bour", not abuse my neighbour. We will go to the Zoological
Gardens and talk freely about the gorilla and his kindred, but not talk
about people who can talk in their turn. Suppose we praise the High
Church? we offend the Low Church. The Broad Church? High and Low are
both offended. What do you think of Lord Derby as a politician? And
what is your opinion of Lord Palmerston? If you please, will you play
me those lovely variations of "In a cottage near a wood"? It is a
charming air (you know it in French, I suppose? _Ah! te dirai-je,
maman?_) and was a favourite with poor Marie Antoinette. I say "poor",
because I have a right to speak with pity of a sovereign who was
renowned for so much beauty and so much misfortune. But as for giving
any opinion on her conduct, saying that she was good or bad, or
indifferent, goodness forbid! We have agreed we will not be censorious.
Let us have a game at cards--at _ecarte_, if you please. You deal. I
ask for cards. I lead the deuce of clubs....

What? there is no deuce! Deuce take it! What? People _will_ go on
talking about their neighbours, and won't have their mouths stopped by
cards, or ever so much microscopes and aquariums? Ah, my poor dear Mrs.
Candour, I agree with you. By the way, did you ever see anything like
Lady Godiva Trotter's dress last night? People _will_ go on chattering,
although we hold our tongues; and, after all, my good soul, what will
their scandal matter a hundred years hence?

ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH.

(1819-1861.)

LXX. SPECTATOR AB EXTRA.

As I sat at the Cafe I said to myself,
They may talk as they please about what they call pelf,
They may sneer as they like about eating and drinking,
But help it I cannot, I cannot help thinking
How pleasant it is to have money, heigh-ho!
How pleasant it is to have money.

I sit at my table _en grand seigneur_,
And when I have done, throw a crust to the poor,
Not only the pleasure itself of good living,
But also the pleasure of now and then giving:
So pleasant it is to have money, heigh-ho!
So pleasant it is to have money.

They may talk as they please about what they call pelf,
And how one ought never to think of one's self,
How pleasures of thought surpass eating and drinking,
My pleasure of thought is the pleasure of thinking
How pleasant it is to have money, heigh-ho!
How pleasant it is to have money.

LE DINER.

Come along, 'tis the