All mankind are my brothers, and I don't
think it Christian—if you come to that—to
tell my brother that he is ignorant, or
degraded, or dirty, or anything of the kind.  I
think it's  abusive, and low: You meet me
with the observation that I am required to
love my brother. I reply, " I do." I am
sure I am always willing to say to my brother,
"My good fellow, I love you very much; go
along with you; keep to your own road;
leave me to mine; whatever is, is right;
whatever isn't, is wrong; don't make a
disturbance!" It seems to me, that this is at once
the whole duty of man, and the only temper
to go to dinner in.

Going to dinner in this temper in the City
of London, one day not long ago, after a bed at
Mrs. Skim's, with meat-breakfast and servants
included, I was reminded of the observation
which, if my memory does not deceive me, was
formerly made by somebody on some occasion,
that man may learn wisdom from the lower
animals. It is a beautiful fact, in my opinion,
that great wisdom is to be learnt from that
noble animal the Turtle,

I had made up my mind, in the course of
the day I speak of, to have a Turtle dinner.
I mean a dinner mainly composed of Turtle.
Just a comfortable tureen of soup, with a pint
of punch; and nothing solid to follow, but a
tender juicy steak. I like a tender juicy
steak. I generally say to myself when I
order one, "Snoady, you have done right."

"When I make up my mind to have a
delicacy, expense is no consideration. The
question resolves itself, then, into a question
of the very best. I went to a friend of mine
who is a Member of the Common Council,
and with that friend I held the following
conversation.

Said I to him, "Mr. Groggles, the best
Turtle is where?"

Says he, "If you want a basin for lunch,
my opinion is, you can't do better than drop
into Birch's."

Said I, "Mr. Groggles, I thought you had
known me better, than to suppose me capable
of a basin. My intention is to dine. A
tureen."

Says Mr. Groggles, without a moment's
consideration, and in a determined voice.
"Right opposite the India House, Leadenhall
Street."

We parted. My mind was not inactive
during the day, and at six in the afternoon I
repaired to the house of Mr. Groggles's
recommendation. At the end of the passage,
leading from the street into the coffee room, I
observed a vast and solid chest, in which I
then supposed that a Turtle of unusual size
might be deposited. But, the correspondence
between its bulk and that of the charge made
for my dinner, afterwards satisfied me that
it must be the till of the establishment.

I stated to the waiter what had brought me
there, and I mentioned Mr. Groggles's name.
He feelingly repeated after me, "A tureen of
Turtle, and a tender juicy steak." His
manner, added to the manner of Mr. Groggles
in the morning, satisfied me that all was well.
The atmosphere of the coffee room was
odoriferous with Turtle, and the steams of
thousands of gallons, consumed within its walls,
hung, in savoury grease, upon their surface.
I could have inscribed my name with a
pen-knife, if I had been so  disposed, in the essence
of innumerable Turtles. I preferred to fall
into a hungry reverie, brought on by the warm
breath of the place, and to think of the West
Indies and the Island of Ascension.

My dinner came—and went. I will draw
a veil over the meal, I will put the cover on
the empty tureen, and merely say that it was
wonderful—and that I paid for it.

I sat meditating, when all was over, on the
imperfect nature of our present existence, in
which we can eat only for a limited time,
when the waiter roused me with these words.

Said he to me, as he brushed the crumbs off
the table, "Would you like to see the Turtle,
Sir ?"

"To see what Turtle, waiter ?" said I
(calmly) to him.

"The tanks of Turtle below, Sir," said he
to me.

Tanks of Turtle! Good Gracious! "Yes!"

The waiter lighted a candle, and conducted
me down stairs to a range of vaulted apartments,
cleanly whitewashed and illuminated
with gas, where I saw a sight of the most
astonishing and gratifying description,
illustrative of the greatness of my native country.
"Snoady," was my first observation to
myself, "Rule Britannia, Britannia rules the
waves!"

There were two or three hundred Turtle in
the vaulted apartments—all alive. Some in
tanks, and some taking the air in long dry
walks; littered down with straw. They were
of all sizes; many of them enormous. Some
of the enormous ones had entangled
themselves with the smaller ones, and pushed and
squeezed themselves into corners, with their
fins over water-pipes, and their heads
downwards, where they were apoplectically
struggling and splashing, apparently in the
last extremity. Others were calm at the
bottom of the tanks; others languidly rising
to the surface. The Turtle in the walks
littered down with straw, were calm and
motionless. It was a thrilling sight. I admire
such a sight. It rouses my imagination. If
you wish to try its effect on yours, make a
call right opposite the India House any day
you please—dine—pay—and ask to be taken
below.

Two athletic young men, without coats, and
with the sleeves of their shirts tucked up to the
shoulders, were in attendance on these
noble animals. One of them, wrestling with
the most enormous Turtle in company, and
dragging him up to the edge of the tank, for
me to look at, presented an idea to me which
I never had before. I ought to observe that