and his last rubber at the expense of irritable, nagging, niggling, little Spiffle! Both are gone-Spiffle and Hippy! I could have better spared Spiffle. They died in the same week. He loved to be wherever

Hippy was, and follow where he went. If he overtook him on his road from these low regions to the immortal skies, I warrant me be snubbed him to the last; that the ill-assorted pair went quietly quarrelling along till Peter hailed them from the heavenly gate, and called them both to order; and that the gentle, generous spirit of Hippy took all the blame of their indecent brawling upon himself, and kindly catching his companion spirit by the hand, begged earnestly, lovingly, and with all humility, a heavenly rest and lodging for them both.

"Take to thy lap, dear Earth, the good old boy,

Who did thy tasks with such a loving joy—

[sometimes interspersed, April-like, with a little lov-. ing sorrow]

Wherefore lie lightly on his temples grey,

And let the turf that wraps him flower in May."

LEIGH HUNT,

K*

EYE-ACQUAINTANCES.

GREAT cities necessarily furnish more numerous examples of the vices, virtues, passions, humours, and characters of men than are to be observed in smaller places, and among smaller communities. With the last, the actors are so few, and the stage so circumscribed, that if a principal player in the drama of their district has a hole in his robes, we detect it the instant he appears; if an underling comes on to the boards with dirty hose and a doublet of coarse linsey Woolsey, instead of the broadcloth of the better part of the company, we at once see the condition of the man, and assign him his proper place in the scene.— But in London the spectator sits before a different stage-one so wide that, though he may take in the mighty whole, he cannot, unless curious and prying, see the component parts. He, however, who diligently uses his eyes and ears may still detect many minute circumstances which would escape a more comprehensive vision-catch some nicer points of the bye-play of the performers, and hear the prompter now whispering "the word" at the wing on the P. S., and now raving behind the curtain at the blunders of the scene-shifters. It is a glorious arena in which to sit or stand as a spectator-the scenery and machinery on a gigantic scale, the company her Majesty's servants by an older patent than that of Covent Garden, and the audience as numerous and as much

classified as if the theatre were divided into pit, boxes, and gallery.

-

But to drop this metaphor, and come to plain speak, ing, London, with all its vastness, which is perpetu ally enlarging-its multitude, whose number is "Legion"-its business, which is ever working-its vices, which are always alive and active to destroy, and its virtues, as wakeful and watchful to restore, it is a never-wearying, "never-ending, still beginning," evervarying study to eyes which can see and ears which can hear. A careless observer beholds only the motion of the panorama as it glides by him: to the eyes of a gaping provincial it is a dizzying sight, and makes him drunk with wonder: but he who composedly studies the vision as it flies, and takes time to consider it, gazes with wonder too, but with a fearful wonder-one which touches the chord of all that is human in his heart, and takes him out of himself, and gives him-soul, and thoughts, and heart-to mankind. If he feels that he is but an unit in the amount of millions, he also feels that he has a place in the account, and standing in it adds to, or by standing out of it, diminishes, though in so small a ratio, the general value of the sum total. While he is thus employed in examining individuals as they pass before him in mental review, it is hard if reflection returns not back upon himself, and, after having satis fied itself how the objects of its study have performed their parts, originates an inquisition into the part he has himself played. A bad man may think his part in society, whether done well or ill, of no consequence to it: a better man will remember that large societies are made up of individuals, and consider that his bad or good conduct makes all the difference; and that if every man took to himself impunity of action, society could no more cohere together than a rope of sand.

These grave matters, however, are not now my

theme; but lighter trifles-" trifles light as air." My speculations are upon those many old friends of mine whom I shall call my Eye-Acquaintances.

Of these I have a large assortment, and most extensive town-connexion. I find them, and meet with them in all parts of this great city, but chiefly in one old favourite haunt of my young days-the Temple Gardens a pleasant place I had not visited for many years, till I again straggled into it this evening, and found it the same agreeable scene which it was wont to be, with many new faces and new performers mixed up with the old company; but I was pleased to see that they worked harmoniously together, and that the entertainments were conducted pretty much as usual. As I never forget a face that I have seen, if only for a minute, I soon picked out my old friends from the new, re-introduced myself, and spent a happy evening with them, thinking of old times, when we were young.

In no other city in the world could you have what I shall call an eye-acquaintance with a man for many years-lose sight of him perhaps for thirty years and then meet with him again; and all this timeduring this long interval-he has, very likely, never been a month out of London, nor have you!-Here comes one old friend as an instance. You see that smart-looking man?-him with his hat on one side ? -I am now past forty-I knew him, by eye-sight only, when I was fourteen. He was at that time the model of a well-dressed man; so he is now: in nothing has he" suffered a land change," except that his hair, which was then black, is now sprinkled with grey; his face, which was always grave, is somewhat graver; but in symmetry and in smartness he is the selfsame man. His black cravat is adjusted with the same nicety;-his hessians-for he persists in his old costume-tight pantaloons and boots-are as well-fitting and as brilliant as ever-his leg as

well-proportioned. Time has marked me, and "writ ten strange defeatures in my face;" he has touched him so slightly, that he is none the worse for his annotations. Go, then, fresh reminiscence of the years that are gone-you are older, but you confess it not; I am older, and I cannot disguise it. Thirty years have made strange alterations in most things which then were thought unalterable, or at least incapable of so entire a change. Empires have flourished and decayed; another Alexander has in that little time almost conquered the European world; and now a few feet in an obscure and isolated spot of that earth which he would greedily have made all his own are "ample room and verge enough" to satisfy him.Children, who could then only touch the tassel of your boot, now "push us from our stools." But you are not old-that light step of yours, and that erect head, and that gravely cheerful aspect shew you are not;-I, too, have some youth at my heart, if my foot falters, and my eye is not so " redolent of spring:" there are, perhaps, years many and calmer in store for both of us. Go on, then, your way! We have

seen much in our time, and are we not wiser for what we have seen? We may see more, and, if it is not lost upon us, shall be wiser still.

It is impossible not to feel an interest in the revival of these "old pieces" which pleased or interested us in happier days it is impossible not to feel that these eye-acquaintances only have at last become friends with whom we keep up a safe sight-intimacy-one that is never likely to lead to a breach of friendship on either side, and to end in estrangement. I do not envy the man his feelings who can see even a fellowcreature, whom he knows only by sight, grow old and decrepit, who was, when he first met him, in the prime of manhood and youth of vigour, and feel no touch of pity, and take no interest in the change he witnesses, or but a selfish one-that he has weathered