_Bart_. at
the tail of their sponsorial and patronymic appellations? Do you think
the landed Bart. knows any more of the medical Bart. than that, when he
sends for the other to attend his wife, he calls him generally "doctor,"
and seldom Sir James: or that the military Bart. does not much like the
naval Bart.? and do not all these incongruous Barts. shudder at the bare
idea of been seen on the same side of the street with a gin-spinning,
Patent-British-Genuine-Foreign-Cognac Brandy-making Bart.? and do not
each and every one of these Barts. from head to tail, even including the
last-mentioned, look down with immeasurable disdain upon the poor Nova
Scotia baronets, who move heaven and earth to get permission to wear a
string round their necks, and a badge like the learned fraternity of
cabmen?

Then as to the magic capitals M.P., which provincial people look upon as
embodying in the wearer the concentrated essence of wisdom, eloquence,
personal distinction, and social eminence. Who, in a country town, on a
market day, has not seen tradesmen cocking their eye, apprentices
glowering through the shop front, and ladies subdolously peeping behind
the window-shutter to catch a glimpse of the "member for our town," and,
having seen him, think they are rather happier then they were before?
The greatest fun in the world is to go to a _cul-de-sac_ off a dirty
lane near Palace Yard, called Manchester Buildings, a sort of senatorial
pigeon-house, where the meaner fry of houseless M.P.'s live, each in his
one pair, two pair, three pair, as the case may be, and give a postman's
knock at every door in rapid succession. In a twinkling, the "collective
wisdom" of Manchester Buildings and the Midland Counties poke out their
heads. Cobden appears on the balcony; Muntz glares out of a second
floor, like a live bear in a barber's window; Wallace of Greenock comes
to the door in a red nightcap; and a long "tail" of the other immortals
of a session. You may enjoy the scene as much as you please; but when
you hear one or two of the young Irish patriotic "mimbers" floundering
from the attics, the wisest course you can take will be incontinently to
"mizzle." These men, however, have one redeeming quality--that they
live in Manchester Buildings, and don't care who knows it; they are out
of fashion, and don't care who are in; they are minding their business,
and not hanging at the skirts of people ever ready and willing to kick
them off.

Then t