hundred and eighty treatises of Theophrastus; of the eighth book of the conic sections of Apollonius; of Pindar's hymns and dithyrambics; and of the five and forty tragedies of Homer Junior. There was Ferdinand Fitz-Fossillus Feltspar. He informed us all about internal fires and tertiary formations; about äeriforms, fluidiforms, and solidiforms; about quartz and marl; about schist and schorl; about gypsum and trap; about tale and calc; about blende and horn-blende; about mica-slate and pudding-stone; about cyanite and lepidolite; about hæmatite and tremolite; about antimony and calcedony; about manganese and whatever you please. There was myself. I spoke of myself;-of myself, of myself, of myself;-of Nosology, of my pamphlet, and of myself. I turned up my nose, and I spoke of myself. "Marvellous clever man!" said the Prince. Superb!" said his guests; and next morning her Grace of Bless-my-Soul paid me a visit. "Will you go to Almack's, pretty creature?" she said, tapping me under the chin. "Upon honour," said I. "Nose and all?" she asked. "As I live," I replied. "Here then is a card, my life. Shall I say you will be there?" 66 66 'Dear Duchess, with all my heart." 'Pshaw, no!-but with all your nose?" Every bit of it, my love," said I; so I gave it a twist or two, and found myself at Almack's. The rooms were crowded to suffocation. "He is coming!" said somebody on the staircase. He is come!" exclaimed the Duchess. "He is come, the little love!' and, seizing me firmly by both hands, she kissed me thrice upon the nose. A marked sensation in mediately ensued. "Diavolo!" cried Count Capricornutti. Dios guarda!" muttered Don Stiletto. "Mille tonnerres! ejaculated the Prince de Grenouille. "Tousand teufel!" growled the Elector of Bluddennuff. It was not to be borne. I grew angry. I turned short upon Bluddennuff. "Sir," said I to him, "you are a baboon." "Sir," he replied, after a pause, "Donner und Blitzen!" This was all that could be desired. We exchanged cards. At Chalk-Farm, the next morning, I shot off his nose and then called upon my friends. "Bete!" said the first. "Fool!" said the second. "Dolt!" said the third. "Ass!" said the fourth. At all this I felt mortified, and so called upon my father. "Father," I asked, "what is the chief end of my existence ?" "My son," he replied, "it is still the study of Nosology; but in hitting the Elector upon the nose you have overshot your mark. You have a fine nose, it is true; but then Bluddennuff has none. You are damned, and he has become the hero of the day. I grant you that in Fum-Fudge the greatness of a lion is in proportion to the size of his proboscis-but, good heavens! there is no competing with a lion who has no proboscis at all!" 159 THE MAN OF THE CROWD. Ce grand malheur, de ne pouvoir être seul. Ir was well said of a certain German book that " er lasst sich nicht lesen "—it does not permit itself to be read. There are some secrets which do not permit themselves to be told. Men die nightly in their beds, wringing the hands of ghostly confessors, and looking them piteously in the eyes-die with despair of heart and convulsion of throat, on account of the hideousness of mysteries which will not suffer themselves to be revealed. Now and then, alas, the conscience of man takes up a burthen so heavy in horror that it can be thrown down only into the grave. And thus the essence of all crime is undivulged. Not long ago, about the closing in of an evening in autumn, I sat at the large bow window of the D Coffee-house in London. For some months I had been ill in health, but was now convalescent, and, with returning strength, found myself in one of those happy moods which are so precisely the converse of ennui-moods of the keenest appetency, when the film from the mental vision departs, and the intellect, electrified, surpasses as greatly its every-day condition, as does the vivid yet candid reason of Leibnitz the mad and flimsy rhetoric of Gorgias. Merely to breathe was enjoyment; and I derived positive pleasure even from many of the legiti mate sources of pain. I felt a calm but inquisitive interest in everything. With a cigar in my mouth and a newspaper in my lap, I had been amusing myself for the greater part of the afternoon, now in poring over advertisements, now in observing the promiscuous company in the room, and now in peering through the smoky panes into the street. This latter is one of the principal thoroughfares of the city, and had been very much crowded during the whole day. But, as the darkness came on, the throng momently increased; and, by the time the lamps were well lighted, two dense and continuous tides of population were rushing past the door. At this particular period of the evening I had never before been in a similar situation, and the tumultuous sea of human heads filled me, therefore, with a delicious novelty of emotion. I gave up, at length, all care of things within the hotel, and became absorbed in contemplation of the scene without. At first my observations took an abstract and generalizing turn. I looked at the passengers in masses, and thought of them in their aggregate relations. Soon, however, I descended to details, and regarded with minute interest the innumerable varieties of figure, dress, air, gait, visage, and expression of countenance. By far the greater number of those who went by had a satisfied business-like demeanour, and seemed to be thinking only of making their way through the press. Their brows were knit, and their eyes rolled quickly; when pushed against by fellow-wayfarers they evinced no symptom of impatience, but adjusted their clothes and hurried on. Others, still a numerous class, were restless in their movements, had flushed faces, and talked and gesticulated to themselves, as if feeling in solitude on account of the very denseness of the company around. When impeded in their progress, these people suddenly ceased muttering, but redoubled their gesticulations, and awaited, with an absent and overdone smile upon the lips, the course of the persous impeding them. If jostled, they bowed profusely to the jostlers, and appeared overwhelmed with confusion. There was nothing very distinctive about these two large classes beyond what I have noted. Their habiliments belonged to that order which is pointedly termed the decent. They were undoubtedly noblemen, merchants, attorneys, tradesmen, stock-jobbers-the Eupatrids and the common-places of society-men of leisure and men actively engaged in affairs of their own-conducting business upon their own responsibility. They did not greatly excite my attention. The tribe of clerks was an obvious one; and here I discerned two remarkable divisions. There were the junior clerks of flash houses-young gentlemen with tight coats, bright boots, well-oiled hair, and supercilious lips. Setting aside a certain dapperness of carriage, which may be termed deskism for want of a better word, the manner of these persons seemed to me an exact facsimile of what had been the perfection of bon ton about twelve or eighteen months before. They wore the cast-off graces of the gentry; and this, I believe, involves the best definition of the class. The division of the upper clerks of staunch firms, or of the "steady old fellows," it was not possible to mistake. These were known by their coats and pantaloons of black or brown, made to sit comfortably, with white cravats and waistcoats, broad solid-looking shoes, and thick hose or gaiters. They had all slightly bald heads, from which the right ears, long used to penholding, had an odd habit of standing off on end. I observed that they always removed or settled their hats with both hands, and wore watches with short gold chains of a substantial and ancient pattern. Theirs was the affectation of respectability,—if indeed there be an affectation so honourable. There were many individuals of dashing appearance, whom I easily understood as belonging to the race of swell pick-pockets, with which all great cities are infested. I watched these gentry with much inquisitiveness, and found it difficult to imagine how they should ever be mistaken for gentlemen by gentlemen themselves. Their voluminousness of wristband, with an air of excessive frankness, should betray them at once. The gamblers, of whom I descried not a few, were still more easily recognisable. They wore every variety of dress, from that of the desperate thimble-rig bully, with velvet waistcoat, fancy neckerchief, gilt chains, and M |