above her head like a beauteous scarf, wafted up by the wind, and forming a graceful arch over her lovely brow!"

"Well," said Glumpy, putting his word in, "you say that Nature loves variety and gaiety of colours: so do our modern painters !"

"Yes," retorted Hippy, "but she colours as she should colour: she does not paint as modern artists paint: her nose yellow, her lips black, her forehead purple, her hair blue, her eyes green, her cheeks grey, her chin brown, her teeth black. But enough-enough!-Spiffle, ring the bell for fresh glasses and a fresh subject—a glorious bowl of punch!"

expense of irriSpiffle! Both

I could have

Alas, poor Hippy !-whimsical, croaking, kind, gentle, happy, unhappy Hippy! It was his last bowl, and his last rubber at the table, nagging, niggling, little are gone-Spiffle and Hippy! 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 he 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 loving sorrow]

Wherefore lie lightly on his temples grey,

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

LEIGH HUNT.

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 speaking, London, with all its vastness, which is perpetually 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," ever-varying 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 satisfied 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 daysthe Temple Gardens-a pleasant place I had not visited for many years, till I again straggled into