the bar I began to study. My old companions,
finding that I was becoming, what
they were pleased to designate, " slow,"
dropped off. I entered into the solitude of
lodgings, near Brunswick Square, and read
eagerly. Still I found it necessary to relieve
my legal studies with copious draughts from
all the great fountains of inspiration, and I
fear, that even when I was endeavouring to
crack the hardest passages of " Blackstone,"
my ideas continually reverted either to the
grace of Montaigne, the wit of Congreve and
Pope, the sparkle and depth of Shakspeare,
or the massive grandeur of Milton. By
degrees my books became my dearest, my
only associates. Though as a companion and
friend I had decidedly fallen off, I improved
as a lodger: I kept regular hours, and paid
all my bills punctually.

My landlady grew confidential, in proportion
as I grew domestic. She favoured
me with her history from the time of her
birth. I knew how she took the measles;
the precise effect of her visit to a vaccine
establishment; the origin of a scar over
her left eye-brow; the income of her brother
in Somersetshire; the number of kittens
which her cat annually produced; the character
she gave her last servant; and the
fond affection she had lavished upon a brute
of a husband. These matters, however, were
intrusted to me in confidence; and, to use an
original phrase, they shall be buried with me
in my grave! I had no occasion to repay my
landlady's confidence with my own, because
she paid herself. I could keep no secrets
from her. She knew the contents of my
trunks, desks, and drawers, as well as I did—
better, for, if I lost any little article, I never,
perhaps, missed it. I was seldom allowed to
wear a pair of dress gloves more than once:
when a collar was not to be had, " them
washerwomen was," I was told, " always a
losing of something or other." I am sure the
flavour of my tea, the quality of my mutton,
and the excellence of my coals, were no
secrets to my landlady: but she had many
good qualities, so I ate what she left me in
silence and in peace.

Despite my but too prying landlady, however,
I got on very well by myself; and,
like men who live alone, I became egotistic
and lazy. I thought of the weaver at his
loom; the lawyer burning the midnight
composition over his brief; the author, with
his throbbing temples, hard at work; and I
rejoiced quietly by my fire and in my books.
There was a selfish pleasure in the conviction
that my case was so much better than that of
thousands of the toilers and strugglers of the
earth. This I found a capital philosophy for
every day in the year—except one. On that
day my landlady entered my room, and, with
a few words, blighted my happiness, and
made me miserable as the veriest outcast.

'' Beg pardon for interrupting you," the
worthy soul said, ' but I wish to know whether
you dine at home on Christmas Day.
Though, of course, you will be with your
friends—but I thought I might as well make
sure."

The good woman must have noticed my
confusion. I stammered out something in the
most awkward manner; but contrived to
make her understand, in the end, that I
should dine at home.

"On Christmas Day, Sir? " the woman
repeated, with particular emphasis. '' I 'm
talking about Christmas Day, when every
gentleman dines with his friends and relations;
leastways, all the gentlemen I ever
had, have done so."

"My friends live in Scotland, where Christmas
is no festival," I replied, rather relieved
at the opportunity of explaining my solitary
condition.

"Well, dear a-me! " my landlady went on
to say, " that's very awkard, very awkard, Sir,
indeed. Dear, dear a-me, what shall I do?
My table, down stairs, won't hold any thing
like fifteen!"

Fifteen persons to greet my landlady on
Christmas Day, and not a soul to break bread
with me! I saw, at once, the tendency of
her observation as to the size of her table;
and willingly offered to vacate my room
for her great annual festivity. This offer
was eagerly accepted, and once more I was
left to my solitude. From that moment
my fortitude deserted me. I knew that
the weaver would enjoy his Christmas feast;
that the lawyer would throw aside his
brief, and abating his professional solemnity,
would, on Christmas Day, make merry; and
that the author would leave the pen in the
inkstand to be jolly during a great portion of
those twenty-four happy hours. Let me confess
that I felt sick at heart—stupidly and
profoundly dejected.

On Christmas Eve the maid came into
my room, and, with a beaming face, begged
that I would allow her to decorate it with
holly:—she said nothing about the misletoe
which she carried under her apron, but I saw
her dexterously fasten it above the door-way.
I was very lonely that evening. The six square
yards of space which I occupied were the
only six square yards in the neighbourhood
not occupied by laughing human creatures.
The noise of my landlady and her relatives
below made me savage; and when she sent
up the servant to ask whether I would like to
step below, and take a stir at the pudding,
my " no! " was given in such a decided tone
that the poor girl vanished with miraculous
celerity.

The knocks at the street-door were incessant.
First it was the turkey, then the
apples, oranges, and chesnuts, for dessert, then
the new dinner-set, then the sirloin. Each
separate item of the approaching feast was
hailed with smothered welcomes by the
women, who rushed into the passage to examine
and greet it. Presently a knock resounded