hich still roll through the streets, and you will perceive
that if not with a coronet or supporters, nine out of ten have the
widow's _lozenge_. And why so? because they belong to the widows of
those who died in the times of plenty, and who left them large jointures
upon their estates. They, of course, can still support and even better
support, the expense; but the estates now yield but sufficient to pay
the jointure, and the incumbent swallows up the whole. And where are
the real owners of the properties? At Paris, at Naples, at Brussels, if
they can afford to be in a Capital--if not, dispersed over Belgium,
Switzerland, and Italy--retrenching in other countries, or living more
comfortably upon their incomes. How many millions, for it does amount
to millions, are now spent on the continent, enriching the people of
other countries, and in all probability laying up for those countries
the sinews for another war to be directed against England! How much of
wretchedness and starvation has been suffered in our own country within
these few years, which, if our people had not been living abroad, might
never have been felt! Where are the elite of our aristocracy? Where
are our country gentlemen who used to keep open house at their estates,
disseminating their wealth and producing happiness? All driven abroad--
society disjointed--no leader of fashion to set the example, by
luxurious entertainments, of disseminating that wealth which ultimately
finds its way into the greasy pocket of the labourer or mechanic. Shops
opened late and closed early. Gin palaces, like hell, ever open to a
customer. The pulse of London hardly beats--it is perceptible, but no
more. Nothing is active but the press, and the pressure from without.
But who would remain ten days in London in the month of November, when
he can go away, without he had serious thoughts of suicide? Candles at
high noon, yellow fogs, and torches in mid-day, do not suit me, so I'm
off again to a purer atmosphere.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

Spa, June 30.
Yesterday I fell in with two old friends, who, from a mere "truant
disposition," joined perhaps with a little good will towards me, came
over to Spa. As soon as their arrival had been announced, I went to
them, and at their request joined their dinner. After our first
greetings, B--, who not only appears, but really is, a man of fashion,
in the best sense of