat you are wearing, while you are whirling his wife or sister through the mazes of the polka, may be considered an act of boldness, especially if you are not an invited guest, and have merely chanced the party, announcing yourself in the midst of an uncontrollable fit of coughing, which you cannot subdue. Yet this I have done, and I need not add, successfully.

From this revelation of my views and habits, some idea may be formed of the class with which I am identified. It was necessary that I should be thus particular, as it furnishes a key to the adventure which I am about to describe.

On the morning of Easter Sunday last year, a great number of persons were assembled on one of the wharfs immediately below Londonbridge, preparatory to the departure of a large steamer for Boulogne. The "spirited" proprietors of the "Public Accommodation Cheap Steam Navigation Company," inspired by the truly British resolve of ruining all competitors, had announced, by placard and advertisement, that their fine boat, the Leviathan, would make a trip to the coast of France, sailing on Easter Sunday, landing passengers at Boulogne, and remaining till the tide served for returning on the evening of the following day; and all this, it was said, was to be accomplished at the moderate charge of five shillings a head, exclusive of provisions and wines.

I stop not to inquire how far the company sought a remuneration in the perspective consumption of the last-mentioned items, proportionately rated to cover the cheapness of the fare; I have only here to observe, that their experiment, so far as numbers were concerned, answered completely. The boat contained as many as it could by any possibility accommodate, and amongst the number were myself and a party of twelve friends, who were thus lured to throw away their money upon the enemies of our country, as in the true spirit of an Englishman, I cannot but consider all who speak a different language from ourselves.

The account of what particularly befel during our voyage down the river, need not now be detailed. Before the close of the day many of

the admirers of fine prospects lounged over the taffrail, and gazers upon the glad waters,-green as themselves, and some even of those whom the turbulence of the waves affected differently, leaving their hind and side-pockets as open as their hearts or mouths, found themselves something poorer than when they first set out. The clique to which I belonged were not in this predicament; they might, indeed, be said to have already derived advantage from the excursion; certainly, when they came in sight of Boulogne, they had not fewer gloves and handkerchiefs, nor less coin in their possession than they were lords and masters of while on the wharf in London; neither had they been unobservant of what might be useful to them on their return. These, however, were minor considerations at the moment. The object of myself and friends was to give a good account of France, and to this we bent our best energies.

I have observed that it is the distinguishing feature of "us youth," to be remarkable for our manner and style; we exhibit on all occasions a fine air of high gentlemanly feeling, reserved, yet free from pride, stately, yet not without condescension and affability. These qualities were brought out in striking relief during our voyage, and were so forcibly contrasted with the common, I will not say vulgar air of the rest of the passengers, that many on board shrewdly suspected we were noblemen in disguise; Lord Arthur Fitz-Mizen, the Earl of Spritsail, the Hon. Mr. Binnacle, &c., &c., on a cruise incognito, to enjoy a little of a new kind of life. We did not discountenance the idea, and were, at any rate, inwardly sustained by the consciousness of being quite as "gentlemanly" in our appearance and behaviour as the foremost of them all. On landing, therefore, on the pier at Boulogne, we were none of us astonished at being addressed as Milors," while the energetic commissionaires thrust their cards into our hands, recommending every hotel as the best. Uninfluenced by national predilections, we selected that which sounded most French in our ears, and whose commissionaires spoke the worst English. We were accordingly marshalled to the "Hôtel des Bangs," as one of our party facetiously yet unpremeditatedly termed it.

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The frequency of these "trips" to the French coast has caused their nature to be well understood at Calais, Dunquerque, and Boulogne, which are the ports chiefly visited; no surprise was, therefore, manifested at our not being provided with any superfluous quantity of baggage,though a modest equipment is looked upon in a very different way in Belgium. A few carpet-bags, a good many cloaks, two or three umbrellas, and one or two hat-boxes, made a tolerable show for those who merely came to pay a flying visit. Our appearance, moreover, contributed much to the general impression, not a man among us who did not sport more or less of (mosaic) jewellery about his person.

When we arrived at our hotel, and the commissionaire had loudly rung and as loudly exclaimed, "Ces sont des Milors Anglais," a host of garçons, headed by monsieur et madame, came forth to greet us, and great was the turmoil that ensued at the sight of our numerous party. As I happened to be a little more conversant with the language of the Gaul than the rest of the party, upon me devolved the office of interpreter and director-general, and, as had been previously arranged, I took upon myself the ordering of affairs. The master bowed, and the lady curtsied with the inimitable grace of their country and profession, and our recog

nition of their politeness was as lordly as could be desired. The majority, with their hands thrust into the side-pockets of their Chesterfields, and cigars in their mouths, ogled the femmes de chambres, who, impelled by duty or curiosity, soon joined the crowd; a few said "Wee, wee," to every thing that was addressed to them; some, whose curls were not sewn into their hats, raised the latter "à la Prince Albert ;" and I, assuming the air of a magnifico, ordered beds for thirteen, and a "diner superbe."

"A la bonne heure, milor!" exclaimed the host, leading the way into an extensive saloon, with twelve windows on each side, decked with scarlet and white curtains, and looking-glasses between each,-" à la bonne heure, mais c'est un peu tard pour le diner ; si ces messieurs voudraient bien s'amuser un peu, nous aurions le temps de leur donner un excellent souper."

"Comment!" returned I (but as I am in England I shall leave off speaking French, except where an expletive may require it). "What! must we wait any time?"

"I am afraid so," said our host; "it will take some time to get a dinner ready for so many."

"Well, then," I replied, "you talk of amusement; what can we do to amuse ourselves between this and supper? I dare say we can wait till then, as some of us have scarcely got over the effect of the voyage.

"How to find amusement at Boulogne, le Dimanche de Pâques! there is a superb ball at the theatre !"

"A ball is there? But it will be so late."

"Au contraire, monsieur, it begins very early, and will be over by eleven, by which time-attendez, monsieur, le chef,"-and he spoke for a few moments with a stout gentleman in a white nightcap and apron, who favoured him in reply with a few shrugs and a number of nods; then, turning to me (who had in the meantime given the office to my friend), he resumed: "Oui, milor, vous aurez un souper magnifique. Voilà, monsieur le chef qui en repond."

The stout gentleman then appealed to raised his cap with one hand, and placed the other gracefully on the "petite rotondité" which he called his stomach.

"Soyez tranquilles, messieurs," he gently murmured, “il y aura de quoi faire un souper pour des princes.'

"But about this ball," said I to the host, "where can we get tickets? They must be purchased at once," and I pulled forth my pocket-book and took out a roll of bank (of elegance) notes: "Let me see, how many of us are there going? what's the damage? but, diable! I have no French money. Have you any gold, Fitzherbert ?"

A particularly tall and graceful friend, who understood my signal, drew a purse full of (very excellent imitation) gold markers from his waistcoat pocket, and tossing it to me with a very languid air, said,

"Take what you want, my dear fellow."

"Nonsense," I exclaimed, as if suddenly recollecting myself,-" stuff -I had forgotten, you are all to settle with me afterwards. This will only confuse our accounts. Here, take your purse again," and I handed it back to him; "I can do without it; I shall change at the banker's to-morrow. Meantime," turning to the landlord, "you can get us the